11. Shikidô
Shikidô! 私 の 色 道 五 十 歩
Shikidô! The sensual and erotic “Japanese way of colors”, where I sought and lost myself, where I went without voice, without money, without power. Progressive denudation and loss of all that covers and believes oneself. Absolutely lost in what has no resemblance. The more I went along this path, the more my work yielded to the hazards of time, to the hazards of my love, to the hazards of my perversions, to the hazards of everything that passed through my head, to the hazards of everything that I hallucinated, at all events. I collected them all as such, as the source of my paintings, as a daydream where I loved to play, enjoy and drown, as my hunger for fragments without beginning or end. The work was then created by listening to what was happening in me, what was emerging in it, pushed by a preventive energy dating back to before itself
Extraordinary achronia of my destiny. Dream, ecstasy, painting, desire do not know time. Experience that is not even intimate, that is irrelevant, like all dreams. In painting, the subject is present, but in the third person, like an insect lost in the middle of the image. The painter’s fixed gaze, almost motionless, in a place without place, which is not without time but remains suddenly. Fullness that can only be lived, so to speak, after the fact. The vision tearing away from its sensation, it almost tearing away from its experience. Shikidô: out of the body, the place, the time, and even the feeling to find oneself at the mercy of a phantom density in agreement with the feminine sexual deity.
Are you coming, honey ?
Are you coming, honey ?
The dream is always another life. History is superimposed on it only by deforming itself. Fierce at any approach, immense, sumptuous, breaking the frames in the zigzags of the oddity, he jumps the years and takes us elsewhere where reigns light in human form and where old fairies spin in the middle of the ruins. Something may spring from nothing, a girl of an inaccessible grace awaits you at the entrance of a dilapidated house. This world of the impossible often collapses at the moment I arrive there, sometimes after I have lived there, drunk, eaten, made love several nights in an acrid voluptuousness. Wiggled and undulating nymphs from the springs, seen in profile from the ankle up to the knees, thighs and hips. White, black or red ladies who pass, slide and hasten the pace. If the mothers are puritan, Catholic, old and too horrible, I shamelessly take their daughters on the pillow thinking of the great loves of old. Once awake, I then live for a few hours of thousand questions made to this imaginary world.
Joy in the ruins !
Joy in the ruins
Painting like writing raises without filling hands, makes smile without anything having changed, gives time to sit side by side in the middle of the ruins. And yet no one touches the bodies. Sometimes love actually comes, and that also comes to a name, someone’s name. Then begins this other vertigo, that of being both one and two, of never ceasing to be that as much as this. Incredible perspective above the void, image of the stubbornness of life to live, fabulous fitting of bodies between the torn terms of desire !
yes, you do the trick !
amber portrait of Haruka Akasako
summer 2023
Does the flesh refer only to itself? Certainly at first to itself, but also to much more than itself since it is to all that we engage in life. Whatever this flesh, the essence of the desire is to take the body of the other as the revelation of absolute intimacy, as befits. I think it’s the most moving thing to say to someone, “Well, you’re okay.” I would say, “Well yes, you do the trick” , if it weren’t for something a bit vulgar, but that’s what it’s all about, “Rest assured, you exist!”
12. Journey in Scorched Shadows
Journey in Scorched Shadows
New book by Daniel de Saint-Yon published on August 29, 2022 at Spa
(available from Gutta & Astula)
“As Empedocles threw himself into his volcano, 50 years ago I immersed myself in the ‘human servitude’ of passions to explore all the shadows and lights. It is Spinoza, the philosopher of joy and happiness, who will serve me here as a companion and guide to tell you in words and images the burning thread of this singular story, totally atypical, of hearts in disarray and bodies in disarray.” Daniel de Saint-Yon