Buck is the name of the quarter of the village in the southern black forest I grew up in. Actually it's not a real quarter, because it's only an accumulation of five to six houses on a hill at the edge of the village surrounded by woods.

Buck, pronounced [buk] in german, is an old slangword, an idiom of the area for hill. But nowadays nobody uses it anymore nor even knows its meaning. I also didn't know its meaning for a long time. I always liked the sound of the word. It has this onomatopoetic quality to me, it could have a certain meaning by its sound, but it didn't have one or more precisely I didn't know.

I used to fill it with a specific content and imagined what content the word could carry.There is an analogy to my paintings. As the idiom Buck, the forms in my works are close to meaning, but do not have a certain substance.

While painting, I like to play the game I used to play with the term Buck. I imagine and fill the forms with a certain meaning. But like it was filling the word with content, its with the paintings, the imagination changes every time I look at them. I find different meanings to it while looking. I get thrown back to myself, mirroring my perception of myself, my surrounding, the world...

Also I can imagine that the forms had a certain meaning, but it got forgotten or it is real somewhere else (like it is in english for example).