8 Rue Seveste, 75018 Paris
I will show you how I do this by giving you an excerpt of my notes: “I comment behind a piece of glass – the threshold that makes me feel like in a windowsill that is too high to be observable to passers-by in the street. And I melt for a profound comprehension of the state of mind of those walking, hurriedly or not, each of them with various scopes. I feel the peacefulness of their laughter and the heaviness of the steps left behind their over-coats. Their hats are a joy for me, all, ellipses bigger or smaller semi-diameters – simply accents in the entire landscape that I admire from here, from my place. So far I was green with cold! Please look carefully into my eyes. Do you have the courage to see what I see? Can you drop or throw or neglect whatever there is in your hands in this instant to rest for a single moment in a windowsill here next to me? Do you have the strength to go through this experience with yourselves and to allow the thoughts to flow, the dreams to learn to walk as they want to – to crawl? My retina is loaded with reds and warmth although my skin is still shaggy. If you wanted to feel, I would send you shudders that go through my body now and the tears that are searching my eyes, and not an the cheeks – tears like an undecided magnifier that makes blacks and reds and greens and coats and over-coats come closer or go further.”
For this reason, the only thing left for me to do after all this is to return to my own self, to my own condition. Loaded with what I absorb permanently from the background of the place I live in, I am looking for answers inside myself. Since I have no clear reference to reality (but only memories of feelings and signs) I generalize representations of the human body. I am therefore dealing with two existences: that of the visionary and that of the human (the character compliant to the becoming and the ephemeral). I live, like all other people, the time of globalization: in painting as well, I try to gather all the people in a single one. I put together body fragments – because only fragments may still be discovered in such a crammed world. But in essence, in each of these fragments of flesh and skin are hidden memories retained on the retina of my eyes as an observer. The result: bright frames that hide traces of bodies in a continuance of colored steam – the atmosphere that dominates my thoughts: a dance peeled from the walls – different every time. I found the bathtub as a pretext for searching for memories and a spring of my thoughts: that peace brought not by quietness, but through the fact that it is an intimate cadre that releases imagination and ties together much faster all the accumulated information. Sunk completely in the bathtub or, on the contrary, creating an opposition with it, I paint with the mind’s eyes what I lived recently. And this way, my canvases become a journal that is more honest that what I could write, since through me people and space may be glimpsed, the jostle of the world running towards quietness is seen. They are all in my eyes.
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