Series "Gammes d’Automne 23 »
Ink, gesso on canvas or art paper
Mounted on invisible oak rails

A random entry in the diary,
The thought of winter approaching blurs my vision.
The big raindrop on my windshield,
I turn it into a flake lost by the wind.
And this moment, suspended for the duration of a journey,
reminds me of my stubbornness as an artist.
Time passes, cycles follow one another, but never the Same will happen again.
I write signs to tell this story, glyphs on the blank page, but it's more than just writing, because each one is as unique as the snowflakes themselves.
The painting becomes a narrative, a timelessness that exceeds the margin.
Yet each time I dip the brush into the inkwell, tap it on the edge before depositing a drop around which my gesture takes shape.
It's the same process every time, but the note the pianist plays over and over again never sounds the same.
Here of the perfection of life, given by the hand.