Lignes de vie

A promenade through the ages of life, time and space through six genealogical trees
Séparation histoires

Passages à l’âme

Unique, from past lives and stories, we come to the world to offer this unknown
Séparation histoires
Masque radio crâne 1
2013 - Encre et gaze sur radio - 43.5 x 51 x 8 cm
Les masques
2013 - Installation
Masque broderie radio main 1
2012 - Plumes brodées et prière pyrogravée sur radio - 51 x 38 x 8 cm
Les cris et l'oiseau
2013 - Installation de 30 radios et d'un oiseau en bronze - détail
Le cris - installation 2
Les cris et l'oiseau
2013 - Installation de 30 radios de cris et d'un oiseau en bronze
Livres de rêve
2013 - Installation de 4 livres de rêves - détail
Livres de rêve
2013 - Installation de 4 livres de rêves - détail
Livre de rêve
2013 - Installation de 4 livres de rêves - détail
Auto-portrait avec mon sang
2013 - Photographie
Auto-portrait avec mon sang
2013 - Photographie - sang rhésus O+ de l'artiste sur radio de crâne anonyme
Scanners
2013 - Intallation de 5 scanners sur socle en chène et versets de Ezechiel gravé dans le plexi.
Scanner livre 1
2012 - Scanner, fils rouges et verset Ezechiel 37, 17 sur socle en chêne - 21 x 29.7x 145 cm
Scanner livre 1
2012 - détail
Scanner bassin 1
2015 - Scanner, fils rouges et verset d'Ezechiel 3, 3 sur socle en chêne - 21 x 29.7x 161 cm
Scanner pied droit 3
2015 - Scanner, fils rouges et verset d'Ezechiel, 1, 9 sur socle en chêne - 21 x 29.7x 141 cm
Passages papier ciré
2013 - Installation sur 2 portants de 84 passages invisibles à l'encre gaze et cire sur papier ciré
Passages bois - les mères
2012 / 2013 - détail
Passages bois, les mères
2012 / 2013 - Plumes, fils rouges et perles sur mère en hêtre et enfants en bois de cornu - 130 x 255 x 120 cm
Les âmes
2013 - Installation de 8 radios, gazes et encre
Totem
2010 - Installation
Totem
2010 - Bronze sur socle centenaire et prières 73 x 260 x 64 cm
Totem
2010 - détail

Unique, from past lives and stories
we come to the world to offer this unknown

On the path of my freedom, I looked to where I came from, what I carried, who I was, what that meant. Abandoning for a moment the world which surrounds me, I went into myself to discover my sensitive and creative side; it brought me to gentleness and violence, to my births and my deaths, to the necessities of life.

On this tumbling road on the question of meaning, I bandage with certitude my bleeding worries. Who knows the intention of their soul? The why is nagging.
I look through two openings, a prism of the world. Isolated from myself, uncorrelated, parts of myself appear and disappear, creating the illusion of reality. The inside and the outside. A mask, able to signify the beautiful and the ugly, or the good and the bad. I search in the eyes of the other for my truth. He only sees himself. We are masking each other.

On this road, searching for our differences, the dissociation rips cries from us. From birth we cry to return to the breast of our mothers, a cry from fear of the cold, and of rage which resonates in all languages, for all ages. The cry of helplessness and of anger. Waiting for comfort from a world which vibrates and vacillates. When the echo of my cry reaches me, if I hear it, answering my needs, I take under my wing my own and unique truth, my inner mother, and fly away towards my destiny.

So I will go where my dreams take us, into my memories first to pay homage, then on the search for the shadow which preceded me. I will confide the reality of my dreams, nightmares or promises. To fly on the shoulders of the angel towards necessary voyages.

On this road butting against the question of meaning, I look back, curious about the emptiness which swallows me up. I reassemble the bits and pieces which have made up my life, a patchwork which defined me and of which I am constructed. I draw the map of my path, on which murmur my ghosts. Which silent paths have preceded us? Reconstructing myself piece by piece, I embroider what has been bequeathed to me, what has been transmitted to me and which exceeds me.

Raising my gaze led me to illusion, made me stumble, on my road I ask myself the question of meaning. I look in myself and reunite with my heavenly part.

Going towards the paths of knowledge, putting our feet on those which have preceded us, without believing that they knew better than us, without allowing ourselves to split, to become fragile, joining our souls to those of others, we create the Divine.


Décrocher la lune

Exploring the strangers within ourselves
Séparation histoires

The absence in our paces

These paths that precede us.
Séparation histoires