only hot air
"Art is a game between all men of all times"
I've put in : old and new, from different places, using different techniques,
means of expression or introspection, always searching for new ways of
exploration or sometimes compelled by urgencies.
I didn't start to draw, but I never stopped…why? I'm still wondering.
Maybe it's a kind of childish or archaic habit. Nevertheless, if according
to Bazaine: "A painter's life goes backwards in its course: a painter
is born old."… I'm looking forward to my future childhood… or is
it so that childhood like old age finds itself nearer to dreams? And if
what's essential finds itself in this phrase of Huisman: "Art is
sexual or is not…art is consoling or is not" does that mean that
we need to console ourselves from life? Art requires so much that it needs
sacrifice, as love does, in which it is necessary to give in to…
But it is not a seeking, it's a discovery…
Beyond words are images, always in the desire to trespass the framework,
even if the framework has to be rebuilt by oneself, but only as it leads
us in its own choice. Image is also a language, a language talking to
other areas in us, to deeper more buried places … where speech is not
enough, whether it's for oneself or others. A language without premeditation,
where the act of construction reveals each time an unknown. All is not
for sale, some is already gone, some is real and some is not, and rather
than offering a conventional CV, I prefer to let you watch rather than
read…though there is also poetry… and for the rest you can always ask…