When I make a work, I often take it to the very edge of its collapse, and that's a very beautiful balance.

It's just that when I work on someone else's land, it makes me aware of the social nature of that landscape.

I'm cautious about using fire. It can become theatrical. I am interested in the heat, not the flames.

We leave our presence in the pavement. We're walking over it, sitting on steps.

The hardened mass of liquid stones had much stronger qualities than those which had simply torn. The skin remained a recognisable part of the molten stone.

We often forget that we are nature.

Looking, touching, material, place and form are all inseparable from the resulting work. It is difficult to say where one stops and another begins. The energy and space around a material are as important as the energy and space within. The weather--rain, sun, snow, hail, mist, calm--is that external space made visible. When I touch a rock, I am touching and working the space around it. It is not independent of its surroundings, and the way it sits tells how it came to be there.