Like a being from another sphere, the sculpture floats in space—a creature made of wood and memory, born of the earth and yet already in the process of detaching itself from it. The branches, once firmly rooted in the ground, now stretch out tentatively, as if seeking support in the invisible. The head, rough and expressive, seems to be listening, sensing that a new existence awaits beyond gravity.
The thin wire that supports it is little more than a breath – a final connection to the world below. It makes the fragility of this moment visible: floating is not flying, but a state of suspension between being and becoming.
In this form, nature and humanity merge into a poetic figure that tells of transformation. It stands for letting go of the familiar, for the longing for the unknown, and for the moment when something that was deeply rooted in the earth begins to rise.