One evening I leaned over a yellowish paper with the obsession of going in search for the meaning of time.
Not in the manner of Proust because it was not about the “search of the lost time”, but time in its more global and universal sense.
On this subject the theories of quantum mechanics about a “time which does not exist” fascinated me.
Can we conceive of a world where past, future and present merge?
I use my hands for pressing, my fingers or rough wood pieces for tracing the lines, the words. Obviously, a will for a primitive and brut approach. A technique that creates stronger bonds between me and the canvas. A unique sensual experience for unique pieces. The beauty of the monotype medium lies here, in its spontaneity.
The game of hazard is a sacred rule. A way of letting go and trusting what will become.
Traces, memory prints, sequences, rhythms, points, shades, fades, lines. Some of the prints are finalized with painting,drawing and collage.
