An iron plate, flat as a coin in front of a large hydraulic press and my blowpipe. Just blank, white canvas of a painter or the blank sheet of paper from a writer. I put the blowtorch and my fantasy fades into reality. I patiently work towards the end result. I sculpt with the forging hammer and painter with my blowpipe. It is pure love for the material.
Nice to see how iron can take organic forms. The softness of a horse nose may have. If you are going to feel the curves of a firm butt with your hand on the buttocks of my zebra.
At the end of the day has won the shape of the iron. My energy, my blood, sweat and tears have become the image.