At this stage, silence begins.

The most difficult part is over, and now all that remains is to listen to what the form itself wants.

I'm not creating anymore — I'm clarifying.

The sculpture is already alive, breathing, reaching for the light, and my task is not to prevent it from becoming itself.

Every surface requires attention.

I change the angle, the lighting, I see how the mass works, where the extra weight hides.

Sometimes the corrections are microscopic — a shift of a millimeter, a smoothed edge, an added bend.

But they are the ones who create the feeling of life.

This process is similar to tuning a musical instrument.

You don't create a melody, you bring the sound to purity.

It is important to catch the moment when the mold ceases to be a blank and becomes independent.

When there's nothing more to add, it's already scary to touch.

I try not to lose any traces of work.

The trace of a finger, the roughness, the line of a knife — all this is part of a living language.

Smoothness kills energy, and imperfection makes it real.

When a sculpture "speaks", it is felt instantly.

Then you can stop.

Now the mold is ready for the technical stage — molding, where its breath will be transferred to the material.

Perfection is not in perfection,

but in the ability to stop in time.