Very lucid about the meaning of life; itself not a game? Cruel Sometimes and, Often on the scale of humanity... One only has to see this outburst of hatred, of violence which covers world news. And even a certain cultural “industry” adds to it by “titillating” the appeal to the sensational, to the excess, to the mediocrity of the thought of the “I”... Under these conditions, how can one speak of happiness without being selfish?
How to transmit sweetness, delicacy, attention, love, joy, play, delirium, desire, dream, questioning, sharing in this world of brutes? Yet this is what I try to answer in my creation. Hoping to share it, I want it with an intelligent and enduring simplicity.
The artist's work must speak for itself. It is a mental construction that is expressed over a certain distance and a certain duration.
Events, reflections and the meaning of the game guide my reflection, my turns... and this, without excess of sincerity... such is my functioning.
Art is, for me, like philosophy. Both must be linked to reality to be useful to the other, to others... Show the things of life with brilliance in form and discreetly in substance. Knowing how to take the time to look, to sit down to decipher, to feel things... It is perhaps a luxury today!
More cerebral than intellectual, I wonder about the absolute necessity of having a concept. Perhaps it would be a tool, a guide, a link between creation, the artist and those who watch? Did primitive peoples need it to create? More recently, there have been artists who knew how to explain their work and others who did not.
