When we think of childhood we think of innocence and simplicity, something as wholesome as flying a kite. This sculpture depicts the lightness of being a child, when running feels like flying and time doesn’t quite exist yet. That’s where this piece began. Cast aluminium felt right from the start. It’s light enough to carry a sense of motion, yet strong enough to stand through years of wind, rain, and shifting seasons. The surface retains the marks of making. We didn’t over-polish because we wanted the light to catch unevenly, to animate the figure as the sun moves across it. The boy emerged from the initial clay slowly, always in motion. His position is mid-stride, one foot barely grounded, the other reaching forward, arms open in that instinctive balance children have when they run without thinking. He isn’t simply holding a kite; he’s following it, led by curiosity and imagination. We elongated the kite slightly, giving it a subtle lift, so the eye travels upward and outward, as if the wind itself is part of the sculpture. And then there’s where he lives. In a garden, among hedges, stone paths, and the open sky, he feels at home. Not placed there as decoration, but as a reminder of that effortless sense of freedom we rarely notice until it’s gone. We hoped that each viewer might recognise their own memory in him. Because in the end, it was never really about a boy or a kite. It was about the moment where everything feels possible, and nothing is quite certain yet. That’s where the joy is if only we let it linger a little longer.
