As a creative soul and photographer for more than ten years, I paint an uncompromising self-portrait of a naturally facetious artist, tormented, spreading himself too thinly. Telling your own truth is neither easy nor simple. Montaigne wrote: “It is a rugged road, more so than it seems, to follow a pace so rambling and uncertain, as that of our soul; to penetrate the dark profundities of its intricate internal windings; to choose and lay hold of so many little nimble motions (…)”
He was talking about writing. As photography is, by nature, psychoanalytical, perhaps in its sheer extremity exists the mirror of the photographer’s soul. We can always try!
Future technicolor
Who?
Exuberant
Chaotic
Explosive imagination
Exhilaration of beginnings
Always on the go
Impulsive
Stubborn
Having difficulty finding myself
I saw myself at that limit
Where reason no longer grasps consciousness
And on that edge where we act
Without ever seeming to be ourselves
Real for others
Mirage for self
Choosing the lucky escape
Incensed cries
Twisting and turning
The sweating body
Escaping me
The strangeness of self
Facing a mirror
Only the reflection remains
Memory effaced
Technicolor future
Unreal
Tossed around
Strangled
Revigorated!
Time disperses me
I slip through
Endless sleep
No other awakening like this
Translated by Sally Ruddock Rivière
