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.
I enter the sanctuary And joyful splashes of bright light Illuminate altars of leaves. I am barefoot, The waters trickle, trickle, trickle And in my dizziness, I hear fallen flowers on the ground Whisper… They call me Walking Tree Tree tree tree… WHO treads with a light foot Amongst us, guardians of the Realm? The trees open their ears, Serpentine
Above the clouds, I touch the sun With tenderness, Longing, And golden fingers. Below, a cocoon of clouds With here and there a tear Where in its dark intimacy suddenly The breathing of that Great Being Is unveiled.
I dreamt that the only solution for some children to go on an outing was to spend the prior night in my bedroom. 17 children in my tiny bedroom! 17! But we managed. Got up in the middle of the night to give more blankets to some girls sleeping on the bare floor but no one complained about the lack
Where corals grow While fish play hide and seek A spirit gardener of old Grabbed my hand. With the sensual kiss, The gentle tug, Opened up the garden of delights. In the breeze, Flowers sighed, Their heavy scents rising to the moon. O Wilderness, Listen gracefully, The sacred fire in my heart Still roams the paths of white sand Swept
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