The art of doubt

One day with sad thoughts:
  • what is the good of all this?
  • Am I really a painter?
  • why am I painting?
  • why am I painting?
  • who do I paint for?
I told myself that the best way to stop these dark thoughts was perhaps to paint them.
Observe the colors and their effects.
Take out a large frame stretched from a white canvas that smelled of linseed oil.
Feel from this moment the slowing down of the flow of time.
Let yourself be seduced by the mysterious charm of the whiteness of the canvas, its lasciviousness, its contagious calm but perhaps foreshadowing future melee in our playground.
To leave an emotion coming from far away; as a call from an invisible inviting Lorelei, to get naked by freeing ourselves from everything we are, from everything we know, to jump into the water and swim towards it.
To free oneself from the known to go towards the unknown.
To let a new swimming come with new gestures generating new forms.
Let cries of joy escape seeing things happen on their own.
Everything is only to discover and contemplate, there is nothing else to do.
The inner journey of that day made me a little tired but it made me happy by making me rediscover that all that was good, that to paint gave rise to a liberation of time and allowed to reach this state of grace which s’ call joyful thought.