In Wayunaik, Yoluja means the reflection of a spirit's presence.

This collection is about my childhood. When I used to play among those gigantic chestnut trees of 150 years.
Today as I see them falling down it is to me imposible to let them disappear. 

I like to think of them as beings, dormant entities from my childhood imagination, where those being used to surround me by their presence in the woods.
I always have in mind Myazaki movies, where wild animals or magic beings let humans ride them. Or let them use some of their abilities, so they can together achieve amazing things, like fly on a top of a gigantic creature or ride a creature with Totoro. That's how I would like you to experience my work, just as a wild ride.

After a long walk into the forest it is sometimes hard to find a rock that accepts the shapes of our body. And when it happens a small satisfaction come out of it. Suddenly a rock, without the purpose of being a chair become partly a chair. And as we sit on it we start to accept small constraints. The rock is not 100 percent flat-levelled, and the texture is not easy to sit on. And yet you are happy there, in the middle of the forest, because you found one of the few rock or trunk that accept you. This is what I want you to feel when you interact with my pieces. I want you to feel like a visitor, a curious adventurer of the forest that suddenly found a peculiar item in the wood with whom he can interact with.

I want my furniture to NOT be fully usable, square or perfectly flat. I want us to understand that we have to adapt to nature and take what we can or need from her, but with the understanding that we cannot have it all. You can only use the space the rock gives you and will have to adapt. It is a mutual agreement and an encounter with one of my tree-entity, with whom you will share use, and mostly time and sensorial experience. Utility is not the center of my creations, interaction between mankind and nature is.
In that sense, i could say my work is non anthropocentric.