Welcome to my Inner World. I am a French self-taught artist, and these past twenty years I have made Norway my home. Moving to the Lofoten islands was the greatest present I ever made to myself and the Arctic landscapes are indeed a true treat for any artist’s eyes. I live with my British soulmate,… Continue Reading
I dreamed money… was falling from the sky, ha!ha!ha! It was night and I was standing on a balcony looking at a sort of wheel made of chiming bells which was revolving in the sky. From it came thousands of brown envelopes (with a transparent window) and one of them landed on my balcony. I just couldn’t believe it, there was money in it, perhaps 50 euros. Money doesn’t usually fall from the sky but if you bother going to the right place, at the right moment, the wheel of fortune will provide a little help. The card I was going to work on today is the Bell, by the way.
J’ai rêvé que l’argent… tombait du ciel, ha!ha!ha! Il faisait nuit et je me tenais sur un balcon, observant une sorte de grande roue formée de cloches retentissantes dans le ciel, tournant sur elle-même. De la roue, volèrent des milliers d’enveloppes brunes (avec une fenêtre transparente) et l’une d’entre elles atterrit sur mon balcon. J’arrivais à peine à y croire, elle contenait de l’argent, peut-être 50 euros. L’argent habituellement ne tombe pas du ciel mais si l’on daigne aller au bon endroit, au bon moment (si l’on se bouge le cul en sorte), la roue de la fortune procure un peu d’aide. La carte sur laquelle je comptais travailler aujourd’hui est la cloche, par ailleurs.
It’s been around -12 degrees Celsius for many days now. Cold means clear sky and it’s been so magical to see a glowing red sun peeping over the horizon these last days. We’re slowly evolving out of the Polar Night. I had to shorten the walks a bit because the temperature is probably too low for my little Pap. She doesn’t show any sign of freezing because we’re always on the move but we’d best be cautious. I’ve been working on my Oracle, already 9 cards finished! As much as I would like showing them, I have to refrain from doing so because this is confidential work. It might be published, you see. I’m having a cosy time. I like the round format of the cards, it’s interesting, composition wise. Also, the small format obliges me to strip the composition to the essentials. I have to keep the cards simple, too many details wouldn’t show on the printed version. It was a bit frustrating at first, but then I got the joy of finishing one painting in more or less 24 hours, which is absolutely new to me, since every painting takes a minimum of 3-4 weeks. That’s if I don’t do ceramics or felting in between. Sometimes, I feel it’s too long… But on the other hand, some things take time to be told. My paintings would be really, really different if I had spent only three days on them. Being patient is always rewarding. You can’t go very far in life without patience.That’s something many people don’t realise when they tell me I have talent. My talent is made exclusively of passion, nothing else. With practice come skills (and NOT the other way around!). But all this passion would lead to nothing if I didn’t have patience. And the only way of remaining patient is through pleasure. Because patience without fun is just… duty. You don’t want to paint dutifully. Although you could if you were masochistic enough, that would lead to a sort of frozen, lifeless perfection. People around you would admire your technique and wished they could paint like this – not for the fun (because there isn’t any), but to be admired. This emphasis on perfection saddens me. I believe many people renounce their right to express their creativity because they want to do it for the wrong reason in the first place: to impress others. Remember when you were a child and you drew and thought every drawing was good enough to be given as a present to the person of your choice? Unfortunately, not everyone can appreciate what goes into a creation, it’s not a crime, it just is. But this is not a good reason to ditch and feel contempt for something that didn’t seem to be good enough for others. It’s not that it was not good enough. It’s just that people aren’t receptive. You are receptive to what comes out of you, or if you’re not, then you should be. Be your best friend. Make yourself dream. Buy coloured papers, scissors and glue, doodle madly with colored pencils and JUST HAVE FUN!
What can be done with colored paper sheets and a pair of scissors:
I dreamed a girl came for dinner and during the meal, I found out she knew an old friend of mine who acted weird (from nice and very close she suddenly rejected me in a very crass way). I said to her “Ah! At last perhaps you could tell me what went wrong? I know she was not psychotic, but I would so very much like to understand”. She looked at me a while and then started to talk in long riddles, with sentences and images that didn’t make any sense. I actually had the feeling that only this fake friend could understand what it was about. So it seemed that the only option was to give up understanding. Then the girl took me out and we walked here and there. She showed me all sort of soils. There was an area where the soil was shaped in a multitude of ponds surrounded by long grass. A father was bathing there with his son and I really felt like entering the water. In another place, the soil had been dug around a huge tree in the shape of a circle along with a circular bench so people could sit around the tree. The girl said “let me show you something very special and rare”. She pointed at a vein of soil, it was darker than the other soils. She said “this one is very rich. It is compact, full of possibilities, highly concentrated in nutrients, all kind of things grow in it, but also very unusual things. But you can’t tame it into a garden, it’s totally wild, it goes where it pleases. Running across the world. Free”. I looked at the vein which was as dark as a chocolate truffle and the beautiful wild flowers growing on it, and said “oh… that’s my kind of soil!”. She looked at me with a little smile and said “yes”.
Traduction Française ici
These days, I’ve been insidiously bothered by my total lack of sales. This is nothing new, except usually I’m not bothered so much. Also, I’m in a transition period and money is very scarce. I’ve been wondering about the meaning of my art in this world, especially when it speaks only to very few. Very, very few. I think I know why: too many details, not enough people, or if there are any, the picture doesn’t focus on them because, you see, I’m more interested in showing that everything is connected, the background is as important as the foreground. This is what matters to Soul, the plurality, the plenty and the subtle mystery (hence my nocturnal atmospheres). I will never give up on this approach for the sake of mainstream art. Because I don’t paint to sell. I don’t even paint for people. Not even friends. I paint for the Otherworld. Its Queen and its people. The dragons, the goblins, the witches. I paint for those who are totally, madly in love with the beauty of Nature and these precious moments of peace and grace. They see beyond and are very wise in their own ways. They help me to capture these beautiful visions, these soulful moments. Every time I paint, they’re by my side, guiding my steps, teaching me. I feel blessed. And so grateful. This doesn’t bring me any kind of reward in this world, but it brings me joy!
So… to go back to this insidious feeling which has been nagging me lately, I’d like to write for once and for all: I’d rather be a (well-treated) slave to Soul than a (mistreated) slave to people’s expectations of what art should be.