November 25, 2025
I could say that I love flowers, that their beauty inspires me. But that would be too simple. The truth lies elsewhere, in a deeper place.
Nature has always been my matrix. An inner place before being an outer landscape. It taught me movement, transformation, instinct. It is where I recharge, where I breathe, where I better understand what inhabits me.
Since childhood, I have felt deeply connected to it, it is my “safe zone”. Nature calls to me, reassures me, repairs me, surprises me. It is there that what I call my “inner movement” operates.
And at the heart of this movement, there are flowers.
Flowers have become my way of speaking. I do not paint them to represent reality: I paint them to translate what is happening inside me. A mirror of what I am going through, even when I don't know how to say it yet. I create flowers that take up space, that grow where they want, that go outside the frame as if they knew where to go better than I do.
It is that freedom that I pursue while painting. A living thing that breathes, that vibrates, that overflows.
In my phone, thousands of photos of flowers and foliage, encountered during my hikes, travels, and various trips.
I embrace the phantasmagorical, the unreal colors, the impossible shapes. Not to escape reality, but to show what reality does not always reveal: intensities, intuitions, invisible movements.
For a long time, I was told to draw something other than flowers. But flowers are my alphabet. My graphic nervous system.
Each flower is a question I ask myself. A way to understand what is going through me. A way of telling my story.
Flowers are my alphabet. And you, what is yours?