A few years ago, I met Carol Drummond, a poet who lives in Florida. From our long conversations about the painting “The News”, came out this poignant poem she titled “The News of Impossibilities”. I could not explain that painting in better words… “She knows she’ll hear them whisper Bijou when she walks-in. Bijou — …
There are stories that simply worth telling. It’s not because I want to fill the earth with one more of them, but it’s because that story, perhaps, can find its sibling in one of yours. Last January, as the year was changing and many were exchanging wishes, I decided to create an art work that …
It always amazes me to see how one word can have so many personalities. The word “quarantine” for example is “quarantaine “ in French. While it means as well to be put in isolation, it also means to be in one’s forties. The age of wisdom, right? So now that I am forced to be …
Slowly my roots have entered into this land It’s here that I have been raised On this land I met you Yesterday we talked about it Do you remember? Today I am looking for a street A face that I know A name that I love God! They are all gone By foot, on wheels, …
Il découvrit l’Honnêteté dans un détour, le matin où il s’est entendu avec ses démons. C’était pourtant une matinée humide et chaude. Le ciel était obscurci, des oiseaux criaient un rythme lugubre. Rien ne le préparait à la rencontrer, elle, si lumineuse dans sa robe bleu. Un grand flamboyant rouge étendit son feuillage et dessous, …
I’ve been thinking about you About the toys that you received from us I see your excited eyes in my mind Your endless smile Why didn’t I ask you for your age? Are you right or left-handed? Are you still telling your story? Or Have you by now understood the horror you will face?