“After a creative life spent in the
conviction of having to make up with the ingenuity to a little manual, I have
suddenly discovered that he had that intelligence in his hands
Doing so much helps to concentrate so as not to disperse, to realize for non
to impulse, to overcome the breakdowns of age, but also of vice and paranoia
existential.
So it was on a nice day in September 2007 the counter
more transgressive of my mind he found himself “wrapped” without having
consciousness. Water dripped, glue, colors, rips and shades.
Since then a joyous exaltation leads me to work feverishly around old furniture
obsolete that offer docile to the fury of my hands, or on new woods
that yield their colorless banality to wealth
of unexpected color agreements.
I use the most beautiful cards in the world, which are desecrated by me,
wet, worn out. stratified with arduous emotional charge.
It happens then, as if by magic, that armies of colors challenge each other,
they fight and interpenetrate themselves despite themselves,
appropriating the underlying surface and also
of any rational will of mine.
With a complete invisible fixing the work,
which becomes indestructible.
The color scares. It is necessary to be daring to use it in freedom.
When it is sunny and bright it reflects the desire for lightness and optimism
that swim against the current in each of us, where life flows “.