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Published on 03/14/2021
Every day I write in my little notebook.
DAY 4: cherry and plum trees in bloom.
DAY 24: heatwave in April, it is 26 °.
DAY 34: sun setting, I get on my bike and crisscross my city. Lawns and deserted roads.
At a street corner, along a fence, I stop, photographing wisteria and buttercups, spirea, orange trees from Mexico. Surrealist period, forever linked to my Quest for Print
It's the story of a skirt found in my grandmother's trunk.
Recolored, it has not aged a bit.
I saw boats there, which naturally took me to an atmosphere of a submerged continent.
Caravels caught in the spiral of blue waves, their primary-colored sails uniting in a sunny regatta.
BAYADERE had several lives.
In a way, he has become my signature:
a mixture of flowers and exoticism,
an artistic paw,
a sensual painting more than a polished drawing, a rhythm of lines conferring a modernity
An old friend, this drawing ...
It has always been with me, defies time, lends itself to new colorings, adapts to the times.
He knows how to be discreet, graphic, deep, warm.
He's the tomboy of the collection, he boosts flowers and taunts big patterns, he's rock and wildly sixties