During this confined and partyless spring, the artist improvised games of shapes and colors in disordered spaces filled with flowers offering their chalice to the swirling breath of the wind.

Fragile blooms that quickly wither and disappear without shards in the confused mass of painting in these abstract gardens. Bewitching gardens so much the perfumes seem to exhale from the vegetation, so much a certain heat and a very carnal humidity seem to emerge from them.

However, the paintings are not just a naive evocation of the spring festivals, those ancient flower shows that made the gods lose their heads and allowed Titus and Bérénice to glimpse a happier destiny than that of an inevitable separation.

They also offer a reflection on nature from which we have long moved away. A nature that disappears, delivered to the insatiable appetites of our destructive consumption.

They also speak of the withdrawal of our society, which cowers under conflicting fears and the isolation of each towards the others. We don’t really look at each other anymore and we most often act for a selfish purpose while wondering what world we live in.

Have we lost even the sense of celebration, even if we still remember some very beautiful country parties?

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