Oil on canvas – 11,81 x 11,81 inch – Unique work
Faced with the abyss of the earth, I feel so small.
Once upon a time in the bowels of the earth, in the murderous depths, miners were mining coal in the Delloye pit. For 40 years, generations have followed the same path. The path of courage, hard work, danger, mutual support, solidarity at work and at home. That’s the way it is in Lewarde.
Oil on canvas – 11,81 x 11,81 inch – Unique work
Lying on the hot sand, I feel so small.
On the beach at Merlimont, after a good swim in a 17° sea as the tide falls, and yet how good it was, I was able to play with the waves, closely watched by lifeguards. It’s reassuring even though, and don’t laugh, I had plenty of foothold, the water came up to my waist. But can’t we drown in a glass of water ?!
Oil on canvas – 9,45 x 11,81 inch – Unique work
Facing the sea, I feel so small.
Tirelessly, the ebb and flow of the waves makes me feel blue. A never ending story punctuated by the waltz of the tides. An impressive amount of water as far as the eye can see. The horizon seems so distant, unreachable. Is the earth flat? Round? Honestly? Who could tell from my point of view, very specific, in Ambleteuse that afternoon.
Oil on canvas – 9,45 x 11,81 inch – Unique work
The wind is blowing like mad. I feel so small.
Driving along the Berck beach, I hear the gusts of wind through the windows. The fine sand is projected on the bodywork. It becomes embedded everywhere. Passers-by who pass, well who try, fight against the squalls. The children are snuggled up to their parents. Some refuse to move forward. It’s so amazing, this force of nature.
Oil on canvas – 16,14 x 10,63 inch – Unique work
I am writing these few lines and there you are, lying very close to me. You meow, you purr while letting your tail sweep my keyboard!
Oil on canvas – 15 x 18 inch – Unique work
On the lake in the Bois de Vincennes, on December 18, 2020, he is there, he is waiting for me.
Oil on canvas – 11,81 x 9,45 inch – Unique work
While Paul is lying on the beach, he starts to think, he starts to dream. Then, a familiar sound pulls him out of his soft sleepiness. And what’s this sound? The one that spreads on the seashore; the one that recalls holidays; the one that wakes up in the morning … the one of the seagulls. They are there, swirling, just above his head.
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