When I look at an iron sculpture, amazed at the physical effort it requires, it takes me back to the blacksmiths in cowboy movies. I’m referring to those strong and noble broad-backed giants with a hammer of Thor in their hands, the sort of man no one would want problems with. And they didn’t usually have them, as they were rarely involved in the town’s brawls or drunkenness. They were sensible and peaceful, somewhat surly and short on words, but well able to give good advice and, although solitary, they usually had good friends. This same thoughtful attitude made them great keepers of secrets.