In case you should not have payed attention, this is the autumn literary season and it made me want to write too.
Of course, color is the favorite medium of artists, but sometimes they want to use words. So, here is a personal putting in words of my feeling about color.
I am fond of colors
When I was young, I was convinced that I would never be utterly consumed by one and only one passion to the point it should become a fixed idea.
“Life is too rich just to enjoy a small part of it” I was thinking, looking at it with the certainty and the arrogance that characterize the period when everything is possible and when the need to build up one’s own life invites us to peck greedily in all directions.
So life led me to drink a little of everything but actually nothing. This abundance and the multitude of discoveries, encounters, experiences, filled me up until the age of thirty.
But then, time came to choose. So far, I had looked for my one way and I had found nothing. In a vital necessity, I began to unpack everything on the table and, in this jumble of facts and gestures, one thing remained glittering. Actually, I had known this thing when I was very young, but its memory had been very intermittent. But this thing had never left me, even though I had often scrapped it cowardly. This thing is color and art to play with it, so to let it express itself through me.
This way was immediately validated because I remembered that, venturing on this path in the past, color had already saved me from dejections, small and deep depressions that sometimes I had to face.
My outside journeys abruptly moved into inner journeys and then I began seriously to convene the so-called “natural” of the existence, in other words Life.
First very intimate and especially profane, a window opened very quickly between my own nature and Nature. I hopefully jumped in the landscape. On pain of getting lost and not to repeat the same mistakes-dispersion and superficiality- I based any colorful work under the filter of my background.
I understood that, with my way of being, to create well with the colors, I first had to feel in my cells what I elaborated! I set to decompose and recompose my feeling of the natural.
This analytic approach has nothing to do with an intellectual one. I know I will never commit the fatal mistake to make a too conceptual art which is to pull away all the emotional side so as to control the outcome.
When I start to think and to act in colors, I am always in what is real or in what is going to happen.
Creating is like diving in the ocean and shaking oneself in it so as to being sprinkled.
However, this vital inner immersion became fatal because, over the years, an increasing attention on the movements of my inner life showed me my human condition. More specifically, it appeared to me that my status of woman, now stripped of casualness, was politically and concretely dictated by times I belonged to. Self education, work, entertainment, health care, how to love, having children and how to bring them up, and even what to admire and what to hate: at the outset a painful awareness but a needed and healthy one.
It is why I have never stopped my colored trips. Since then, colors are my revolution and drive me to be rebellious to any visible or insidious violence that we have to face day after day.
An appropriate dosage of this drug prevents me from sinking. The will of freedom, even at the level of my thoughts since it should be pretentious to declare being free through my acts, is decisive.
I am addicted to orgies of light and color, this is my path to win my freedom.
I become light and volatile, such as clean air, then I sail with swiftness, I escape my burdens and so I recompose my Earth.
“Enter” in colors, it is filling my lungs with sparkling and refreshing colored breaths but above all coloring ones. I want to be a possible incarnation of color, I want to understand their agreements and antagonisms, I want to make their flashes sparkle at a high level of intensity, I want to be the breeding ground of their joys, I want them to pull us out from our greyness, I want them to project their beams, I want them to titillate and to awake up dormant people, I want them to jostle jaded people
If they stir their atoms, they hustle ours, without any doubt.
They are my riding… they make my head spin.
I siphon them. First I invite their joyful landings in my intimate space, then on my canvas. I pick them up from the universe, I recognize their cosmic mechanics. Like sounds, I presume they are the first vibrations of Creation. The roundnesses of our Earth blossom through them and through them its clamor escapes.
Please note it, do not forget it. In a gloomy space, they are sparks of life. Some are still alive, we just need to be in harmony with their desires, feverishly. One can just look at them or like me having a furious eagerness to knead them, to pug them, to lay them down so as to digest their fleshly lives.
In my works, their presences are lighted up with violence. I know they can generate thunderbolts. That has already happened to me and I know that many people have had the same experience. It is the purpose of art: I endorse this mission and I spread their chromatic vibrations.
Often my painting is seen as innocent, gently utopian, but these bystanders only look at appearances. They look at without seeing, with a zapping mind.
That does not matter because I know more and more about the secret of colors. Full of vital forces, they always end up illuminating fake values, feed the hollow and overcome stupidity. Everything is done gently but with determination. Despite what contemporary art says, a graceful aesthetic does not harm colors, on the contrary, so it operates nicely hidden. Their cheerfulness blinks, their joyful fancy relaxes us and, meanwhile, their grace floods us. Divas of Creation, they are the inexplicable that happens to express itself. In them, lives a seed only accessible through contemplation, here no place for busy and superficial persons. I have understood this obviousness and if I create, tirelessly and obsessively, it is to help people like me who understand at this moment they are like the colors themselves: seeds ready to color the world.
Thank you for the time allowed
and I hope to other colorful adventures soon!
Cet article est aussi disponible en: French
- Colors in words