Dear friends, family, viewers (internet/video) and readers, dear others,

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I've come to meet you from where I am.

All I ask is that you respect my path. Each to their own. I'm sharing my approach with you in all sincerity. I want to share with you all the components of this process, as long as this sharing is constructive for you and for me, and opens up new understandings, new perspectives. I've come to share an experience with you because it is dear to my balance and to my heart to feel, to think, to express both in the moment of introspection and in that of otherness.

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The many facets of our emotions, representations, visions and dreams shed light on the trials and tribulations of life. If we are willing to make them visible, the various artistic modes are excellent vectors.

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As long as I can remember, I've been expressing myself through creation, as if creation, in whatever form, is what keeps me alive.

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I'm not a technician, nor have I been in any of the artistic fields I have visited. That's not what interests me about art. I don't like beauty for beauty's sake, technique for technique's sake. I get bored when art is very intellectual or too perfect. I need some kind of emotion to touch me, to resonate in me, so that I can enter an artistic universe. I'm very sensitive, and this ability is an afliction but also my strength. I experience colors, I experience shapes, just as I experience sound, deep in my body. An autumn landscape can move me to tears. Being able to express these feelings and emotions through a medium is a lifeline. It allows me to live in a world that would be unbearable without that crutch. Art is a third party that gives me a sense of satisfaction, an inside and an outside. It's not just a distraction, a hobby. It has always been there, giving me as much as I give it. Art is my pillar, it is the support of my inner life. It's vital, not incidental.

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Once upon a time, in the year 2020, in times that are both recent yet seem antediluvian to me — since as I write these lines, we are in 2024 — I met someone: my therapist. She uses daydreaming in her psychoanalytic sessions. I lie on the couch, dream and put my dream into words, then we analyze it. I'm instructed to write down my dream after the session. But as time passed, something strange happened. I felt the need to paint my dreams. Then I'd go back to the couch and describe my paintings. And while I was painting, a peculiar thing started, the dream expanded into the painting, bringing to light elements that I couldn't have thought of, that were unknown to me, and as soon as they appeared, they allowed me to put them into words. It's this double dynamic that I invite you to explore with me in this presentation. Language comes through movement, and movement needs language.