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, my sweet Papillon girls, Lucy and Pixie and the spirit of my border collie, Loki. My creativity is a tribute to the eyes that blink in the heart of every smallest thing, the flowing dreams whose pulse tries to reach to us in our most meditative state.

My Latest Posts :

The Wave

Your power is surging, and you have summoned the Wave.  You are now ready to experience everything the Wave brings in its wake.  Come and play with the Wave, which is just as exhilarated as you.  Make it happen. Save Save

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Water

The Water of Life says, “We”.  She lovingly shapes the most ancient life forms, and flows into even the tiniest of spaces.  Her embrace unifies all creatures, from far and near, in a single flow.  A low tide here becomes high there, but Water, always, creates pure and fluid harmony. Save Save

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The Rainbow

An elephant wearing pink, or a rose that favours grey will never bring a frown to the Rainbow.  In fact, it encourages the expression of one’s Truth, without regard for norms.  Rainbow says that there’s a colour for every moment and, if chosen judiciously, colours can heal even the most persistent affliction. Save Save

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The Sun

The Sun pours forth all Her bounties as She crosses the sky.  She does not tally the blessings She gives in her serene and nonchalant way.  She is strong, rich and delightful.  The resources She showers upon us will never be depleted. Save Save

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The little bits of my paintings I love the most:

A Totally Random Post Popping Out Of Nowhere:

  • Bran the Navigator
    bran1 The Voyage of Bran son of Febal ’TWAS fifty quatrains the woman from unknown lands sang on the floor of the house to Bran son of Febal, when the royal house was full of kings, who knew not whence the woman had come, since the ramparts were closed. This is the beginning of the story. One day, in the neighbourhood of his stronghold, Bran went about alone, when he heard music behind him. As often as he looked back, ’twas still behind him the music was. At last he fell asleep at the music, such was its sweetness. When he awoke from his sleep, he saw close by him a branch of silver with white blossoms, nor was it easy to distinguish its bloom from that branch. Then Bran took the branch in his hand to his royal house. When the hosts were in the royal house, they saw a woman in strange raiment on the floor of the house. ’Twas then she sang the fifty quatrains to Bran, while the host heard her, and all beheld the woman. (more…)

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