THE PROCESS IS MINE. THE OUTCOME IS YOURS.

When producing a work, the question of who the process belongs to is rarely asked. What is discussed instead is the outcome: the resulting form, meaning, aesthetic value, or modes of reading. For me, however, the primary field of production begins long before these outcomes come into view.

The process is the only space that belongs to me.The time spent with material, pauses, withdrawals, abandonments, and restarts all take place within this space. Decisions are made here before a work becomes visible — or sometimes, deliberately not made. The process is not a path toward a result; it is the work itself.

For this reason, I do not work according to predetermined rules. Rules only become visible as the work progresses. I often understand why a form continues or why it is abandoned only in retrospect. The process requires thinking alongside uncertainty.

The resulting work, however, does not belong to this space.Once a work is completed, it leaves my control. I do not claim authority over meaning, intention, or modes of interpretation. The outcome is left to the viewer’s experience, gaze, and time. This is not a retreat, but a deliberate transfer.

At this point, the relationship between artist and viewer shifts. The work does not close itself into a single meaning. It is reconfigured with each encounter. This reconfiguration does not take place within my process, but within the experiences of others.

This distinction is important to me.To take ownership of the process does not mean to claim ownership of the outcome. On the contrary, owning the process is the condition that allows the outcome to be released. Only in this way can a work acquire an existence independent of me.

This text is not written to explain a method or propose a model.It merely marks a boundary:

The process is mine.
The outcome is yours.