L’Absolu du Romantisme par Girodet ou
« Atala au tombeau » - 1808
Toile où l’érotisme vibrant romantique est une icône.
L’exposition du tableau du Salon 1814 ravive les passions où le sentimentalisme est la marque de ces temps…
Et représente l’expression même du romantisme Girodet à la sensibilité mélancolique s’impose depuis l’après de l’atelier de David comme le peintre des amours tourmentés respirent une poésie nouvelle.
La belle Atala romantique expire dans les bras de son bien-aimé Chactas.
La raison en est qu’ils décidèrent de s’unir dans le mariage, lorsqu’Atala se rappela de la promesse faite à sa mère de rester vierge et chrétienne et choisie le suicide et d’échapper ainsi à sa passion.
Le silence du recueillement dans le tableau autour du corps gracile enveloppé dans un linceul virginal et l’ultime étreinte passionnée qui accompagne la figure aimée vers la tombe, la douleur contenu et pourtant si perceptible de l’amant est la représentation érigée de la gloire du romantisme naissant.
The Absolute of Romanticism by Girodet or
"Atala at the grave" - 1808
Canvas where romantic vibrating eroticism is an icon.
The exhibition of the painting of Salon 1814 revives the passions where sentimentalism is the mark of these times ...
And represents the very expression of Girodet's romanticism to the melancholy sensibility imposed after the studio of David as the painter of tormented loves breathe a new poetry.
The beautiful romantic Atala expires in the arms of her beloved Chactas.
The reason is that they decided to unite in the marriage, when Atala remembered the promise made to her mother to remain a virgin and Christian and chose suicide and thus escape her passion.
The silence of recollection in the picture around the slender body wrapped in a virginal shroud and the ultimate passionate embrace that accompanies the beloved figure towards the grave, the pain yet so noticeable to the lover is the erected representation of the glory of the nascent romance.
Le Songe d’Ossian, Poéme ou
l’œuvre peinte d’Ingres
L’œuvre d’Ingres est d’une poésie rare, illustrant les combats et les amours d’un barde écossais du 3e siècle
Où une mise en scène du héro et de sa femme, de son fils, de sa promise enlacée, entourés des anges et valeureux soldats portés dans un nuage fantomatique.
En premier plan le barde Ossian est assis, appuyé sur sa harpe et rêve.
Ossian's Dream, Poem or
the painted work of Ingres
Ingres's work is of rare poetry, illustrating the struggles and loves of a 3rd century Scottish bard
Where a staging of the hero and his wife, his son, his embroidered bride, surrounded by angels and valiant soldiers carried in a ghostly cloud.
In the foreground the bard Ossian is sitting, leaning on his harp and dreaming.
Rêve au féminin
Le Désir d’une jolie femme au sourire charmeur vous enchante, vous transporte vers un ailleurs, un idéal rêvé, au charme de la délicatesse des parfums envoûtant aux nectars des attraits enivrants de l’être féminin et de ses splendeurs voluptueuses, aux courbes idéalisées qui raisonnent aux charmes de l’amour.
Femme être de passions au cœur généreux.
Dream feminine
The Desire of a pretty woman with a charming smile enchants you, transports you to an elsewhere, a dreamed ideal, with the charm of the delicacy of perfumes bewitching the nectars of the intoxicating attractions of the feminine being and its voluptuous splendor, with idealized curves who reason to the charms of love.
Woman to be of generous heart passions.
Le Sentiment des mots
La couleur des mots, puissance évocatrice, la dérive poétique des mots, nous transporte aux rivages d’un monde inexploré.
La dérive des mots abandonnés au large est un appel des états d’âmes où se mêlent sentiments profond exacerbés qui résonnent aux volutes poétique.
Le langage des mots à le sentiment du cœur où la raison échappe aux vagues à l’âme, courir à la dérive des sentiments.
The feeling of words
The color of words, evocative power, the poetic drift of words, transports us to the shores of an unexplored world.
The drift of words abandoned offshore is a call of states of soul where exacerbated deep feelings mingle that resonate with poetic volutes.
The language of words has the feeling of the heart where reason escapes waves to the soul, running away from feelings.
Rêve d’une Jeune fille
Le doux rêve, emportant les jeunes filles est sacré.
Tel un ange au paradis où son monde chimérique est inatteignable, ou seul réside un univers immaculé pur à l’image du paradis ou côtoie seul le créateur tout puissant.
Dream of a girl
The sweet dream, taking away girls is sacred.
Like an angel in paradise where his chimerical world is unattainable, or alone lies a pure immaculate universe in the image of paradise or alongside the all-powerful creator.
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Histoire
Description
Peintre - fais de la peinture et du dessin
Présentation
Peintre - Passionné par la peinture et le dessin -
Habite et travaille à Lyon
Peinture figurative et dessins de modèles vivants (nu artistique).
Pratique depuis 2001 le dessin et la peinture, maintenant habite à LYON (depuis 2012) pratique le dessin à l'Atelier "La Pointe Rouge" (Lyon 4), Atelier "Couleurs Vagabondes" (Lyon 5) ; pratique la peinture (Professeur : Françoise Blanc Dupasquier) et le dessin à l' Atelier Terreaux (Lyon 1) et a fréquenté les Ateliers "Les Amis des Arts" à Boris Vian (Montluçon depuis 2001), l'atelier ROUGET (Montluçon) , l'Atelier "Estampes et Pittoresques" Pédagogie Rigat-Esselin (Lyon 4), L'Atelier Ouvert (Lyon 5).
Contact :
contact@phrpeinture.fr
Bonjour,
**** J'espère que vous apprécierez mes toiles (peinture à l'huile blockx) j'ai + de 30 toiles en projet. Veuillez me contacter si vous le souhaitez, je suis à votre disposition pour toutes envies d'acquisitions de mes tableaux ou de mes dessins, laissez-moi un MESSAGE ou un EMAIL sur ma page http://www.phrpeinture.fr/contact-commentaires/ ou contact@phrpeinture.fr
Le Poète
"Le poète, transcende ses émotions, voit plus grand que le simple quotidien, change d’échelle, pour un peintre, ses émotions deviennent des couleurs harmonieuses sensibles, l’écrivain transforme un quotidien banal en apparence, en une multitude de sentiments intérieurs plus ou moins forts ; sa réalité est transcendée. Il met son âme à nu. Le quotidien nourrit le poète qui se laisse aller à sa nature profonde, à ses aphorismes libérateurs…"
Le Rêve
"Le monde du rêve est le monde de l'irrationnel. On y rencontre ses fantômes du passé chargés d'énigmes où les clefs restent à découvrir, joue avec les réalités présentes."
------- Mon Art - " Le monde de mon Art" --------
La ROSE
"Mon emblème, est la Rose, sa délicatesse au caractère féminin, ses joyeux coloris aux couleurs de l’amour, rouges et roses, au doux parfum et aux senteurs subtiles, habillée d’une fraîche rosée matinale."
"Mon dessin est le dessin de l’émotion qui a pour finalité de mettre en forme ce qu'il y a de plus perfectible chez l’humain, ce qui le caractérise, le défini, ce qui est propre à la définition de celui-ci, un être sensible, un être poétique."
"Ma recherche dans le dessin serait une double quête, celle de la beauté et, de la recherche de l’être poétique et les deux réunis étant l’harmonie parfaite de l’être idéal, de l’être rêvé. Le désir d’un artiste inspiré par la beauté émanant des êtres."
"La pratique de mon art est une quête vers l’excellence, vers la perfection, sans fin, et pour seul objectif d’atteindre celle-ci."
Le Nu ou les courbes ou Désire artistique
Le nu ou dessin du vivant est une discipline ardue ou le hasard n’est pas conseillé.
Le nu demande d’être à l’écoute de soi et du modèle. Votre crayon suggère votre idéal, votre sensibilité, vos émotions ou le trait retranscrit ce que notre mentale synthétise, perçoit par une ligne émotion.
Alors les courbes qui se succèdent dont on évalue, mesure l’intensité ; le rendu vous suggère telle l’observation d’un paysage sur le motif l’accord parfait à mettre en place pour séduire ou étonner soi-même ou son publique et fervents admirateurs.
Matisse un art génial de simplicité et de grâce :
"L’Art de Matisse est un art sans fioriture, ce qui le définit est un art qui tend toujours vers la grâce, la force des coloris et la simplicité dans le langage Matissien."
"Je voudrais dessiner le sentiment, la délicatesse d’une coiffure l’attrait d’un visage radieux le sentiment qu’il dégage, la joie, la tristesse, la mélancolie, l’âme insaisissable d’un être unique, l’intériorité d’un être dans son intimité."
La femme éternelle, d'une éternelle jeunesse :
"La femme devrait être d'une éternelle jeunesse présentant ses meilleurs attraits, le visage éclatant de fraîcheur au doux contour, dessiné délicatement pour mieux voir de belles courbures qui dessinent le menton et le cou ainsi que le creux près des yeux qui continue pour dessiner un joli nez descendant avec des lèvres saillantes aux jolis coloris"
- "La Rêverie est indispensable à tout créateur, le peintre y accède en créant un monde poétique aux couleurs harmonieuses, un jeu de couleurs douces à l’image de certains tableaux de Balthus ; « Le rêve I & II », « La Tireuse de Cartes », « Jeune fille à la fenêtre » ; paysage, « Bouquet de Roses sur la fenêtre » ; nature morte, « Fruit sur le rebord d’une fenêtre » …"
"Mon Art me réconcilie avec le monde, l’art magnifie la beauté de la vie et son sens profond…"
"Dans mon Art, je fais apparaître une vérité extérieure pour mieux dévoiler, entrevoir, découvrir une vérité intérieure ou pour mieux y déceler l'intériorité des êtres."
"Corroborant les dits de Rodin sur ce que doit être l'Art, trouver la vérité qui doit être soit une vérité extérieure ou intérieure, moi je vise dans mon travail de réaliser à la fois une beauté extérieure et révéler en plus une richesse intérieure, la perfection serait de révéler les deux vérités avec un résultat les magnifiant de façon irréprochable.
Le but à atteindre serait de viser les deux, dans sa plénitude."
"L'approche du nu artistique, c'est-à-dire la pratique du dessin, est une science de l'émotion et une recherche de la vérité du modèle, la sienne qui est à découvrir, où l'instant présent reste à être révélé, pour trouver sa vérité, son moi intérieur..."
"L'Art doit être l'expression de la liberté : pour bien pratiquer un art, celui-ci dans sa réalisation doit être simple et offrir à l'artiste tous les chemins (Clefs) de la liberté, pour l'exercer de façon aboutie".
"La présence d’une chose et plus encore d’un être, une personne, est essentielle. L’Artiste face à son sujet, analyse son modèle le décortique pour en retirer, son harmonie, la légèreté des traits (Visage), sa douceur, sa générosité, ce qu’un instant de vie nous offre, immortaliser l’instant présent, l’éphémère, l’insaisissable, saisir la grâce d’un être, c’est s’approcher du domaine des dieux, lieux inaccessibles par les simples mortels, c'est-à-dire conquérir l’Olympe."
"Le plus grand des voyages est intérieur, parcourir le chemin de soi"
"Dans l'Art ou dans d'autres domaines, voir la vérité nue est troublant, mais essentiel pour celui qui la découvre, vital et nécessaire à l'accomplissement de soi."
"L'exercice de la vérité : Approcher de la vérité est un exercice difficile, un chemin tortueux ou l'on doit s'affranchir des obstacles, ceux identifiables dans un présent proche et les autres qui restent à vaincre dans la sphère de l'hypothèse, ou la vérité future peut-être révélée à force d'effort."
"Le vrai visage de la vérité découverte peut être riche en enseignement (même négative) ; La seule vérité est soi-même..."
"L'Art permet de se réapproprier son passé et de renouveler sa vision du présent et futur, une façon de révolutionner son image personnelle, sa vision de soi."
"Chacun a une approche différente de l'Art, mais il me semble pour qu'il soit véritable, il faut qu'il touche les choses les plus essentielles à son âme et non être une réalité quelconque qui n'a aucune importance pour soi ou pour autrui...
"Quel serait le grand art, il pourrait être le rapprochement de l'art pictural avec la grande musique, l'art musical et ont les appelleraient l'art total."
"Le Dessin est une vue de l'esprit qui n'a pas d'âges, l'esprit peut- être d'une jeunesse insolente..."
"L'Art pictural, la peinture, est un art, si on le maîtrise à la façon des grands maîtres, demande l'art de la composition qui est un art savant. Une composition réussie et élégante est un art d'une grande maîtrise et de sensibilité ; la position d'une main, d'un bras, d'un pied, d'un corps, le profil d'un visage peut-être d'un raffinement, d'une beauté sans égale."
"La peinture sauve l'âme du peintre."
"La peinture d'un peintre est le reflet de son âme intime."
"L'amour à ses secrets des domaines des dieux. (ou réserver aux domaines des dieux.)"
"Lorsque l'on a du génie, l'on peut avoir quelques fulgurances."
"Je crois détenir quelques talents cachés..."
"Dans la recherche de l'art, lorsqu'on le pratique on acquiert petit à petit, un 7e sens pour moi, car je crois détenir, un 6e sens qui est en moi ..."
"Un amour non transfiguré en art est un amour non rendu utile ou inutile ou tari des origines de son essence même, non révélé."
"Un ancien amour est un trésor à découvrir, à révéler, le mieux pour vous servir est l'art."
"Un amour de jeunesse ou un premier amour est un trésor insoupçonné."
"La femme et ses courbes à de ses délicieux atours une fleur ou une rose du matin n'en a pas moins de charmes."
"La perfection est peut-être faite femme où les courbes harmonieuses et savantes ainsi que les finesses du corps et de l'esprit défirent le caractère masculin."
"Saura t'ont un jour qualifié l'âme féminine et masculine dans sa vérité et son exactitude de l'être où ce qui les définies dans leur être profond dans leur moi intérieur."
"La féminité à des traits délicats, une harmonie musicale parfaite dont la douceur et la volupté à d'égale à de reconnaissables grands opéras lyriques."
"En amour, la jeunesse vous fait aimer l'âme et la beauté d'une jeune personne ; son apparence et le reflet de son âme vierge que le temps pourrait transformer, durcir ou enlaidir causé par les épreuves de la vie."
"La jeunesse à de supérieur que celle-ci est que tout est possible, envisageable, et ses attraits encore vierges des défauts des caractères intransigeants et rigides d'un caractère solidifié et figé par le temps."
"Eugène Fromentin par ses multiples talents cachés est un maître du romantisme comme il le dirait : 'un maître d'autrefois'."
"Le destin était apparemment tout tracé pour les héros de Charlie, la consécration, la gloire, mais une fin toute tragique les attendait ou la mort est aveugle exécuté par ses serviteurs de l'ombre."
"Un pays où tout est possible où les idées neuves et innovantes permettent à l'individu de se réaliser et de s'accomplir sans barrière dans un esprit de conquête et de pionnier est un pays d'avenir, en évolution, en croissance, riche de la valeur ajoutée des citoyens que forme cette nation.
C'est le sang d'une nation bien portante, dont sa jeunesse d'esprit peut vaincre et conquérir sans crainte tous les défis de l'avenir..."
"Un territoire, un espace a des frontières alors que l’esprit humain n’en a pas, son imagination est inépuisable, se renouvelle sans cesse. L’Esprit est rebelle et cherche à découvrir ce qu’il y a au bout d’un chemin, ce qui se cache derrière l’infini. La nouvelle frontière à explorer est l’esprit humain chaque milliard d’hommes sur notre planète est un Nouveau Monde à découvrir de par son esprit, il peut être très surprenant à la fois très proche de par son humanité et insaisissable par sa vitalité et sa logique surprenante de son esprit. L'homme ou l’humanité se distingue par son esprit, un esprit qui cherche sa liberté, son identité, son indépendance et peut faire preuve de compassion. L’homme est l’Homme/Esprit."
"Le peintre est le témoin du temps, au doux profil d’une jeune fille assise, aux couleurs chatoyantes, cheveux longs, mains croisées, le paysage défilant rapidement, aux instants pressés qui est notre époque aux allures saccadées d’un train filant sur l’horizon ensoleillé."
"La réserve et la timidité d’une jeune fille, au teint rougit de délicatesse, à la pureté des caractères sacrés des portraits des grands maîtres aux madones tout empreints de sainteté."
Un jour à Paris
- France, chère France.
- France, terre de liberté et d’expression.
- Paris, capitale de l’amour et de notre liberté chérie.
- Oh ! Toi Paris, ce Vendredi Noir enlaidi et meurtri…
- Paris, capitale des Artistes ; Chagall, Picasso, Manet, Pissaro, Cézanne, Sysley, Van gogh, Fromentin, Chasseriau, Rodin, Ingres, Matisse, Léger, Balthus, Balzac, Hugo, Zola, Proust…
- Toi, oh ! Capitale des arts et des lettres.
- Toi, belle demoiselle au goût raffiné ta robe blanche immaculée, rougie et frappée par la fureur monstrueuse.
- Non, France, la belle insoumise, fière de ses valeurs porteuses d’espoir et de liberté…
- La bête monstrueuse au dessein noir ne triomphera pas.
- Toi la belle outragée, malmenée, tu souriras, face à la bête hideuse.
- Les âmes emportées des innocents frappés en plein cœur brilleront au firmament.
- Toi, avec ton armée des ombres, tu ne nous assouviras pas. Les hommes et les femmes aux esprits épris de liberté ne te laisseront pas faire.
- La barbarie et la sauvagerie ne vaincront pas.
- Les esprits aveuglés, de rage, de sang, et de fureur ne verront pas la lumière, promis aux froides noirceurs des ténèbres.
- Les âmes douces meurtries iront illuminer les cieux tels d’innombrables champs d’étoiles éclairant notre chemin promis à un avenir rempli d’espoir…
L'auteur :
Philippe Rousseau.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Florence, ma belle amie.
- Ma chère amie, à votre sourire que tout embellit.
- J’irais courir près de votre souvenir.
- Votre sourire ou vos yeux rougis de larmes, de rires et de tristesse.
- Votre joie de vivre et votre cœur rempli de tendresse et de tristesse.
- Oui, vous, ma chère amie, je vous ai aimée follement.
- Toujours près de vous, dans nos tendres moments.
- Votre silhouette dans le vent, embellie par vos charmants habits.
- Toujours vêtue avec goût, tout en harmonie.
- Nous étions faits pour nous rencontrer, j’aurais dû vous demander en fiançailles.
- Nous avons souvent ri, vos beaux yeux sous le soleil dans les jardins du roi à Versailles.
- Par un triste jour, nous avons été surpris par les caprices de la vie.
- Loin de vos yeux, mon souvenir amoureux, je n’étais plus qu’un fantôme du passé.
- C’est alors que tout s’est bouleversé.
- J’espère que votre cœur ne s’est pas trop froissé.
- Votre cœur rempli d’espoir et de tristesse. Je suis toujours à vos côtés.
- Un jour venu nous le dira, quant à votre heureuse venue, j’irais dans vos bras vous embrasser.
Auteur : Philippe
À toi, cher Lionel,
Cher Compagnon,
Je suis attristé, nous sommes tous attristés ce jour, nous qui avons croisé ton chemin.
Toi qui avais ta propre philosophie dans l’existence.
Face à l’ombre, à l’ironie de la vie, tu savais prendre le détachement nécessaire.
Ton combat qui était le tien, je le partageais, nous sommes tous respectueux de ta force.
Ton souvenir me dit que tu as gagné cette bataille. J’aurais voulu te voir à la conquête, d’autres aventures et de la réussite qui t’attendait.
Tu seras pour moi un exemple.
Le chemin que tu as tracé avec force et détermination nous éclaire face à la difficulté, à l’envie de réussite à accomplir.
Toi qui avais le goût de la discrétion, de l’anonymat, j’aurais voulu te connaître un peu plus, malgré notre complicité dans le travail.
Ton sourire empreint de complicité et de générosité sera l’image de ton souvenir.
La vie devrait être toujours plus forte, toujours gagnante.
Il me reste maintenant les larmes face à ton évocation que j'aurai voulue encore réelle…
Ton Philou
L'être mélancolique
"La tristesse, la mélancolie est un sentiment difficile à réaliser sur un dessin, un sentiment indescriptible est une chose possible à retranscrire par le trait est presque inimaginable par d'autres moyens. L'on peut s'en approcher, mais pas faire la représentation fidèle, en dehors de celle par l'image qui vous met dans l'état de conscience de la personne."
Vaincre, un but à atteindre
"Viser un objectif dans le but de franchir tous les obstacles qui paraissent être un fossé incontournable et s'y maintenir obstinément sans relâche. Abattre une à une les difficultés, franchir ou déjouer les schémas perdants, retourner chaque échec en Victoire. C'est conjurer la loi de l'échec, logique fatale des "mauvais esprits" formatés et destructeurs qui pourraient se croire en état de supériorité de fait, par leur position dominante, tel l'oiseau de proie."
Qu'est-ce qu'une vérité, et les lois...
"Une vérité est faite pour se partager, se vérifier, elle est admise par tous, ceci, reconnue par les esprits adroits, elle est étudiée, vérifiée, validée...
Mais ceci n'en fait pas plus une vérité pour autant, la vérité est une affaire de point de vue, de culture, qui ne pourrait être régie par aucune loi, telles les lois de la physique qui régit notre monde, notre univers, sans qui tout s'écroulerait, comme les nouvelles théories à l'inverse du big bang, le big crunch...
Imaginé par un esprit des plus brillant et novateur Stephen Hawking très grand mathématicien et physicien de notre ère du 21e siècle débutant.
Un havre de paix
"Un havre de paix, un endroit retirer en dehors des grandes métropoles est un lieu d'apaisement, la propriété de quelque esprit libre, est indépendant. De nos jours, ceci est constaté une exception, qui se voudrait être partagé par un cercle d'homme d'exception à l'image des grandes demeures bourgeoises du 19e et antérieure..."
La Liberté
"La liberté, bannière et revendication affirmées par certains, est une valeur recherchée, est brandie de nos jours comme un étendard, un drapeau. Les étoiles de la liberté ou les esprits éclairés qui affirment avec forces et convictions par des écrits et des réflexions. Et non comme une idée publique et institutionnalisée est selon moi les meilleurs semeurs, et les lumières aux idées nouvelles pour l'émergence d'une nouvelle prise de position en faveur de l'indépendance d'esprit, et d'une liberté plus grande. Tel l'esprit des lumières des hommes restés libres du 18e siècle. Ou Jean-Jacques Rousseau qui fut l'inspirateur et l'idéologue de la Révolution française.
La femme être d'émotion
-"La femme qui se veut esprit libre, est indépendante. Aux originalités séduisantes et extravagantes, marque hissée vers le haut par l'industrie du luxe, et de la beauté. L'esprit féminin est imprévisible, sensible, et émotionnel qui fait son exception et sa valeur. L'imaginaire féminin est insondable tant il est chargé d'émotion, mais il peut-être aux antipodes et chargé d'une froideur des plus glaciale..."
L’enfance le temps romantique
Le temps de l’insouciance, ou ce passé doré des temps de jeunesse est un monde chargé de romantisme des premières découvertes. Le souvenir de l’enfance est une photo aux allures légèrement floutée, tant l’émotion de ce temps reste sensible, et idéalisée.
Ce monde perdu et rêvé au souvenir romantique est en chacun de nous. Nous recréons cet univers aux doux songes d’un temps où toutes choses paraissent immortalisées…
Le sourire des portraits de Jean-Marc Nattier
ou Adélaïde la fille de Louis XV
L’accent au doux sourire complice, inimitable des jeunes femmes aux tenues recherchées du peintre, des gens nobles de la cour de Louis XV.
Ces tableaux aux caractères et aux couleurs douces avec un fond léger paysagé, couleur 18e ou se détache des silhouettes où l’on devine une jolie bergère ou une jeune femme habillée d’un chapeau et d’une robe fleurie au joli corsage blanc près d’un hameau stylisé au goût de l’époque.
La touche du pinceau de Nattier est d’une délicatesse perdue soulignant les attitudes colorées d’un rose léger. L’atmosphère qui règne dans les tableaux ou le temps paraît s’arrêter, s’immobiliser pour mieux révéler un art de vivre, un doux temps aux ambiances tranquille et apaisé, ou les aiguilles du temps filant ne compte plus, le temps figé ne fait plus qu’un.
La sensibilité et l’émotion toute retenue de sa peinture évoquent une époque ou chaque chose avait son importance, le goût raffiné et le détail des jolies choses présentes ouvrent l’imaginaire vers le temps des lumières. Ce 18e siècle où la légèreté des choses et de l’esprit était un goût à la Française, l’Esprit français.
Balthus, le peintre à la douceur féminine, d’un temps perdu
Balthus peintre aux accents mystérieux, et intimistes.
Au doux portrait du teint d’une jeune fille alanguie. À la timidité et l’innocence d’une jeune fille rêveuse dévoilée. Aux douces harmonies pastel chatoyantes des portraits ou paysages et natures mortes.
La douceur, la fraîcheur de sa peinture est une recherche, d’un temps perdu, où se côtoie l’innocence, tel un profil d’une jeune fille, aux traits apaisés, où se dévoile la personnalité et la force de l’esprit contenu du jeune modèle.
Il faut que ce soit tout l’esprit d’un peintre d’un autre temps tel Balthus, pour retrouver le temps, d’un temps perdu.
À retrouver…
L’Être révélé ou l’inconscient
L’inconscient est notre moi profond.
Son être intérieur est le reflet de notre âme, le révéler met au grand jour la profondeur de son être, sa lumière jaillissante ou sa noirceur aux fins fonds des abîmes.
Toucher la lumière ou la révéler dans un espace d’un instant éternel aux accents poétiques, où la lumière vous irradie et inonde votre champ d’espace dans un jaillissement éclatant.
L’inconscient état révélateur met à votre portée votre champ de conscience à un niveau insoupçonné, vous dévoile vos désirs et vos peurs dans leur état initial de leurs émotions, dans toute sa force et sa pureté originale.
L’être est révélé dans sa beauté par l’inconscient, sans calcul ou préméditations d’aucune sorte.
Le miroir de notre âme, ou l’inconscient ou le moi révélé, est un champ puissant, sans notions de valeurs, accrochées à nos plus profonds désirs…
La Poésie ou « le Peintre de Vénus »
Alain Bonnefoit tel Matisse réincarné, nous transporte par ses dessins de nus dans la pure poésie ou les mots sont impuissants, les lignes dévoilées dans une douce harmonie de couleurs exaltent les corps et les esprits dans une innocence aux reflets apaisants.
Le sujet féminin, ses mystères, son innocence, sa sensualité exacerbée sans pudeur aux courbes affolantes, vous dévoilent, l’être féminin dans toute sa puissance.
Portrait d’une jeune femme
Une jeune femme, dans sa nature préserve sa timidité, son être est le reflet de son âme pure.
Sa curiosité, sa fraîcheur, sa quiétude, dans le regard de ses pensées lointaines, scrutant le paysage défilant à l'horizon.
Le souffle de sa respiration expiré, un regard affirmé soudain perdu, puis sa posture imposante affirment son jeune caractère.
Et dans un doux repos, ferme les yeux dans un sommeil envahissant apaisant.
Ma langue maternelle, le Français
Comme une douce comptine, on s'approprie sa langue, à son être, à son identité, à son moi propre. La langue et comme une petite voix intérieure qui reflète sa propre image.
La langue chante sa culture, ses distinctions qui font toutes ses appartenances à un esprit, l'esprit de ses valeurs ; en mesure et en subtilité reconnaissable à un air musical tout en finesse, l'esprit français.
MODIGLIANI ou le regard sacré
Dans ce Paris effervescent où tous les esprits créateurs bouillonnent.
Un artiste qui se prédestinait à la sculpture choisit la peinture par dépit, il se veut un aristocrate de l'art, un philosophe romantique de la bohème.
Chercheur de l'âme perdue, aux multiples portraits féministes. Jeanne icône aux accents de pureté. Muse éternelle, être absolu, être idéal rêvé désirent de l'idéal d'un artiste.
Yeux bleus, aux déformations picturales salvatrices, la sensibilité de l'artiste doit corriger la nature.
Être dévoilé dans sa vérité première, sans artifices, l'âme perdue transparaît, témoin de la vie d'une âme, regard désincarné, où la peinture est plus forte que la vie.
Le vide prend sa forme en un être révélé, seule l'apparence d'un corps subsiste, seule face au monde du peintre, unique maître d'un destin arraché aux injustices de la vie.
Seule la grâce, valeur intouchable, n'a yeux à son cœur.
L'amour et ses mystères sont l'objet unique de sa peinture. Sa peinture est une recherche absolue d'une quête amoureuse et cherche à dévoiler le mystère de l'amour.
La mort veut le séduire alors qu'il rêve à la vie, incapable de faire face aux obligations de l'existence.
Hubert Robert (1733-1808)
Peintre de l’ancien régime à la magnificence
Du goût à la française.
Hubert Robert au goût pittoresque de la nature, devenu membre de l’académie de France à Rome, l’art français des études sur le motif et l’un des principaux sujets de Robert avec l’un de ses condisciples Fragonard qui s’y adonne volontiers.
Peintre d’Architecture, il a la douce mélancolie des ruines, véritable poétique, la ruine témoin de l’achèvement de toutes civilisations humaines du regard aiguisé des temps à venir qui nous guette.
Peintre sensible « La Lingère » composition à l’huile à l’esprit 18e à l’instar de Fragonard avec un goût plus prononcé d’une poésie aux couleurs chatoyantes de brun et rouge de Venise aux décors orchestrés magistralement dans toute sa simplicité, la légèreté des tissus de la belle lingère, au délicat profil, à la nuque dégagée, aux cheveux relevés, ainsi que les manches retroussées, on y découvre un joli bras relevé tenant le drap de la main délicatement suggérée jusqu’aux doigts.
Scène mise en œuvre par de jolis feuillages de quelques vivaces végétaux disposés ici ou là de façon astucieuse ou l’on retrouve le goût de la nature chez Robert comme dans tous les tableaux de facture 18e.
Hubert Robert vit le déclin de la monarchie au temps perdu révolu des précieux, mis en contraste par la violence de la terreur révolutionnaire, sous le dictat d’un homme, Robespierre, ou il fut emprisonné, en attendant le tranchant angoissant de la guillotine et libéré après la fin somme toute tragique de l’homme de la terreur.
Le vandalisme révolutionnaire par les évocations répétées de Robert de ruines, traduit la mélancolie des jours d’un temps oublié à jamais….
Reste l’Esprit de l’époque sous son pinceau toujours vivant…
Le charme féminin
Être de passion à la présence évanescente, regard lointain, à la silhouette fine émanant la grâce.
Imperturbable, tout son être irradie le romantisme.
A la délicate attitude, tout en féminité. Être femme.
Résistance
Le politiquement correct est une forme de langage sans goût ni saveur, la Poésie ou le Poète doit être en embuscade.
Notre temps sous cette loi du silence insidieux rend l'époque et les esprits vides. Le Verbe doit être assassin tout comme l'Art sans aucun compromis d'aucune sorte.
Prenez le maquis... Le goût de la Liberté !
Le réveil ou la peur
On prend goût à la vie sous la joue incessante d'un pistolet sous la tempe. Le Temps est décuplé, les secondes sont des siècles à contempler...
Être soi
"Être Loup ou être Chien" ; le choix imposé, moderne de notre société et une sorte d'esclavage, fidèle à la promesse à tenir, pieds et mains liées, bouche bâillonner, emprisonnée.
Le Loup fier et conquérant à la recherche de nouveaux territoires guette sa proie, il est un seigneur à éliminer...
1860 Frédéric Bazille –
Source de l’impressionnisme aux portes de la peinture moderne
Peintre de l’école de batignolles révélé dans un tableau de Fantin Latour, il est l’ami doué de Renoir, Monet, Manet, dans l’atelier de la rue Furstenberg.
Rue au destin croisé d’un peintre de notre temps, Balthus où il peint le tableau « La Rue » (de furstemberg).
Manet, le leader qui révolutionne la façon de peindre et les codes établis, au parfum de scandale, sous la redingote, E Manet, ou dans le Salon on « s’encourage l’esprit de Révolte », l’instigateur du célèbre Salon des refusés.
Frédéric, élève consciencieux de l’atelier de Gleyre au dessin sûr, il se joue de la couleur avec une fraîcheur et une vérité de tons aux effets de lumières.
Peintre aux compositions audacieuses à la touche rapide avec une économie de moyen inspiré de son maître Manet, qu’il suit de ses pas, qu’il compare à Cimabue et Giotto pour l’Italie du Quattrocento.
L’Esprit est peuplé d’enfer
(ou le monde caché de nos incertitudes)
L’Esprit d’une personne est un monde inexploré.
Un monde sans limites ni frontières ou le réel et l’imaginaire s’affrontent.
Aux portes du Paradis ou de l’enfer…
L’esprit est une entité à part entière qui a une liberté et une vérité qui met notre moi à toutes épreuves.
Nos rêves tels des frêles navires voguent au grès des courants et vents, s’en vont au loin vers l’indescriptible infini.
L’Esprit peut-être d’une légèreté ou chargé d’un poids envahissant où notre esprit est peuplé d’enfer aux portes du paradis.
Prisonnier de notre esprit ou notre inconscient dérive, explorant les méandres de nos contradictions et vérités cachées pour mieux les extirper à notre insu.
L’esprit est conquérant, indépendant à l’assaut de nouveaux territoires ou nouvelles frontières.
L’esprit humain indompté est infini et sauvage.
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- L’Esprit est peuplé d'enfer.
- La beauté invite à la perfection.
- L'art est une douce violence.
Le Peintre du sentiment
Peindre ou dessiner le sentiment, voilà l’essentiel de ma démarche artistique, l’essence même de ma vision.
Pour moi, c’est l’unique raison et justification de l’ensemble de mon travail.
La Vérité des Êtres
L’alchimie de l’âme ou le peintre du Sentiment
Un sentiment est une chose fugace d’un être. Ce qui distingue les êtres est leurs intériorités ou leurs états d’âme.
Révélé par cette chose insaisissable qu’est le sentiment ou ce que l’on éprouve intérieurement résultat de l’alchimie d’un être.
Communiqué par la parole ou plutôt celui qui est imperceptible que l’on perçoit chez l’être aimé, sans mots ni bruits. Il est là présent en la personne révélée par sa présence, son authenticité naturelle.
Cette chose invisible qui transparaît dans l’intériorité de l’être, dans les passions humaines. Qui échappe à la communication est une vérité nue, pure dans son état, sans calculs.
Je crois être à la recherche de cet état, de révéler cette vérité indescriptible par des moyens qui fait appel à ses sensations, son ressenti, à son vécu, à la recherche de la vérité des êtres.
Trouver l’âme d’un être ou la pureté des sentiments ou saisir l’insondable, l’indicible vérité.
L’imaginaire
Le monde de mon Imaginaire ou une réalité présente réel qui s’impose à moi par mon dessin et ma peinture. Voilà le miracle de l’art ou d’une démarche artistique qui s’impose à vous.
L’imaginaire et une force plus forte, plus vrais que la présence du réel.
Le miraculeux précieux.
La Vérité est dans la Perfection
En ce qui concerne l’Art, il y a une vérité, une vérité de l’œuvre, l’Art met à nu la vérité de celui qui l’emploie. Est l’Artiste et à la quête de la perfection, il doit façonner la perfection ou tendre vers celle-ci pour atteindre sa vérité.
La perfection permet de se rapprocher de la vérité de l’œuvre ou du but à atteindre.
Atteindre la perfection ou sa perception de celle-ci est découvrir la vérité dans son accomplissement et dans sa nature la plus pure des forces qui la soutiennent du sentiment, de la beauté, dans sa force ou état originel.
Accomplir cette perfection et découvrir sa vérité, son sens, un état de révélation, une transcendance accomplie.
C’est le parcours qui mène à la vérité de l’artiste à sa quête d’absolu.
Vérité et Perfection.
La beauté invite à la perfection
Toute beauté est le signe de la perfection, elle est son essence, son élixir, son condensé, son algorithme mathématique. La beauté est la résultante d’une perfection accomplie présente.
Toute beauté et la résultante d’un mécanisme qui sont une pureté d’un savant équilibre d’une précision d’orfèvre, d’une loi universelle.
La beauté est un cheminement qui exclue toutes approximations, hasard, mais le résultat d’une recherche approfondie, calculée, évaluée, résultat d’une minutie, d’une loi naturelle.
Cette recherche est le parcours vers la perfection ou l’on trouve un équilibre parfait. Résultat de la beauté éternelle ou universelle, immortalisé dans l’œuvre d’un artiste ou l’accomplissement de son œuvre ultime.
Avec l’inconscient
vers de nouveaux horizons
Ouvrir son champ de conscience à des champs inexplorés.
L’inconscient vous fait voyager, transporter vers des possibles inexplorés, vers un ou des ailleurs, des autres possibles, vers un meilleur avec soi et les autres, un partage possible.
La possibilité de réaliser une réussite, un accomplissement de soi.
L’inconscient cette chose incomprise, cet autre possible rejeté, occulté.
Il est une source de renouvellement, un moteur insoupçonné d’un autre équilibre, être en paix avec son inconscient ou aller vers la voie de la réalisation de soi…
La beauté des femmes, elles marchent
comme des Chefs d’œuvres
La femme ou le modèle féminin à la séduction angélique telle des madones Italienne, Raphaëllienne ou des nus ingresques, vous enivre par leur beauté naturelle telle un diamant d’une pureté insoupçonnée, inégalable, unique, le corps de la femme a été fabriqué par des maîtres d’orfèvres qui raisonnent tels des chefs d’œuvres de grands maîtres de la peinture classique ou de la renaissance.
Le Chef d’œuvre est faite femme ou le corps féminin rivalise avec le génie de l’Artiste, son créateur…
Le Langage des Fleurs ou
« Les Boréades » ou Alphise et Borée
Les sentiments sont parfumés, aux élixirs du langage du cœur, les Fleurs sont leurs attribués.
Au Pays des Boréades, où le cœur et les Vapeurs des Sentiments sont en rivalités avec la reconnaissance de son rang, de sa position où il n’y a pas de place pour les prétendants sans reconnaissances ; ou sans force par sa position ou sans le respect des gens de biens et de valeurs acquis sont un préalable à sa condition d’homme.
Le Langage coloré et parfumé qui parle aux instances du cœur de l’être aimé. Est une langue aux accents empreinte de pureté loin des lois intransigeantes des Boréades injustes, féroces, cruels et lâches.
La Vérité des êtres
Un être passionné est pur, tel un ange dans son royaume à la blancheur éclatante.
Où règne la lumière, elle foudroie l’être sans Vérités ou mensonges.
La vérité est transparente comme un cristal parfait où nul n’ombre où impureté serait s’y loger.
L’être féminin
Attentif, sensible, sous une apparence de fragilité assumée, est un être à l’apparence douce ou l’âme respire la tendresse et la générosité du cœur
Les Femmes douces ou
les cheveux triomphants
La beauté d’une femme et d’une chevelure est au Féminin.
Les enchevêtrements, les mises en plis, les coiffures savantes rivalisent aux splendides et magnifiques crinières chevalines.
La coiffure sauvage aux mille boucles ou plis ordonnant, structurant ce trophée triomphant à la gloire du chef-d’œuvre féminin.
Attribut racé tel un félin dans sa robe brillante de tous feux.
Objet tant convoité des artistes à la réalisation d’une œuvre empreints de poésie, d’harmonie, à la beauté rêveuse tout Balthusienne.
Le Luxe à la Française
Le raffinement est français dans sa langue, dans l’art de recevoir, dans les grandes marques de la haute couture et de la parfumerie, ses arts musicaux, ses grands maîtres de la peinture et même dans les domaines des sciences.
Le goût à la Française est courtisé, recherché partout dans le monde, empreinte indélébile de notre esprit et de notre culture.
Dans le grand bouleversement de la mondialisation où tout tend à s’uniformiser sans goût, ni saveur, ni distinction…
L’identité française est une marque de fabrique en elle-même tel Paris la capitale du romantisme et de l’amour chanté par nos poètes…
Paris dans l’Ère du 21e siècle est la capital de la « Cop 21 » sera peut-être notre dernier salut face au monde.
Le miroir vide aux idoles
La désespérance des esprits ou leurs pauvretés ou le mal être, sont à la recherche des idoles qui seraient comblé leur vide ou manque, combler leur idéal accessible prêt à consommer.
La société actuelle aux miroirs des idoles et un leurre fugace aux esprits légers, indigents et pauvres. Notre société moderne ou l’intériorité des êtres est amoindri paupérisé où le savoir n’a d’égale à un vide incalculable.
La culture objet de notre patrimoine national et une façade ou seuls quelques esprits aventureux s’égarent, l’économie du travail ou notre modèle de vie de l’immédiateté du prêt à consommer dans l’urgence ou le temps coure, où nous devons vivre dans l’instantané, nous vide de notre richesse.
Le temps, le temps retrouvé doit être notre allié, doit s’immobiliser s’arrêter pour une recherche plus riche, un temps approfondi à l’acquisition de la connaissance dont l’aboutissement de notre identité est seul à ce prix.
Création et génie
Les génies des premiers siècles, au ceux moderne de la peinture rivalisant entre Van Dyck, Michel Ange, Léonard de Vinci, Raphaël, le Titien, Rubens, Poussin, Ingres, Delacroix, Picasso, Matisse raisonnent encore à travers les siècles par un éblouissant palmarès de créateurs touchés par la grâce et la beauté.
Nul ne peut rivaliser avec autant d’impertinences que ces génies de la création, rivalisant avec les miracles d’un seul créateur, d’un ordre universel, divin…
Monsieur D ou la peinture resurgit
ou Degas danse Dessin
Fervent admirateur Paul Valery a le projet d’écrire sur Edgar Degas, mais pense que celui-ci ne le verra pas d’un bon œil, renonce.
Puis il écrit pour se concentre sur la question de la créativité et du génie. Et écrit sur « l’introduction à la méthode de Léonard de Vinci » et « La Soirée avec Mr Teste ».
Paul Valery sur son écrit sur Degas a pour projet de comprendre les enjeux d’une vie de création. Son ouvrage est kaléidoscopique et surprenant, avec des réflexions sur la création, des anecdotes, des souvenirs ; tels ceux de Berthe Morisot…
L’ouvrage est un mouvement sur les sensations et les sentiments, toujours guidé sur sa réflexion sur la création avec cœur et moins avec l’esprit, et fait preuve d’un témoignage de l’un de ceux qui ont connu l’artiste.
Tout est dessin chez Degas, jusqu’à la sculpture, car il est son essence, la Ligne.
La pensée de Valery comme le dessin de Degas où tout est interrogation de ce siècle postrévolutionnaire où la ligne est mouvante comme la modernité abandonne les certitudes.
Degas révolutionne son art et cherche autre chose, ne plus concevoir un Chef-d’œuvre comme aboutissement d’un processus.
Mais plutôt dans la réalisation de Variations. Dans l’idée d’un processus de répétition de motifs, d’observations.
Et le Dessin est un vecteur de rapidité d’exécution pour l’artiste, qui l’intéresse plus particulièrement.
Degas est à la croisé des chemins est bascule entre le 19e siècle et le 20e siècle du cercle des impressionnistes où naît une autre modernité.
Les avant-gardes se croisent où le Jeune Picasso admirateur de Degas et Premier acheteur…
Rêve d’une jeune fille
Le doux rêve emportant les jeunes filles est sacré.
Tel un ange au paradis où son monde chimérique est inatteignable, ou seul réside un univers immaculé pur à l’image du paradis ou côtoie seul le créateur tout puissant.
Ne pas céder à la médiocrité toujours aller de l’avant.
La vie est un chemin où il faut trouver sa voie, et choisir à force de volonté les bifurcations qui mènent à la réalisation de soi, pour un meilleur, prouver ses aptitudes ses moyens de se réaliser.
L’esprit peut être plus fort que les chemins de la destinée qui peuvent vous dérouter de votre idéal, de votre quant-à-soi, de votre individualité, de soi.
Ne pas se laisser à la médiocrité que l’on vous contraint, mais éclairer son chemin vers des ailleurs possibles, son territoire à conquérir, à l’égale, de ses champs de ses idéaux et raisonnements et capacités intellectuelles développés, intériorisés en soi, dont la valeur n’attendait son accomplissement révélé.
Le Nu ou les courbes ou Désire artistique
Le nu ou dessin du vivant est une discipline ardue ou le hasard n’est pas conseillé.
Le nu demande d’être à l’écoute de soi et du modèle. Votre crayon suggère votre idéal, votre sensibilité, vos émotions ou le trait retranscrit ce que notre mentale synthétise, perçoit par une ligne émotion.
Alors les courbes qui se succèdent dont on évalue, mesure l’intensité ; le rendu vous suggère telle l’observation d’un paysage sur le motif l’accord parfait à mettre en place pour séduire ou étonner soi-même ou son publique et fervents admirateurs.
Le Sentiment des mots
La couleur des mots, puissance évocatrice, la dérive poétique des mots, nous transporte aux rivages d’un monde inexploré.
La dérive des mots abandonnés au large est un appel des états d’âme où se mêlent sentiments profonds exacerbés qui résonnent aux volutes poétiques.
Le langage des mots a le sentiment du cœur où la raison échappe aux vagues à l’âme, courir à la dérive des sentiments.
L’effet papillon
Vole au grès du vent.
De ses ailes blanchâtres, vole dans le bleu du ciel.
Être papillon et s’envoler vers le fil d’un destin prometteur, d’un destin à la reconquête d’un ailleurs.
Bataille interminable où sans cesse à la recherche de votre idéale.
La couleur ou
la poésie des sens
La poétique des couleurs est un langage sensoriel d’un monde chimérique, au ciel cotonneux aux couleurs pastel.
Le sens poétique aux harmonies sensible et légère vous élève dans un monde rêvé, un idéal poétique ou l’imaginaire est roi où tout est impressions, émotions.
Le Songe d’Ossian, Poème ou
l’œuvre peinte d’Ingres
L’œuvre d’Ingres est d’une poésie rare, illustrant les combats et les amours d’un barde écossais du 3e siècle
Où une mise en scène du héros et de sa femme, de son fils, de sa promise enlacée, entourés des anges et valeureux soldats portés dans un nuage fantomatique.
En premier plan le barde Ossian est assis, appuyé sur sa harpe et rêve.
L’Absolu du Romantisme par Girodet ou
« Atala au tombeau » - 1808
Toile où l’érotisme vibrant romantique est une icône.
L’exposition du tableau du Salon 1814 ravive les passions où le sentimentalisme est la marque de ces temps…
Et représente l’expression même du romantisme Girodet à la sensibilité mélancolique s’impose depuis l’après de l’atelier de David comme le peintre des amours tourmentés respire une poésie nouvelle.
La belle Atala romantique expire dans les bras de son bien-aimé Chactas.
La raison en est qu’ils décidèrent de s’unir dans le mariage, lorsqu’Atala se rappeler de la promesse faite à sa mère de rester vierge et chrétienne et choisir le suicide et d’échapper ainsi à sa passion.
Le silence du recueillement dans le tableau autour du corps gracile enveloppé dans un linceul virginal et l’ultime étreinte passionnée qui accompagne la figure aimée vers la tombe, la douleur contenue et pourtant si perceptible de l’amant est la représentation érigée de la gloire du romantisme naissant.
Être Poétique Pure
L’Être féminin est toute poésie.
La sensibilité féminine est de la poésie pure.
L’attitude, le geste de la chevelure, le profil perdu d’une jeune femme à la chevelure tombante sur les épaules sont pure poésie.
Rêve au féminin
Le Désir d’une jolie femme au sourire charmeur vous enchante, vous transporte vers un ailleurs, un idéal rêvé, au charme de la délicatesse des parfums envoûtants aux nectars des attraits enivrants de l’être féminin et de ses splendeurs voluptueuses, aux courbes idéalisées qui raisonnent aux charmes de l’amour.
Femme être de passions au cœur généreux.
Tendre amour
À mon cher tendre amour.
Ma belle du jour, enchanteresse de ma vie.
Cher amour, mon tendre amour, ma chère amoureuse au regard enchanteur plein d’espiègleries touchantes, cher amour.
Trésor, ma muse de mes rêves, aux désirs infinis, ma belle amoureuse, mon tendre amour.
Ma belle, Oh amour, tendre amour, la femme de ma vie.
Le jardin de ton amour
Mon amoureuse, j’aimerais gagner ton amour.
La pureté de tes sentiments, j’aimerais les cultiver dans ton jardin secret, être le jardinier modeste de ton amour, entretenir la rose de ton cœur.
Qu’elle s’épanouisse d’un rouge parme amour aux senteurs subtiles d’un parfum recherché qui exalte les senteurs du bonheur.
J’aimerais conquérir le chemin de ton amour.
Et t’aimer, et partager le fruit de ton amour, être le jardinier attentif de ton cœur, mon amour.
L’œil du Destin
Parcours chantant comme Monsieur Trenet Charles qui tutoie les succès.
Le Destin vous attend pour vous surprendre, vous tendre des occasions, des rencontres qui vous révèlent, vous change.
La chrysalide un jour deviendra papillon pour voler de fleur en fleur.
Faire de sa vie un cheminement de soi à la conquête de la réussite, un possible à réaliser.
L’Envie à l’esprit de ton être
Être et esprit, l’amour inexplicable des êtres attirés comme des étoiles d’un ciel d’été.
L’esprit de ton être insaisissable, libre et léger comme une aile de papillon.
L’essence de ton esprit charmeur, joyeux et bienveillant.
Mon amour pour toi grandissant jour après jour.
Amour, tu irradies dans mon cœur comme un soleil.
Qu’est-ce l’amour ?
Toi oh amour, âme pure à la beauté insaisissable aux mille facettes, tu brilles et éclaires des feux éblouissants de tes hautes valeurs sont égales aux idéaux universels.
La Littérature
La Littérature est Volupté et Sensualité, un pied de nez à l’inéluctable…
Une ode à la vie, au désir, à l’amour.
Doux amour, douce amoureuse.
Mon cœur se balade, que l’amour est doux.
La douceur des sentiments aux gestes amoureux, tout est désir et attente.
Le temps est notre pygmalion qui sait nous piquer à l’instant tant désiré, rêvé.
L'amour poésie colorée aux saveurs inattendues ou l’intensité amoureuse culmine à l’intention de l’être aimé, courtisé, adoré, est révélé.
L’amour est révélation de l'autre, de soi, du désir partagé ou espéré.
L’amour révèle le désir, la douceur des sentiments, aux voluptés des êtres, des passions.
Genève la séductrice cachée aux rivages dorés
La Somptueuse se laisse découvrir au gré de ses humeurs, toi la Genevoise.
Et toi, ma bien-aimée, nous nous promenons dans les quartiers chics ou nous nous émerveillons.
Dans tes yeux, je m’évade et voyage vers des horizons enchanteurs.
Ma bien-aimée au café du centre, sur notre table d’un tissu à la blancheur genevoise, nous nous délectons.
Tes yeux et ton sourire rieurs illuminent mon cœur.
Tu es ma princesse enchantée, ton cœur et ton regard sont mille soleils au bleu d’azur.
Tes pensées, ton esprit m’accompagnent vers un pays enchanteur.
Les mariés de l’an II ou mon amour
Les amours passionnées de Charlotte qui alternent entre jubilations et passions
inassouvies sont le romantisme piquant des passions amoureuses à l’esprit français.
Cher amour et tendre aimé, je t’aime follement tel ses aventures pleines de charmes
et de sentimentalismes ou l’amour est roi.
Je t’aime, mon amour
Ma Passion le Dessin
L’art du dessin du modèle vivant nous-élève tout devient poésie, matière à émerveillements.
L’art du nu est un art abouti à la recherche de la perfection et de la poésie.
Les voyageurs du Temps
Aux futurs voyages dans l’univers, vers des lointains inconnus au-delà des sciences humaines futuristes et avant-gardistes vers l’impossible, l’inimaginable, vers un monde sans fin, au-delà des frontières connut.
Telle Agostinelli et Proust voyageurs de leur Temps.
Ou Agostinelli veut traverser la manche à bord d’un coucou dénommé le Swann.
Où Agostinelli parti ne s’en revint pas ou Proust eut les remords de sa vie, d’avoir financé avantageusement son Valet et ami de cœur vers la mort.
Proust à ses frais fit rapatrier le corps à terre pour le repos de son âme.
Ses êtres de passions et de cœurs sont nos voyageurs d’un temps passé et oublié de notre future avant-gardiste à l’ère de l’information sans âmes, ou la logique et l’intelligence synthétique sont l’avenir annoncé de l’humanité…
L’être aimé
L’être aimé est une lumière dans l’ombre.
Cette lumière vous accompagne, vous guide vers un chemin qui vous illumine, vers un meilleur, un idéal.
L’amour vous grandit.
Mon amour ton sourire, et tes moments de joie resplendissent dans mon cœur qui bat pour toi mon amour.
Au bord du gouffre,
Les fêtes de la lumière à Lyon
Le métro devient l’Enfer, la foule innombrable.
Le temps devient étroit, à la poursuite d’un départ de train pour arriver à temps, les obstacles s’enchaînent.
On vous malmène, met vos nerfs à l’épreuve, sur la corde raide. C’est la course, arrivée juste à l’heure sur le quai de la gare, arrivé juste au bon moment, à temps.
Ce train devient vite bondé, l’atmosphère est oppressant les gens se pressent, s’agglutinent, s’énervent juste à la recherche d’un espace viable.
Puis, c’est l’angoisse qui monte ne sachant pourquoi, dans l’attente d’un apaisement, d’un moment d’accalmie après tout ce tumulte. Vous fermez les yeux à la recherche, d’un calme apaisant, tout ce mélange, se bouleverse puis peu à peu la sérénité pointe, pour peu à peu retrouver la confiance, reprendre ses esprits. Les gens sont plus apaisés, le calme s’installe peu à peu vers la sérénité, enfin…
Moi, retrouvé…
L’Amour retrouvé ou
à la recherche de l'être aimé
Mon amour, je t'ai trouvé et tant espéré.
Tu es mon horizon, ma lumière, mon espérance.
Je t’aime sincèrement, d’un amour profond.
Tu as su me trouver, m’apprivoiser, je te remercie pour ça.
Ton esprit, ton être, tes yeux tout me plaît.
Sans toi, je suis incomplet.
Tu es mon amour tant désiré.
À toi mon amour chéri
Philippe
L’Être et le Néant
Un jour, je suis.
La vie est ainsi, on est à la découverte de soi et du monde.
La découverte est sans fin, notre monde est un univers plein de surprise, et de nouveauté, il est sans fin.
Notre soif d’apprendre est infinie tout comme la vie.
Cette vie que l’on s’approprie, devine, découvre et redécouvre.
Qu’avait-il avant notre monde, le Néant ?
Qu’en est-il après nous, le Néant ?
L’être et le néant, voilà notre questionnement, il est sans fin.
Tout comme notre univers.
L’Esprit quantique
à la différence de la « conscience » dite « quantique »
Qu’est-ce que l’esprit quantique ? Qui décombres de la physique quantique dans mon esprit.
Qu’est-ce la physique quantique ?
Elle échappe à notre raison toute cartésienne, même Albert Einstein grand physicien ne voulais s’y résoudre !
La physique quantique est multiple surprenant, unique en son genre, confus et logique à la fois comme si « un » est seulement « un » ne suffisait pas, divers, et a le don d’ubiquité ou l’omniprésence.
Alors l’esprit quantique serait un être supranaturel, un esprit infini, divers, à la fois ici et nul par et partout, incompréhensible pour notre esprit humain et instinctif.
Serait-il inhumain, suprahumain, incommensurable, une logique démultipliée à l’infini, inconcevable humainement parlant.
Est-il notre futur lointain ? Pour l’accomplissement et le développement de notre humanité ?
Amour et Désolation
- Toi, chère et tendre.
- Être aimé, les terres arides et désolées pointent au bout du jour.
- Ni tumulte, ni désordre orchestré, mais un silence assourdissant rempli de complaintes.
- Seule face au désordre, seul rescapé d’un flot de calamités près de l’abîme.
- Puis-je survivre à ce flot qui m’envahit, j’essaye d’entrevoir la lumière ?
- Le terrible mal être m’accable, me déchire de l’intérieure, que faire…
Le Spleen et la Poésie
Le mal être m’envahit, me surprend, me saisit sur l’instant infini, sur l’étendue d’un océan.
Pourrais-je m’en défaire qui déchirent les chairs et l’âme ?
L’Âme dérive, se perd, s’éternise pour ne plus en finir.
La malédiction vous poursuit sans relâche et fait corps.
Cette sensation vous irradie de tout feu, vous brûle l’âme.
L’instant Noir
Dans l’ombre de vous-même, à l’orée du réel.
Le temps nous rattrape, envahi par le néant qui nous accable l’âme à la dérive.
L’éclair jaillit pour vous frapper dans votre lente dérive, vers des lieux brumeux et désertés.
Vous soulève et vous hante, violente et soudaine tel un ange déchu.
Vous attire vers les abîmes du fond des ténèbres pour vous y engouffrer dans l’espace d’un instant éternel et terrible.
D’un coup, sortir de la torpeur, d’un lourd sommeil, éveillé, le temps s’arrête.
Tout s’agite autour de vous, immobilisé, acteur impuissant, mortifié, pétrifié à jamais.
La vie défile tel un voile obscurci par l’ombre.
Pris d’un rêve Noir à l’orée de l’enfer.
Sorti des ténèbres, vous échouez groggy.
Une rencontre idéale
Au détour d’un chemin, d’un court voyage, une rencontre fortuite peut vous séduire.
Rencontrer un être égal à soi-même intellectuellement est séduisant, inattendu, simple et agréable.
Le long du trajet livre à la main d’une philosophie de vie d’un des auteurs à succès reconnus pour ses pensées philosophiques zen, elle parcourt celui-ci détendu, curieuse.
Elle saisit après une courte pause de sommeil, un carnet, c’est alors que le crayon parcours rapidement et avec élan la surface du papier du carnet. Écriture fine, petite, dense, le carnet sans ligne, les mots défilent rapidement pour remplir la page puis le verso, dans un plaisir insoupçonné, une gourmandise.
Après avoir couché sur le papier l’articulation de sa pensée filante et tout à fait heureuse d’avoir accompli sa tâche, ferme son carnet d’écriture, avec un soulagement et un plaisir non dissimulé.
Nous échangeâmes alors quelques mots prompts à la découverte de ses passions personnelles et l’écriture que nous partageons ainsi que le dessin.
Ravi d’avoir approché un esprit curieux et brillant, d’une simplicité agréable, prompt à l’échange.
------------------------------ French & English ----------------- --------------
History
Description
Painter - paint and draw
Presentation
Painter - Passionate about painting and drawing -
Lives and works in Lyon
Figurative painting and drawings of living models (artistic nude).
Practice since 2001 drawing and painting, now lives in LYON (since 2012) practice drawing at the Atelier "La Pointe Rouge" (Lyon 4), Atelier "Couleurs Vagabondes" (Lyon 5); practices painting (Professor: Françoise Blanc Dupasquier ) and drawing at Atelier Terreaux (Lyon 1) and attended the "Les Amis des Arts" Workshops in Boris Vian (Montluçon Since 2001), the ROUGET workshop (Montluçon), Atelier "Estampes et Pittoresques" Rigat-Esselin Pedagogy (Lyon 4), L'Atelier Ouvert (Lyon 5).
Contact :
contact@phrpeinture.fr
Hello,
**** I hope you will enjoy my paintings ( blockx oil painting ) I have more than 30 paintings in the project. Please contact me if you wish, I am at your disposal for any desire to acquire my paintings or my drawings, leave me a MESSAGE or an EMAIL on my page http://www.phrpeinture.fr/contact- comments / or contact@phrpeinture.fr
The Poet
"The poet transcends his emotions, sees bigger than the ordinary everyday, changes scale, for a painter, his emotions become sensitive harmonious colors, the writer transforms a seemingly ordinary everyday into a multitude of feelings more or less strong, his reality is transcended. He exposes his soul. Daily life feeds the poet who lets himself go to his deep nature, to his liberating aphorisms ... "
The Dream
"The world of dreams is the world of the irrational. We meet there its ghosts of the past loaded with enigmas where the keys remain to be discovered, plays with present realities."
------- My Art - "The world of my Art" --------
The Rose
"My emblem is the Rose, its delicacy with a feminine character, its cheerful colors in the colors of love, red and pink, with a sweet scent and subtle scents, dressed in a fresh morning dew."
"My drawing is the drawing of emotion which aims to shape what is most perfectible in humans, what characterizes it, defines it, which is specific to the definition of it. This, a sensitive being, a poetic being. "
"My research in drawing would be a double quest, that of beauty and, in the search for the poetic being and the two together being the perfect harmony of the ideal being, of the dreamed being. The desire to an artist inspired by the beauty emanating from beings. "
"The practice of my art is a quest towards excellence, towards perfection, without end, and with the sole objective of achieving it."
Nude or curves or artistic desire
The nude or drawing of the living is an arduous discipline where chance is not advised.
The nude requires listening to yourself and the model. Your pencil suggests your ideal, your sensitivity, your emotions or the line transcribes what our mind synthesizes, perceives with an emotion line.
Then the successive curves which we evaluate, measure the intensity ; the rendering suggests to you such observation of a landscape on the motive the perfect agreement to put in place to seduce or surprise yourself or your audience and fervent admirers.
Matisse a brilliant art of simplicity and grace:
"The Art of Matisse is an art with no frills, what defines it is an art that always tends towards grace, the strength of colors and simplicity in the Matissian language ."
"I would like to draw the feeling, the delicacy of a hairstyle the attraction of a radiant face the feeling it gives off, the joy, the sadness, the melancholy, the elusive soul of a unique being, the interiority of a being in his privacy. "
The eternal woman, of eternal youth:
"The woman should be of an eternal youth presenting her best attractions, the radiant face of freshness with the soft contour, delicately drawn to better see beautiful curvatures which draw the chin and the neck as well as the hollow near the eyes which continues to draw a nice descending nose with protruding lips in pretty colors. "
- "La Rêverie is essential for any creator, the painter accesses it by creating a poetic world with harmonious colors, a play of soft colors in the image of certain paintings by Balthus ; " Le rêve I & II ", " La Tireuse de Cards ", " Young girl at the window " ; landscape, " Bouquet of Roses on the window " ; still life, " Fruit on a window sill " …"
"My Art reconciles me in the world, art magnifies the beauty of life and its deep meaning ..."
"In my Art, I bring up an external truth to better reveal, glimpse, discover an internal truth or to better detect the interiority of beings."
"Corroborating Rodin's words about what Art must be, finding the truth which must be either an external or internal truth, I aim in my work to achieve both external beauty and also reveal internal richness, perfection would be to reveal the two truths with a result magnifying them beyond reproach.
The goal would be to aim for both, in their fullness. "
"The approach of the artistic nude, that is to say the practice of drawing, is a science of emotion and a search for the truth of the model, one's own which is to be discovered, where the present moment remains to be revealed, to find his truth, his inner self ... "
"Art must be the expression of freedom: to practice art well, this one in its realization must be simple and offer to the artist all the paths (Keys) of freedom, to exercise it in a way accomplished. "
"The presence of a thing and even more of a being, a person, is essential. The artist, faced with his subject, analyzes his model to dissect it, to extract its harmony, the lightness of the lines (Face), its sweetness, its generosity, what a moment of life offers us, immortalize the present moment, the ephemeral, the elusive, seize the grace of a being, it is to approach the domain of the gods, inaccessible places by mere mortals, that is, conquering Olympus. "
"The greatest of journeys are interior, traveling the path of oneself."
"In Art or in other fields, seeing naked truth is disturbing, but essential for those who discover it, vital and necessary for self-fulfillment."
"The exercise of the truth: Approaching the truth is a difficult exercise, a tortuous path where one must overcome obstacles, those identifiable in the near present and others that remain to be overcome in the sphere of the hypothesis, or the future truth may be revealed by effort. "
"The true face of the discovered truth can be rich in teaching (even negative); The only truth is oneself ..."
"Art allows you to reclaim your past and renew your vision of the present and future, a way to revolutionize your personal image, your vision of yourself."
"Everyone has a different approach to art, but it seems to me for it to be true, it must touch the most essential things for his soul and not be any reality that has no importance for himself or for others ...
"What would be great art, it could be the bringing together of pictorial art with great music, musical art and we would call them total art."
"Drawing is a view of the mind that has no ages, the mind perhaps of an insolent youth ..."
"Pictorial art, painting, is an art, if one masters it in the manner of the great masters, requires the art of composition which is a learned art. A successful and elegant composition is an art of great mastery and sensitivity; the position of a hand, an arm, a foot, a body, the profile of a face perhaps of refinement, of unequaled beauty. "
"Painting saves the soul of the painter."
"The painting of a painter is a reflection of his intimate soul."
"Love to its secrets from the domains of the gods. ( Or reserve to the domains of the gods.)"
"When you have genius, you can have some flashes."
"I think I have some hidden talents ..."
"In the search for art, when you practice it you gradually acquire a 7th sense for me, because I think I have a 6th sense that is in me ..."
"A love not transfigured into art is a love not rendered useful or useless or dried up from the origins of its very essence, not revealed."
"An old love is a treasure to discover, to reveal, the best to serve you is art."
"A love of youth or a first love is an unexpected treasure."
"The woman and her curves to her delicious attire a flower or a morning rose have no less charms."
"Perfection is perhaps made women where the harmonious and learned curves as well as the finesse of the body and the spirit defy the masculine character."
"Sarah has one day qualified you the feminine and masculine soul in its truth and its exactness of the being where what defines them in their deep being in their inner self."
"The femininity delicate features, a perfect musical harmony with the sweetness and pleasure in equal recognizable to great operas."
"In love, youth makes you love the soul and the beauty of a young person; his appearance and the reflection of his virgin soul that time could transform, harden or make ugly caused by the trials of life."
"The youth of superior to this is that everything is possible, conceivable, and its attractions still virgin of the defects of the intransigent and rigid characters of a character solidified and frozen in time."
"Eugène Fromentin by his multiple hidden talents is a master of romanticism as he would say: 'a master of the past'."
"Destiny was apparently all mapped out for Charlie's heroes, consecration, glory, but a very tragic end awaited them or death is blind executed by his shadow servants."
"A country where everything is possible where new and innovative ideas allow the individual to be realized and fulfilled without barriers in a spirit of conquest and pioneer is a country of the future, evolving, growing, rich of the added value of the citizens that this nation forms.
It is the blood of a healthy nation, whose youthful spirit can overcome and fearlessly conquer all the challenges of the future ... "
"A territory, a space has borders when the human spirit does not have any, its imagination is inexhaustible, is constantly renewed. The spirit is rebellious and seeks to discover what there is at the end of a path, what hides behind infinity. The new frontier to explore is the human spirit each billion men on our planet is a New World to discover by his spirit, it can be very surprising at the same time very close to his humanity and elusive by his vitality and his surprising logic of his spirit. Man or humanity is distinguished by his spirit, a spirit that seeks his freedom, his identity, his independence and can show compassion. Man is Man / Spirit. "
"The painter is the witness of time, with the sweet profile of a young girl seated, in shimmering colors, long hair, crossed hands, the landscape parading rapidly, in hurried moments which are our era with the jerky looks of a train running on the sunny horizon. "
"The reserve and the timidity of a young girl, with a complexion blushing with delicacy, with the purity of the sacred characters of the portraits of the great masters of Madonnas all imbued with holiness."
One day in Paris
- France, dear France.
- France, land of freedom and expression.
- Paris, capital of love and our cherished freedom.
- Oh ! You Paris, this ugly and bruised Black Friday…
- Paris, capital of artists; Chagall, Picasso, Manet, Pissaro , Cézanne, Sysley , Van gogh , Fromentin, Chasseriau , Rodin, Ingres, Matisse, Léger, Balthus, Balzac, Hugo, Zola, Proust…
- You, oh! Capital of arts and letters.
- You, beautiful lady with a refined taste, your immaculate white dress, reddened and struck by monstrous fury.
- No, France, the beautiful rebellious, proud of her values ?? That brings hope and freedom…
- The monstrous beast with a dark design will not triumph.
- You beautiful outraged, abused, you will smile, facing the hideous beast.
- The souls carried away by innocent people struck in the heart will shine in the sky.
- You, with your army of shadows, you will not satisfy us. Men and women with freedom-loving minds will not let you do it.
- Barbarism and savagery will not win.
- The minds blinded, of rage, of blood, and of fury will not see the light, promised to the cold darkness of darkness.
- The bruised sweet souls will light up the heavens like countless fields of stars lighting up our path promised to a future filled with hope…
The author:
Philippe Rousseau.
-----------------------------------------------------------
Florence, my beautiful friend
- My dear friend, to your smile that everything embellishes.
- I would run near your memory.
- Your smile or your eyes reddened with tears, laughter and sadness.
- Your zest for life and your heart filled with tenderness and sadness.
- Yes, you, my dear friend, I loved you madly.
- Always close to you, in our tender moments.
- Your figure in the wind, embellished by your charming clothes.
- Always dressed in taste, in harmony.
- We were made to meet, I should have asked you for an engagement.
- We often laughed, your beautiful eyes under the sun in the King's gardens at Versailles.
- On a sad day, we were surprised by the vagaries of life.
- Far from your eyes, my loving memory, I was only a ghost from the past.
- It was then that everything turned upside down.
- I hope your heart hasn't crumpled too much.
- Your heart filled with hope and sadness. I am always by your side.
- One day will tell, as for your happy coming, I would go in your arms to kiss you.
Author: Philippe
To you, dear Lionel,
Dear Companion,
I am saddened, we are all saddened this day, we who crossed your path.
You who had your own philosophy in existence.
Faced with the shadow, the irony of life, you knew how to take the necessary detachment.
Your fight which was yours, I shared it, we are all respectful of your strength.
Your memory tells me that you won this battle. I would have liked to see you conquer, other adventures and the success that awaited you.
You will be an example for me.
The path you have traced with strength and determination enlighten us in the face of difficulty, the desire for success to be accomplished.
You who tasted discretion, anonymity, I would have liked to know you a little more, despite our complicity in the work.
Your smile of complicity and generosity will be the image of your memory.
Life should always be stronger, always winning.
I now have tears in front of your evocation that I would have liked still real ...
Your Philou
The melancholy being
"Sadness, melancholy is a feeling difficult to achieve on a drawing, an indescribable feeling is something possible to transcribe by the line is almost unimaginable by other means. One can approach it, but not make the faithful representation, apart from that of the image which puts you in the state of consciousness of the person. "
To Conquer, a Goal to Reach
"Aim for a goal in order to overcome all the obstacles that seem to be an inescapable ditch and persist in it obstinately relentlessly. Break down the difficulties one by one, overcome or foil the losing patterns, return each failure to victory. Ward off the law of failure, the fatal logic of formatted and destructive "evil spirits" who could believe themselves in a state of de facto superiority, by their dominant position, like the bird of prey. "
What is a truth, and the laws ...
"A truth is made to share, to verify itself, it is accepted by all, this, recognized by skillful minds, it is studied, verified, validated ...
But this does not make it a truth any more, the truth is a matter of point of view, of culture, which could not be governed by any law, such as the laws of physics which governs our world, our universe, without which would collapse, like the new theories unlike the Big Bang, the big crunch ...
Imagined by a most brilliant and innovative spirit Stephen Hawking very great mathematician and physicist of our era of the 21st century beginner.
A haven of peace
"A haven of peace, a place to withdraw outside the big cities is a place of appeasement, the property of some free spirit, is independent. Nowadays, this is noted exception, which would like to be shared by a circle of exceptional man like the great bourgeois residences of the 19th and earlier ... "
Freedom
"Liberty, banners and claims affirmed by some, is a sought-after value, is waved today like a standard, a flag. The stars of freedom or the enlightened minds which affirm with strength and conviction through writing and reflections. And not as a public and institutionalized idea is, in my opinion, the best sowers, and the lights for new ideas for the emergence of a new position in favor of independence of mind and greater freedom. Like the spirit of the enlightenment of men who remained free from the 18th century, or Jean-Jacques Rousseau who was the inspiration and the ideologist of the French Revolution.
Woman Is Emotional
- "The woman who wants to be free spirit is independent. With original seductive and extravagant, brand hoisted up by the luxury industry, and beauty. The feminine spirit is unpredictable, sensitive, and emotional which makes its exception and its value. The feminine imagination is unfathomable so much it is charged with emotion, but it can be with the antipodes and charged with the coldness of the iciest ... "
Childhood Romantic Time
The time of recklessness, or this golden past of youthful times is a world full of romanticism from the first discoveries. The memory of childhood is a photo with slightly blurred looks, as the emotion of this time remains sensitive, and idealized.
This lost and dreamed world with romantic memories is in each of us. We recreate this universe with sweet dreams of a time when all things seem immortalized ...
The smile of Jean-Marc Nattier's portraits
or Adelaide the daughter of Louis XV
The accent of the sweet, inimitable accomplice smile of young women in the painter's sought-after outfits, of the noble people of the court of Louis XV.
These paintings with characters and soft colors with a light landscaped background, 18th color or stands out silhouettes where we guess pretty shepherdess or a young woman dressed in a hat and a floral dress with a pretty white bodice near 'a hamlet stylized to the taste of the time.
The touch of Nattier's brush is a delicacy lost highlighting the colorful attitudes of a light pink. The atmosphere that reigns in the paintings where time seems to stop, to stop to better reveal an art of living, a gentle time with calm and peaceful atmospheres, where the hands of passing time no longer count, frozen time does not do more than one.
The sensitivity and emotion all restraint of his painting evokes a time when everything was important, the refined taste and the detail of the pretty things present open the imagination to the time of lights. This 18th century where the lightness of things and spirit was a taste in French, the French Spirit.
Balthus, the painter with feminine softness, of a lost time
Balthus painter with mysterious and intimate accents.
The sweet portrait of the complexion of a languid young girl. To the shyness and innocence of a young dreamy girl exposed. With soft shimmering pastel harmonies of portraits or landscapes and still lifes.
The softness, the freshness of his painting is a search, of a lost time, where innocence rubs shoulders, like a profile of a young girl, with calm features, where the personality and the strength of the spirit are revealed. Content of the young model.
It must be the whole spirit of a painter of another time like Balthus, to find time, of a lost time.
To find…
Being revealed or unconscious
The unconscious is our deep self.
Its inner being is the reflection of our soul, revealing it to bring to light the depth of its being, its gushing light or its darkness at the bottom of the abyss.
Touch the light or reveal it in a space of an eternal instant with poetic accents, where the light irradiates you and floods your field of space in a bright burst.
The unconscious revealing state puts your reach your field of consciousness at an unsuspected level, reveals your desires and your fears in their initial state of their emotions, in all its force and its original purity.
Being is revealed in its beauty by the unconscious, without calculation or premeditation of any kind.
The mirror of our soul, or the unconscious or the revealed self, is a powerful field, without notions of values, clinging to our deepest desires ...
Poetry or "the Painter of Venus"
Alain Bonnefoit like Matisse reincarnated, transports us through his nude drawings in pure poetry where words are powerless, the lines revealed in a soft harmony of colors exalt bodies and minds in innocence with soothing reflections.
The feminine subject, its mysteries, its innocence, its sensuality exacerbated without modesty with maddening curves, reveal to you, the feminine being in all its power.
Portrait of a young woman
A young woman, in her nature preserves her shyness, her being is the reflection of her pure soul.
His curiosity, his freshness, his tranquility, in the gaze of his distant thoughts, scrutinizing the landscape parading on the horizon.
The breath of his breath exhaled, an assertive look suddenly lost, then his imposing posture affirms his young character.
And in a gentle rest close your eyes in a soothing invasive sleep.
My mother tongue, French
Like a sweet nursery rhyme, you appropriate your language, your being, your identity, your own self. Language and like a little inner voice that reflects its own image.
Language sings its culture, its distinctions which make all its belonging to a spirit, the spirit of its values; in measure and in subtlety recognizable by a musical air while finesse, the French spirit.
MODIGLIANI or the sacred gaze
In this effervescent Paris where all creative minds are bubbling.
An artist who predestined himself for sculpture chose painting out of spite, he wanted to be an aristocrat of art, a romantic philosopher of Bohemia.
Seekers of the lost soul, with multiple feminist portraits. Jeanne icon with accents of purity. Eternal Muse, absolute being, dreamed ideal desire the ideal of an artist.
Blue eyes, with saving pictorial deformations, the artist's sensitivity must correct nature.
To be revealed in its primary truth, without artifices, the lost soul shines through, witness to the life of a soul, disembodied look, where painting is stronger than life.
The void takes its form in a revealed being, only the appearance of a body remains, only facing the world of the painter, the sole master of a destiny torn from the injustices of life.
Only grace, an untouchable value, has no eyes on its heart.
Love and its mysteries are the unique object of his painting. His painting is an absolute search for a love quest and seeks to unveil the mystery of love.
Death wants to seduce him while he dreams of life, unable to meet the obligations of existence.
Hubert Robert (1733-1808)
Painter of the old regime with magnificence
French flavor
Hubert Robert with a picturesque taste for nature became a member of the French Academy in Rome, French art studies on the motif and one of Robert's main subjects with one of his fellow students Fragonard who went there gladly give up.
Painters of Architecture has the sweet melancholy of ruins, true poetics, the ruin witness to the completion of all human civilizations with the keen eye of the times to come which awaits us.
Sensitive painter "La Lingère" composition in oil in the 18th spirit like Fragonard with a more pronounced taste of poetry in the shimmering colors of brown and red of Venice with decorations masterfully orchestrated in all its simplicity, the lightness of the fabrics of the beautiful linen woman, with the delicate profile, with the released neck, with the raised hair, as well as the rolled-up sleeves, one discovers there a pretty raised arm holding the sheet of the hand delicately suggested until the fingers.
Scene implemented by pretty foliage of some plant perennials arranged here and there in a clever way where we find the taste of nature in Robert as in all paintings of 18th invoices.
Hubert Robert saw the decline of the lost-time monarchy of the precious, contrasted by the violence of revolutionary terror, under the dictate of a man, Robespierre, where he was imprisoned, awaiting the agonizing edge of the guillotine and released after the after all tragic end of the man of terror.
The revolutionary vandalism by Robert's repeated evocations of ruins, translates the melancholy of the days of a time forgotten forever….
Remain the spirit of the time under his brush still alive ...
The feminine charm
Be passionate with the evanescent presence, distant gaze, with the fine silhouette emanating grace.
Undaunted, his whole being radiates romanticism.
With a delicate attitude, while femininity. Being a woman.
Resistance
Politically correct is a form of language without taste or flavor, poetry or the poet must be in ambush.
Our time under this law of insidious silence makes the era and the minds empty. The Word must be murderous just like art without any compromise of any kind.
Take the scrub ... The taste of Liberty!
Waking Up or Fear
You get a taste of life under the incessant cheek of a pistol under the temple. Time is increased tenfold, the seconds are centuries to contemplate ...
Be Yourself
"To be Wolf or to be Dog"; the imposed, modern choice of our society and a kind of slavery, faithful to the promise to be kept, feet and hands tied, mouth gagged, imprisoned.
The proud and conquering wolf in search of new territories lies in wait for its prey, it is a lord to eliminate ...
1860 Frédéric Bazille -
Source of impressionism at the gates of modern painting
Painters of the batignolles school revealed in a painting by Fantin Latour , he is a gifted friend of Renoir, Monet, Manet, in the studio on rue Furstenberg .
Street in the crossed fate of a painter of our time, Balthus where he paints the painting " La Rue " (from furstemberg ).
Manet, the leader who revolutionizes the way of painting and established codes, with the scent of the scandal, under the frock coat, E. Manet, or in the Salon we “ encourage the spirit of Revolt ”, the instigator of the famous Salon des refused.
Frédéric, a conscientious pupil from Gleyre's studio with a sure design, he plays with color with freshness and a truth in tones with light effects.
Painter with daring compositions with a fast touch and an economy of means inspired by his master Manet, whom he follows in his footsteps, whom he compares to Cimabue and Giotto for Italy in the Quattrocento.
The Spirit is peopled with hell
( or the hidden world of our uncertainties)
A person's Spirit is an unexplored world.
A world without limits or borders where reality and imagination clash.
At the gates of Heaven or hell ...
The mind is an entity in its own right that has a freedom and a truth that tests ourselves.
Our dreams like frail ships sail in the sandstone of currents and winds go far away towards the indescribable infinite.
The spirit perhaps of a lightness or loaded with an invasive weight where our spirit is peopled with hell at the gates of paradise.
Prisoner of our mind or our unconscious drifts, exploring the meanders of our contradictions and hidden truths to better extract them without our knowledge.
The spirit is conquering, independent in the assault of new territories or new borders.
The untamed human spirit is infinite and wild.
-----------------
- The Spirit is peopled with hell.
- Beauty invites to perfection.
- Art is gentle violence.
The Painter of Sentiment
Painting or drawing the feeling, that is the essence of my artistic approach, the very essence of my vision.
For me, this is the only reason and justification for all of my work.
The Truth of the Beings
The alchemy of the soul or the painter of Sentiment
A feeling is a fleeting thing of being. What distinguishes beings is their interiority or their moods.
Revealed by that elusive thing that is feeling or what one experiences internally as a result of the alchemy of being.
Communicated by speech or rather the imperceptible that we perceive in the loved one, without words or noises. He is there present in the person revealed by his presence, his natural authenticity.
This invisible thing that shows through in the interior of being, in human passions. Who escapes communication is a naked truth, pure in its state, without calculations.
I believe I am in search of this state, to reveal this indescribable truth by means which calls upon its feelings, its felt, its lived, in search of the truth of the beings.
Find the soul of a being or the purity of feelings or grasp the unfathomable, the inexpressible truth.
Imaginary
The world of my imagination or a real present reality which imposes itself on me through my drawing and my painting. This is the miracle of art or an artistic approach that imposes itself on you.
Imagination and a stronger force, more real than the presence of reality.
The precious miraculous.
Truth is in Perfection
Regarding Art, there is a truth, a truth of the work, Art lays bare the truth of the one who uses it. It is the artist and in the quest for perfection, he must shape perfection or strive for it to reach his truth.
Perfection makes it possible to approach the truth of the work or the goal to be achieved.
To reach perfection or its perception of it is to discover the truth in its accomplishment and in its purest nature of the forces which support it of feeling, of beauty, in its original strength or state.
Achieve this perfection and discover its truth, its meaning, a state of revelation, transcendence accomplished.
It is a journey that leads to the artist's truth in his quest for the absolute.
Truth and Perfection.
Beauty invites perfection
All beauty is the sign of perfection, it is its essence, its elixir, its digest, its mathematical algorithm. Beauty is the result of present accomplished perfection.
All beauty and the result of a mechanism which is the purity of a learned balance of a goldsmith's precision, of a universal law.
Beauty is a path that excludes all approximations, chance, but the result of an in-depth research, calculated, evaluated, the result of thoroughness, of a natural law.
This search is the path to perfection where we find a perfect balance. Result of eternal or universal beauty immortalized in the work of an artist or the accomplishment of his ultimate work.
With the unconscious
towards new horizons
Open your field of consciousness to unexplored fields.
The unconscious makes you travel, transport to unexplored possibilities, to one or elsewhere, other possible, to a better with yourself and others, a possible sharing.
The opportunity to achieve success, self-fulfillment.
The unconscious this misunderstood thing, this other possible rejected, hidden.
It is a source of renewal, an unsuspected engine of another balance, being at peace with one's unconscious or going towards the path of self-realization…
The beauty of women walk
like masterpieces
The woman or the female model with angelic seduction such as Italian, Raphaelian or ingresque nudes, intoxicates you with their natural beauty like a diamond of unsuspected purity, incomparable, unique, the woman's body was made by masters of goldsmiths who reason like masterpieces of great masters of classical or renaissance painting.
The masterpiece is made women or the female body rivals the genius of the artist, its creator ...
The Language of Flowers or
" Les Boréades " or Alphise and Borée
Feelings are perfumed, to the elixirs of the language of the heart, Flowers are their attributes.
In the Land of Boréades , where the heart and the Vapors of Sentiments are in competition with the recognition of its rank, of its position where there is no place for pretenders without recognition ; or without strength by his position or without the people's respect for acquired goods and values ?? Are a prerequisite for his condition as a man.
The colorful and perfumed language which speaks to the instances of the heart of the loved one. It is a language with accents imprint of purity far from the intransigent laws of the unjust, ferocious, cruel and cowardly Boréades .
The Truth of sentient beings
A passionate being is pure, like an angel in his kingdom of dazzling whiteness.
Where light reigns, it lightens being without truths or lies.
Truth is transparent like a perfect crystal where no one shadows where impurity would lodge there.
The female being
Attentive, sensitive, under an appearance of assumed fragility, is a being with a soft appearance or the soul breathes the tenderness and generosity of the heart.
Sweet Women or
the triumphant hair
The beauty of a woman and a hair is in the Feminine.
The tangles, the styling, the learned hairstyles compete with the splendid and magnificent horse manes.
The wild hairstyle with a thousand curls or orderly folds, structuring this triumphant trophy to the glory of the female masterpiece.
Distinguished attributes like a feline in her bright dress.
Objects so coveted by artists for the production of a work imbued with poetry, harmony, dreamy beauty all Balthusian .
French luxury
The refinement is French in its language, in the art of hospitality, in the major brands of haute couture and perfumery, its musical arts, its great masters of painting and even in the fields of science.
French taste is courted, sought-after all over the world, an indelible imprint of our spirit and our culture.
In the great upheaval of globalization where everything tends to become uniform without taste, taste or distinction ...
French identity is a trademark in itself like Paris, the capital of romanticism and love sung by our poets ...
Paris in the Era of the 21st century is the capital of " cop 21 " may be our last salvation in the world.
The empty idol mirror
The despair of spirits or their poverty or ill-being are in search of idols who would fill their void or lack, fill their accessible ideal ready to consume.
Today's society with mirrors of idols and a fleeting decoy with light, indigent and poor spirits. Our modern society where the interiority of beings is diminished impoverished where knowledge has no equal to an incalculable void.
The culture that is the object of our national heritage and a facade where only a few adventurous spirits go astray, the economy of work or our model of life of the immediacy of ready-to-consume in an emergency or a short time, where we must live in the snapshot, we empty our wealth.
Time, the time found must be our ally, must stand still stop for a richer search, a time deepened in the acquisition of knowledge whose culmination of our identity is alone at this price.
Creation and genius
The geniuses of the first centuries, to those modern painting competing between Van Dyck, Michel Ange, Léonard de Vinci, Raphaël, Titian, Rubens, Poussin, Ingres, Delacroix, Picasso, Matisse still reason through the centuries by a dazzling list of achievements of creators touched by grace and beauty.
No one can compete with as much impertinence as these geniuses of creation, rivaling the miracles of a single creator, of a universal, divine order ...
Mr. D or the painting resurfaces
or Degas dance Drawing
Fervent admirer Paul Valery has the project of writing about Edgar Degas, but thinks that he will not see it with a good eye, gives up.
Then he wrote to focus on the question of creativity and genius. And writes on " introduction to the Leonardo da Vinci method " and " The Evening with Mr. Test ".
Paul Valery on his writing on Degas aims to understand the challenges of a life of creation. His work is kaleidoscopic and surprising, with reflections on creation, anecdotes, memories ; like those of Berthe Morisot…
The work is a movement on sensations and feelings, always guided by his reflection on creation with heart and less with spirit, and shows evidence of one of those who knew the artist.
Everything is drawing at Degas, up to sculpture, because it is its essence, the Line.
The thought of Valery like the drawing of Degas where everything is questioning of this post-revolutionary century where the line is shifting like modernity abandons certainties.
Degas revolutionizes his art and seeks something else, no longer conceiving a masterpiece as the outcome of a process.
But rather in the making of variations. In the idea of ?? A process of repeating patterns, of observations.
And the drawing is a vector of speed of execution for the artist, who particularly interests him.
Degas is at a crossroads is rocked between the 19th century and the 20th century the circle of the impressionists where another modernity is born.
The avant-garde meet where the Young Picasso admires Degas and First buyer ...
Dream of a young girl
The sweet dream to take away the young girl is sacred.
Like an angel in paradise where his chimerical world is unreachable, where only a pure immaculate universe resides in the image of paradise where only the all-powerful creator rubs shoulders.
Do not give in to mediocrity always go ahead
Life is a path where you have to find your way, and choose forcibly the bifurcations that lead to self-realization, for a better one, to prove one's aptitudes and the means to achieve oneself.
The mind can be stronger than the paths of destiny which can confuse you with your ideal, your self-worth, your individuality, self.
Do not allow yourself to be mediocre, which you are forced to do, but shed light on your path towards possible elsewhere, its territory to conquer, on an equal footing, with its fields of its ideals and reasoning and intellectual capacities developed, internalized in itself, whose value awaited its revealed fulfillment.
Nude or curves or artistic desire
The nude or drawing of the living is an arduous discipline where chance is not advised.
The nude requires listening to yourself and the model. Your pencil suggests your ideal, your sensitivity, your emotions or the line transcribes what our mind synthesizes, perceives with an emotion line.
Then the successive curves which we evaluate, measure the intensity ; the rendering suggests to you such observation of a landscape on the motive the perfect agreement to put in place to seduce or surprise yourself or your audience and fervent admirers.
The Sentiment of Words
The color of the words, evocative power, the poetic drift of the words, transports us to the shores of an unexplored world.
The drift of words abandoned offshore is a call to moods where deep exacerbated feelings mingle that resonate with poetic scrolls.
The language of words has the feeling of the heart where reason escapes the waves to the soul, running adrift of feelings.
Butterfly Effect
Fly in the sandstone of the wind.
With its whitish wings, fly in the blue of the sky.
Be a butterfly and fly towards the thread of a promising destiny, a destiny to win back somewhere else.
Endless battle was constantly in search of your ideal.
The color or
the poetry of the senses
The poetics of colors is a sensory language of a chimerical world, with cottony skies in pastel colors.
The poetic sense of sensitive and light harmonies lifts you in a dream world, a poetic ideal where the imagination is king where everything is impressions, emotions.
The Dream of Ossian, Poem or
the painted work by Ingres
Ingres's work is of rare poetry, illustrating the battles and loves of the 3rd century Scottish bard
Where a staging of the hero and his wife, his son, his entwined bride, surrounded by angels and valiant soldiers carried in a ghostly cloud.
In the foreground the Ossian bard is seated, leaning on his harp and dreaming.
The Absolute of Romanticism by Girodet or
" Atala at the tomb " - 1808
Canvas where romantic vibrating eroticism is an icon.
The exhibition of the painting in the Salon 1814 rekindles the passions where sentimentalism is the hallmark of these times ...
And represents the very expression of romanticism Girodet with a melancholic sensitivity has imposed itself after the workshop of David as the painter of tormented loves breathes a new poetry.
The beautiful romantic Atala dies in the arms of her beloved Chactas .
The reason is that they decided to unite in marriage, when Atala remembered the promise made to her mother to remain a virgin and Christian and choose suicide and thus escape her passion.
The silence of meditation in the painting around the slender body wrapped in a virgin shroud and the ultimate passionate embrace which accompanies the beloved figure towards the grave, the contained and yet so perceptible pain of the lover is the erected representation of the glory of the nascent romanticism.
Be Pure Poetic
The feminine being is all poetry.
Feminine sensibility is pure poetry.
The attitude, the gesture of the hair, the lost profile of a young woman with hair falling on the shoulders are pure poetry.
Feminine dream
The desire of a pretty woman with a charming smile enchants you, transports you to another place, a dreamed ideal, with the charm of the delicacy of the captivating scents with nectar of the intoxicating attractions of the female being and its voluptuous splendors, with idealized curves. Who reasons with the charms of love.
Woman be of passions with a generous heart.
Sweet love
To my dear tender love.
My beauty of the day, enchantress of my life.
Dear Love, my Tender Love, my dear Lover with an enchanting Look full of touching Mischievousness, dear Love.
Treasure, my muse of my dreams, with infinite desires, my beautiful lover, my tender love.
My beautiful, oh love, tender love, the woman of my life.
The garden of your love
My lover, I would like to win your love
The purity of your feelings, I would like to cultivate them in your secret garden, to be the modest gardener of your love, to maintain the rose of your heart.
May it flourish in a red color like love with the subtle scents of a sought-after fragrance that enhances the scents of happiness.
I would like to conquer the path of your love.
And love you, and share the fruit of your love, be the attentive gardener of your heart, my love.
The Eye of Destiny
A singing journey like Monsieur Trenet Charles, who is close to success.
Destiny awaits you to surprise you, to offer you opportunities, meetings that reveal and change you.
The pupa will one day become a butterfly to fly from flower to flower.
Make your life a journey of self to conquer success, a possibility to achieve.
Envy in the spirit of your being
Being and spirit, the inexplicable love of beings attracted like stars from a summer sky.
The spirit of your elusive being, free and light as a butterfly wing.
The essence of your charming, joyful and benevolent spirit.
My love for you growing day by day.
Love, you radiate in my heart like a sun.
What is love ?
You oh love, pure soul with elusive beauty with a thousand facets, you shine and light dazzling fires of your high values ??Are equal to universal ideals.
Literature
Literature is Voluptuousness and Sensuality, a snub to the inevitable ...
An ode to life, to desire, to love.
Sweet love, sweet love
My heart wanders that love is sweet.
The sweetness of feelings with loving gestures, everything is desire and expectation.
Time is our Pygmalion who knows how to bite us at the moment so longed for, dreamed of .
The colorful poetry love with unexpected flavors or the intensity of love culminates in the intention of the loved one, courted, adored, is revealed.
Love is a revelation of the other, of oneself, of shared or hoped-for desire.
Love reveals desire, the sweetness of feelings, of the voluptuousness of beings, of passions.
Geneva the seductive hidden in the golden shores
The sumptuous can be discovered according to her moods, you Genevan.
And you, my beloved, we walk in the chic neighborhoods or we marvel.
In your eyes, I escape and travel towards enchanting horizons.
My beloved in the center café, on our table with a Geneva white fabric, we revel.
Your laughing eyes and smile light up my heart.
You are my enchanted princess, your heart and your eyes are a thousand blue suns.
Your thoughts, your spirit accompany me to an enchanting country.
The newlyweds of year II or my love
Charlotte's passionate loves that alternate between jubilation and passions
unfulfilled are the romanticism spicy love passions to the French spirit.
Dear love and tender beloved, I love you madly like his adventures full of charms
and sentimentality where love is king.
I love you my dear
My Passion Drawing
The art of drawing the living model elevates us everything becomes poetry, matter of wonder.
The art of the nude is an art culminating in the search for perfection and poetry.
Time Travelers
To future journeys in the universe, to distant unknowns beyond futuristic and avant-garde human sciences towards the impossible, the unimaginable, towards an endless world, beyond known borders.
Like Agostinelli and Proust travelers of their time.
Or Agostinelli wants to cross the sleeve aboard a cuckoo called the Swann.
Where Agostinelli left did not return or Proust had the remorse of his life, to have advantageously financed his valet and friend of the heart towards death.
Proust at his expense had the body repatriated to the ground for the repose of his soul.
His beings of passions and hearts are our travelers from a time past and forgotten by our future avant-garde in the information age without souls, where logic and synthetic intelligence are the announced future of humanity…
The loved one
The loved one is a light in the shade.
This light accompanies you, guides you on a path that illuminates you, towards a better, an ideal.
Love grows for you.
My love, your smile and your moments of joy shine in my heart which beats for you my love.
On the edge of the abyss
Light festivals in Lyon
The metro becomes Hell, the innumerable crowd.
The weather becomes narrow, in pursuit of a train departure to arrive on time, the obstacles are linked.
You are manhandled, put your nerves to the test, on the tightrope. It's the race, arriving just in time on the station platform, arriving just at the right time, in time.
This train quickly becomes crowded, the atmosphere is oppressive, people are in a hurry, they are clumping, they are just getting excited in search of a viable space.
Then, it is the anguish which goes up not knowing why, while awaiting a calming, a moment of calm after all this tumult. You close your eyes in search, of a soothing calm, all this mixture, upsets then gradually serenity peaks, to gradually regain confidence, regain consciousness. People are more peaceful, calm gradually settles towards serenity, finally ...
Me, found ...
Love found or
in search of the loved one
My love, I found you and hoped for so much.
You are my horizon, my light, my hope.
I love you sincerely, with a deep love.
You knew how to find me, tame me, thank you for that.
Your mind, your being, your eyes all please me.
Without you, I'm incomplete.
You are my longed for love.
To you my darling love
Philippe
Being and Nothingness
One day I am.
Life is like this, we are discovering ourselves and the world.
The discovery is endless, our world is a universe full of surprise, and novelty, it is endless.
Our thirst for learning is infinite just like life.
This life that one appropriates, guesses, discovers and rediscovers.
What was there before our world, the Void ?
What about after us, the Void ?
Being and nothingness, that is our questioning, it is endless.
Just like our universe.
The Quantum Spirit
in contrast to the " conscience, " called " quantum "
What is the quantum mind ? Who wrecks quantum physics in my mind.
What is quantum physics ?
It escapes our Cartesian reason, even Albert Einstein, a great physicist, did not want to resolve it !
Quantum physics is surprising multiple, one of a kind, confused and logical at the same time as if " one " is only " one " was not enough, various, and has the gift of ubiquity or omnipresence.
So the quantum mind would be a supernatural being, an infinite, diverse mind, both here and void by and everywhere, incomprehensible to our human and instinctive mind.
Would it be inhuman, superhuman, immeasurable, an infinitely multiplied logic, humanly inconceivable.
Is it our distant future ? For the fulfillment and development of our humanity ?
Love and Desolation
- You, dear and tender.
- To be loved, the arid and desolate lands are emerging at the end of the day.
- No tumult, no orchestrated disorder, but a deafening silence filled with complaints.
- Alone in the face of disorder, the only survivor of a flood of calamities near the abyss.
- Can I survive this flood that invades me, I try to catch a glimpse of the light?
- The terrible unhappiness overwhelms me, tears me apart, what to do ...
Spleen and Poetry
Illness invades me, surprises me, seizes me on the infinite instant, on the expanse of an ocean.
Could I get rid of them that tear flesh and soul?
The soul drifts, gets lost, drags on and never ends.
The curse pursues you relentlessly and becomes one body.
This sensation radiates you with all fire, burns your soul.
The instant black
In your shadow, on the edge of reality.
Time catches up with us, invaded by nothingness which overwhelms our adrift.
Lightning flashes to strike you in your slow drift, towards misty and deserted places.
Raises and haunts you, violent and sudden like a fallen angel.
Draws you towards the abysses of the depths of darkness to engulf you there in the space of an eternal and terrible instant.
Suddenly, coming out of the torpor, from a heavy sleep, awake, time stops.
Everything moves around you, immobilized, helpless actors, mortified, petrified forever.
Life unfolds like a veil obscured by the shadow.
Caught in a black dream on the edge of hell.
Out of darkness, you fail groggy.
An ideal meeting
At the bend of the path, of a short trip, a chance meeting can seduce you.
Meeting a being who is intellectually equal to yourself is attractive, unexpected, simple and pleasant.
Along the journey, hand in hand with a philosophy of life from one of the successful authors recognized for his Zen philosophical thoughts, she traverses this relaxed, curious one.
After a short sleep break, she grabs a notebook, then the pencil quickly and quickly sweeps the surface of the notebook paper. Fine writing, small, dense, the notebook without lines, the words scroll quickly to fill the page then the back, in an unexpected pleasure, gluttony.
After lying down on paper, the articulation of his shooting thought and quite happy to have accomplished his task, closes his notebook, with relief and undisguised pleasure.
We then exchanged a few quick words to discover his passions and the writing we share as well as the drawing.
Delighted to have approached a curious and brilliant spirit, of a pleasant simplicity, quick to exchange.
Love
- We love our loved one.
- A desirable being adored.
- You if desired and loved.
- You make our heads spin.
- Your laughter and your anger are a thousand emotions.
- Our desires and our fears are our Pygmalion
- Time weaves our history.
- I dream of an ideal, of love and sharing.
- You, women, be gentle and passionate, I hope your well-being.
- Love is a battle, a victory to conquer.
Life
One sad day, without the sun, the landscape, the trees pass by.
The train runs on the thread of life.
Suddenly a ray of sunshine dawns.
What to say about this sad life?
Love and hope at will.
What gnaws my soul, in the woes of life?
One day perhaps there will be appeasement.
Our life like a dented path will one day find its Elysian fields.
I love you
I love you.
You are more beautiful than a flower.
You are the Rose of my heart.
The Mystery of the Female Being
Pretty women with feminine forms are of all graces.
The hair falling on the shoulders which reveals a pretty face, the elegant bust, pretty hands with tapered fingers to the tips of the nails.
Grace is feminine, mysterious, sweet.
The feminine attitude marked by lightness, charms, an attractive candor inspiring the confidence of the loved one.
Art and Life
Live your life, the demands of life.
Life to its tumult and priorities, leaves nothing to chance, so goes life.
Meeting with an artist who also faced the demands of life, the world of work.
Flourished in his art, no worries show through.
The desire is there, sharing and simplicity, of a demanding, perfect, impeccable art ...
Available for his art, art for his life, art one of his priorities.
The radiant look, accessible to his world, has the desire, the desire for a radiant art.
I would like to find his way, towards an accomplishment, a discovery, assertiveness.
Art makes you want…
Dream of you
Your smile enchants me, your seductive eyes invade me, I dream of you ...
Your skin softness, like a fragrant flower, exalts passion and love.
Your feminine lines with delicious curves intoxicate me, revealed my passionate imagination, a sentimental dream, a dreamlike desire.
I dream of you, my love.
Gérard GAROUSTE or the Painting found
Painting is a language, a thought, an enigma and its keys to decipher.
Gérard Garouste plays with madness to decipher his own puzzles.
His painting full of code therefore the family, religion, his fears, his family secrets, Freudian psychology, his psyche, his anxieties, his personal history ...
The time of childhood,
memory or present time
Childhood is a wonderful and happy period that we want to have immortal and that we live with adolescence.
This privileged time, this carefree time, its timeless precious moments, we can relive them with our own children or nephews or nieces who remind us of this joyful time, this time of freedom, this time of discovery of things and world that one should not have left.
Live the time of vacation, travel, family.
Angel or demon
The soft sky under its protective angels is attractive. The wings push you like Icarus to get closer to the Zenith to see bliss.
Icarus had an unenviable fate in getting too close to the sun, gray with altitude.
The man and the woman two beings to love, understand, support each other are identical in their desires to congratulate her.
The demon can arise, reveal itself, appear under attractive features, monopolize you, devour you.
We can be surprised to rub shoulders with the devil who slyly surfaces to better tame you and be in his grip, at his mercy, under his wing waiting for the end.
The cursed lovers
or the magnificent lovers
Like Modigliani and Jeanne Hébuterne who dreamed of an accomplished life, of a couple, misfortune had caught up with them.
Impetuous, determined, running after a dream, a chimera, overwhelmed, out of control, no longer in control of her actions, fleeing from reality, life, overwhelmed by her emotions, her thoughts, she goes adrift like a raw river, not knowing which direction to go.
Life catches up with you, with its contradictions, its illusions like a theater or life or the characters would only be a play of shadows and lights.
The Impossibility of the Heart
Impossible love, forbidden love.
The heart for reasons that ignore the feelings.
The eyes of love are blind, do not see what the heart or reason imagines.
Love is powerless to find the way of reason, only ardent passions are present.
Or the curse of the heart of lovers.
The Garden of Unhappiness
My love, my friend, what have you done?
To the pleasure of life come the arid paths, desolate and inhospitable places.
The paradises so longed for are ferments of hatred and jealousy, of lies, what have you done?
You, my love, my garden of abundance where fruits are loved, what have you done?
Pleasure is accompanied by a litany of displeasure.
A paradise for hell, what have you done?
The hoped-for angels are potentially the forces of displeasure and hatred and misunderstanding.
You and your only liver to desire, devour, swallow the mountains of the horizons of love, happiness, the pleasure of being two, what have you done?
The imaginary traveler
On new horizons, curiosity is heightened, fears and desires are mixed.
The carefree traveler, unprepared for the unexpected and the inconvenience, is quickly disoriented, chosen victim, designated in advance.
Misfortune never happens alone, it is a heap, a continuous continuation.
Despite your efforts in the face of adversity, the loved one and pampered by you, is annoyed, edgy, indisposed, quick to revenge.
Perhaps the object of your misfortune, your misfortune.
Your friend from the very first days, through the torments and vicissitudes of life, can decide to be the instrument of your Way of the Cross.
In these inhospitable heavens, sent to purgatory, chosen victim, at the mercy of adversity.
Lucky people are very happy, life has pampered them.
The Intoxication of Pleasures
Joy and love, the hope of sentient beings.
Life triumphs over misfortune, the source of happiness flows to who knows how to discover it, imagine it.
The mind is stronger than life. Uproar and fury fade away from the will of the mind.
The mind is a borderless, infinite, limitless, indomitable horizon.
Life is intoxication with pleasures.
The Language of Flowers,
At Cocteau's Stars
The poetics of flowers, with scented colors and scents enchant you, the desire to dream.
Flowers are words, with poetic overtones where their flowery languages ?? Call for love, grace and the desire for beauty.
Everything is marvelous to those who know how to look, to discover.
The world is a thousand-faceted enchantment like the bright stars of a summer night sky, the poetic stars of Cocteau.
Women
Woman, who are you ?
The ingenious Natalie Wood with a devastating look and body.
You are desirable and attractive like a shooting star in the starry night.
You are gentleness or all fire and flame, nothing can resist you, clinging to your desires and your dreams.
You dear woman with an unpredictable character like a sleeping volcano ready to fury under burning fires.
Women with a thousand faces you are one and multiple.
Woman love guides and nourishes you.
You devour life and men with passion.
Envy overwhelms you attracted by a protective angel who will fulfill your thousand hopes and dreams.
The desire to be a woman.
The Poetics of Beauty
To go towards beauty is to go to poetry.
Only the path of poetry guides you to grace, beauty and the love of life's despair.
A being of passion is all poetry.
Pure poetry is a state of grace.
Only beauty and art put you in a state of consciousness that is poetry.
Each being aspires to the beautiful, only poetry will lead you to this path of grace and appeasement.
The origins of painting
or Pieter Bruegel the Elder
Painters in the old Netherlands and sailed between Antwerp as a master, for a long time, and subsequently worked in Brussels where he settled permanently in 1563.
Pieter Bruegel the Elder is celebrated from Antwerp to Brussels, his radiant work, pillar of the Flemish heritage, still alive today.
Masterpieces including Dull Griet (“ Margot the mad ” also known as “ Margot the enraged ”) very singular painting, whose genre is a rarity for its time and one of the most fascinating works of the northern renaissance .
" The fall of the rebel angels " significant work that marks the spirits between angels, the great dragon, the ancient serpent called the devil and Satan, a real apocalyptic battle " Woe to you, because the devil came down to you with great anger knowing that he has little time left… ”
And so a great Saint-Michel with a slender, disjointed body, leads the celestial legions against the satanic dragon who converted part of the angels and decided to rebel against God.
" The consolidation of Bethlehem " refers to a passage from the Gospel of Saint Luke, the view of the painting dominating the whole landscape by its height is part of the tradition of " World Landscape " or " Cosmic Landscape " which is the brand of the Flemish style from the beginning of the century.
" Winter landscape with skaters and birds hatch " major work from a particularly cold period of 1565-1567 within what is customary to call the " little ice age, " the memorable winters allowed, '' install a pictorial genre favored by Flemish and Dutch painters from the second half of the 16th century.
For Bruegel, this state of affairs confronting the population with the rigor of time dominated by nature towards these demands on the human condition and other enigmas whose trap for the birds giving the name to the painting is unexplained as to the message or meanings faced with the rigors of winter which does not alter the men in their daily lives.
“ Flemish proverbs ” is one of the most popular works since its return to grace in the 20th century. Work comprising a profusion of tasty characters with comical details that inevitably compromise the unity of the composition.
" The Tower of Babel, " Bruegel the Elder returned several times to the theme of the Tower of Babel. His representations of the insolent biblical edifice, which is undoubtedly one of the most fascinating subjects of his work.
" Harvest, " to consider only summer and the crucial time of mowing, this table shows harvesters who have stopped working to eat and rest in the shade of a small tree. The harvest is first remarkable for its entirely secular nature. The subject is nature or more exactly the almost symbiotic relationship, punctuated by the great calendar phases, of humanity and of a majestic nature which shelters it, nourishes it, contains it.
The artist tends to free himself from the fantastic stereotypes characteristic of the initiators of the landscape in the Ancient Netherlands to reach a form of naturalist poetry of perhaps unprecedented intensity, from classical literature and the georgics of Virgil. The articulation of the undulating golden mass of wheat interrupted by a green landscape, which extends, in an admirable haze of summer heat, to a coastline from which a few boats spring up constitutes a source of perpetual wonder.
The Rose or the love of women
Yes, you are loved, we are wooing you.
Hoping to gain your interest.
Your eyes and your smile attract us, ready to seduce you.
Everything remains to be done, to win your heart.
A word from you and the world is shining.
One day your eyes are full of wonder, another day everything is sad.
You sensitive like a flower, we pick the roses of happiness, to find the love of our life.
A soul in pain
Everything is joyful when everything shines.
Love, the balm of happiness for souls in pain.
Heart drifting, you wander in pain.
Blinded by your desires, your inexhaustible desires.
You are struggling to gain a possible desirable, the ideal being, without notable imperfections.
Happiness is good.
Love
Intangible, odorless and fragrant from the heart. Rose or Jasmine.
Without priceless value to who knows how to win hearts.
Happiness or misfortune without notions of values, with lucky hearts.
Eternal Quest, Loving Beings
Ecology, our dear EARTH, “ A Crime ” or
the Assassin Man and nature…
- Man a utopia of nature…
- This Earth, our Earth, Blue Planet oasis of our starry universe.
- The man or the end…
- Man or the suicide of life, of our world.
- Honest , criminal man or sincerity .
- Man or genocide or unreasonable madness or intellectual genocide or the revisionism of the crime of nature or the tragedy announced, of our murdered nourishing land…
- Nazism, the crime of humanity, man or the crime of nature, the living, the animal world, our vacillating humanity or the end of the world, the end of our world…
- Poor men, poor humanity who will win everything to lose everything to win everything, and lose to life ...
The tumult
- Caught in the storm, the elements are unleashed around you.
- Your mind wanders, floats in the elements. Carried away by a destructive wave,
You resist this pervasive outburst.
- But no tumult can divert you from your deep being.
- You are there, on a frail skiff tossed about on all sides, nothing can reach you.
- You resist, like an impregnable, inviolate citadel ...
Out of frame - In search of oneself…
Get rid of reality or its attachments, material or immaterial, moral, or social ...
Or the reason for being rid of all conscience.
Could it be an ideal, perfect place, a paradise free from all constraints ?
Or does it take to be forged, to be a constructed being ? Subject to coercion, intellectual freedom would be acquired in a closed, dictatorial process like a human society with its happy tragedies and rebirths confronted with misfortune and suffering ...
What is love ?
Love is an act of compassion, of self-giving, towards others, an altruistic act, in the idea of ?? Accomplished religions.
The man can have another direction of it this more phantasmagoric or biological, but, however, not without initial sense of acts of gifts or sharing or merges when it is a question of human passions.
The world is kneaded with this matter of cohesion or sweet or violent betrayal thus man and its contradictions have been made since the dawn of time since man is man. It is its tragic part or that of shared happiness.
The act of love is human that we also share with animals in a less instinctive way by the laws of naturalness.
Love, we have made it a philosophy, literature, is it an invention of man ?
Is there this thing we call Love ?
Man has made it a religion, a dogma.
Man in the betrays this thing ? The has he perverted forever ?
Before Adam and Eve ? A love story…
The right to happiness
Are we all entitled to happiness or to its virtues that a thousand riches could not acquire by the fact of money?
This inconsistent one would overtake us and we would misunderstand its value after it would no longer function, by default.
It is then that it would take on its full value, its perception will be felt furtive, elusive, without contractual acquisition, non-negotiable, immaterial, unpredictable.
This thing so much desired, satisfied with fury, irresistible envy.
So as happiness knows how to wait and give its benefits, to who knows how to deserve it, desire it, initiate it towards others and inevitably or finality towards you ...
Fruit of a long matured orchard…
The sex of the angels or do the angels have sex
Things of the mind have no sex even if it came out of a male or female brain.
The angel to be neutral in the accepted color is of a virginal spotted white in the popular accepted spirit.
However should we think that the angels have sex and would have de facto a particular sensitivity and particular gifts? That the man or the woman could intrinsically admit a rank of holiness in spite of their faults and differences by taking into account the sex.
Or in absolute terms, a saint in holiness would be obsequious by nature and thus lose their statue of men or women, the criterion not being determining.
The Christian religion does not accept what is of the order of sex, or takes refuge in ignorance, or the refusal of this state, while considering as the act of procreating a child, " The Child of Jesus " as a divine posture…
All this would then be the order or the business of the divine.
The effect of man would not be determining creation is the domain of the heavens, of the divine creator without him man would not be and even to justify the place of man he would be in the mysteries of God, he alone judge of his creature, Man or Woman…
Angels would be excluded from it, their imperfect nature would not be called into question, being par excellence the servants of the divine eternally, the business of sex here no longer being in the world of the living and their subjugation to it, doing more function, or work of biological utilities of a living species.
Thus raised in the spheres of the divine protector ...
Women
Your sweetness characterizes you, you have the intelligence of the heart.
Being in complicity, a sensitive fragility, you are looking for the man who will love you, understand you.
Your instinct guides you, waiting, ready to receive, your sensitive emotional complicity is of real human wealth, you are a woman…
Women to be sharing, you love dearly.
Françoise Blanc Dupasquier
Woman painter
Exceptional artists, attentive teacher, I have your happy memory.
Your works, an ode to life, follow you, fortunately, they are there, you who are no longer there, I feared this dreadful moment, hoped it was not ...
Up to the sublime
The beauty of life is poetic.
The real escapes us and emerges a poetic vision to who knows how to look. It is a light sensation which, on the other hand, stands out from the harshness, the violence of reality, its immediacy.
Only the human mind goes further than the real.
Poetry is our share of innocence, our share of childhood rediscovered.
The simple things in life reconcile us with us, our sensitive being, the poetic gaze and our dear moment, our unknown part, of innocence to be tamed, double our mirror.
The poetic instant and this part of humanity that we all have in ourselves, we are from all horizons, man or woman combined, without distinction.
Poetry is a common language without borders. Art is its jewel.
Poetry is a sublimated sense of being which confines to the divine, to the purity of the senses, an elevation of being and of spirit.
Beauty is in us, in all things, the poetic horizons are revealed to us, they have the color of our rediscovered innocence, with intense gouache blues by Dufy.
Poetry and beauty are at the sublime of life.
The inner enemy
Man, our societies, humanity is complex, filled with paradoxes with the positive side, which reconciles with our humanity, ourselves and its harmful, ever-destructive drifts.
In troubled times past, occupied by invaders, declared enemies, victor of the moment, reigns supreme over Europe and minds, deadly ideology, with its crimes of all kinds ...
We even reached by contagious ideas and reigning power, had our inner enemy more insidious still, more contagious and nauseating than our occupier of the time, totalitarian with the badge of death.
This internal enemy also comes from us for the most part in the country, except for being hated by those who joined the resistance or its maquis…
Today, the internal enemy is there in various forms and political, economic or global powers ...
Humanity does not assume its deadly share for itself, and its world.
There is an incessant battle of opposing forces, positive and negative part of our humanity, the abyss is even more dizzying for its ravages still for our humanity.
The internal enemy is close to us and in ourselves contaminated. Society is delivered to its strengths, economic and political, disguises society, incessant combat between beings where everyone seeks their share of protection ...
A woman to love
The softness of her hair, her innocence, her tranquility, her loving look.
A being to love tenderly, passionately.
The woman is attentive, sensitive, generous with her passions and desires.
Woman be of love.
Ecology ? Or life or man taken madly,
overpowered , sees it without return ... and us ?
Cradle of humanity, living beings, plants and animals, our equal in life rights…
The super-predator man, at the height of civilizations, out of control, without any limit, no ... Unreasonable for life ...
Century at the edge of a “ new era ”, supra-technological and that of programmed total destruction, without return, neither for humanity nor for our world with irreversible annihilation for the diversity of life, this without any measure, none ... Unpublished in the history of our planet ... ???
Nature will take revenge !!! Human reason has crossed the red line or human reason which panics, the next future is mortal ... for us ... and life ...
Man alone will be the only species to have programmed total annihilation, global warming being a tiny, irreversible dramatic consequence of man's actions ... and he alone is the only fatal culprit ...
The annihilation of all forms of life, total on Earth, this in a frenzied mad rhythm, blinded by our egocentrism, our individualism, our thinking with rationalist tastes, unreasonable for what must be essential, life ...
Nature, life becomes a good, a possible commodity negotiable at a high price or the planned murder, total genocide of life on Earth, of our planet, of our heritage of life ?
Humanity, life on credit, with short-term financial aims or the paradox, life in the short term, with exponential unreasonable profits, man or unreasonable unreason, death on credit, the end of a lush world of diversity, beauty and life.
Ugliness, deadly blind financial power, curses, death is the evils of our humanity ending in decadent reason with crazy financial aims and of all irresistible powers without limits ... None ...
A burst of man, of humanity, of consciousness ??? Quickly…
The part of the dream or the genius of the artist
The dream, genius of artists, painters, Balthus, Dufy and many others, Matisse…
Have their share of dreams.
The pastel colors of Balthus illustrate a still life or a landscape, with casein, the artist's favorite medium, in evanescent soft colors, which irradiate the colors in a light complex multiple gradient, which gently accompanies you towards this reverie between visions spooky and reality, like a light breath of a breeze at the seaside.
Time stands still there, immortalized, timeless, a window open to other horizons, to infinity, the distant, vast stranger immersed there, alone in this sweet reverie, you abandoned yourself.
Like the spirit of the work put in place, in a subtle and very elaborate composition by Balthus, a new world opens up to you ...
A sensitive perception of the play of colors is implemented, the dream is there, the genius of the artist does his work, everything is said ...
Dream poetry
A kaleidoscope of colors, with poetic reveries, enchants you, the sweetness of the soul, of the poet transports you.
Starry evening light, with a thousand facets, shines on the horizon.
The night accompanies you, dresses you in its enveloping softness.
The poet's reverie, colorful and sensitive, is a star that lights up in the sky.
The poet's star in the heavens radiates hotly.
She is there, benevolent and warm, good spirit, like a fairy of wonders.
Such is the soul of the poet, in the azure blue of the starry sky.
Or his spirit travels at the whim of the dawn all up there, with vast golden horizons, where only the free spirits of beauties in the search, of a found innocence, poetry and dreams roam.
The dreamed, unsuspected world of pure souls, or the soul of the poet.
The day after....
Life at all costs ...
One day from another world, life stops on the clock ...
The announced end when everything stopped suddenly.
The new time has arrived, death is on the prowl, lurking sneakily, you don't know where, invisible enemy…
The most fragile or those exposed are struck by a mysterious lightning agony, a terrible evil, a curse announced, our civilization is deadly, struck down like the colossus of Rhodes with clay feet, broken, our societies are hit very hard …
End of civilizations with unrestrained globalized tense flows, blind ..., struck down by fatality with plagues with deathly deaf noises, men ... With futile vanities, it is a warning of destiny, of the ancient disappeared ...
Or will come a new day that will succeed the next day ... devastation, desolation of our lives, terrible death ...
And after what? One day of our lives hanging there, covered in straw… fragile.
To the strange dream, returned alive from a supernatural world, from beyond, where men are only shadows in the sinister darkness.
There apparently looking dead among the dead, on the other side of the world of men, no one speaks, they wander there ... There the fear in the belly among his family may have disappeared from the living, here with them, haggard, or the words are helpless, a silence from elsewhere, from another world, where words no longer mean anything ... emptied, destroyed.
The deadly silence, black dream, or the suffering humanity, terrified, the cry of the men swept away, swept away by the waves, the distant darkness, my dying soul, deaf from the shrill screams of immense recumbent and dying populations, haunting you, you tyrannized, lurking there, helpless, in the midst of the sinister black nightmare ...
Come back from the dead, breathless.
The preciousness of the time of the marquises or the time of the precious, Madame de La Pommeraye, Monsieur le Marquis des Arcis and Mademoiselle…
This fabulous 18th century for its taste and language.
This time wigs, powders, and silk stockings from the gentlemen or Rousseau and to the revolutionaries, enlightened minds of those times of lights or our thinkers of our modernity.
The French spirit of enlightenment, or the soul elevated to the sublime of the beauty of the time lost to our cold modernity is wild.
Taste for letters, music, opera, innovative human ideas, all done from this forgotten era, a time in the past, with the refined subtleties of the spirits of seductive adventurers experienced in all pleasures such as Casanova and Don Giovanni of the extravagant divine extravagant Mozart.
The Marquis : " The sun is so tender ... Taste the friendship ... "
La Marquise to her friend : " Opulence invites sin ... "
" Love is an offense to those who lack it ... "
La Marquise to her friend : " Because of my happiness, I do not want to hide from my soul the misfortunes that torment our world ... "
La Marquise au Marqui s : " Have you ever observed that love grows when the object of our wishes escapes us ? "
The Marquis : " I don't care about all those souls who are born to die well ... "
La Marquise to her friend : " I see in me only the feminine gender and in him the masculine gender ... "
La Marquise to her friend : " Open, my friend's eyes, to mankind, only pain can help the mind to recover from its mistakes ... Yes, I want to enlighten its mind ..."
La Marquise au Marqui s : "One must always love too much than the other not enough ... Nature does not like equality, it likes to bother us, one must always love more, the other like less in all subjects and all subjects ... even that of pleasure. "
The Marquis : " I do not know what I will say, I do not know what I will do, but you have everything to fear in the state of violence in which I am ... "
The Marquis : "Why me? No, see you cheating? The philosophy of all his libertines ... It would make man happier ...
Well, yes, pleasure, the quest for pleasure and the source of all our torments, libertines are children, who seek immediate satisfaction, less for an instant of pleasure, how many tears and cries… ”
The Marquise : "Eternally inconsistent, right? Eternally sad, eternally lost by desire… ”
Madame de Joncquières : "If the search for the sublime were a passion, what should we fight? "
Le Marquis : “Everything that is sublime comes close to our creator. The sublime is not a passion, it is an emotion, an emotion which crosses our soul, and which in the space of an instant, makes you dizzy, brings you closer to the unspeakable truth… ”
Madame de Joncquières : "Do you hear all the subtleties of divine love as if you only had the scriptures for all foods?" "
The Marquis of Mademoiselle : " Mademoiselle understand that souls who are interested in the sublime are the most beautiful ..."
The Marquis à la Marquise : "I must have this girl or perish her ..."
La Marquise : "I advise you to chase this idea ..."
The Marquis : "Never has a face inspired me with such kindness ..."
The Marquis à la Marquise : "Madame pardon, I beg you?" "
La Marquise : "Do you have to become the persecutor because this girl is beautiful and wants to remain virtuous?" Where did I deserve to be your accomplice? Come on Marquis, throw yourself at my feet and ask me by donation! And preach to let my sad friends rest! "
The Marquis : "Sorry! A thousand pardons, help me, I beg you. Love is a plague, change your nature, I must have this girl, Madam, I must have her, see what I have become? Please, help your friend! "
La Marquise : " I already told you, there is nothing to do ! Forget it ! "
The Marquis of Mademoiselle : "Do ! May God make us see again very quickly… ”
The friend of the Marquise to the Marquise : " Marquise you made this man crazy ! You can now congratulate yourself on your revenge ! "
La Marquise : "To congratulate me now so close to my goal ?" "
The friend of the Marquise in the Marquise : " What more do you want ?" Beware ! Enjoy this victory over the Marquis, believe me ! How many kings have perished from too much insurance! "
The Marquise : " Madam, I am already dead than fear more ? "
The Marquis : " I am determined, the highest stupidity and that a man of my age and my condition and my condition, can do ... Madam, I marry! "
La Marquise : "Consider that the attractions of this young woman will fade ..."
The Marquis à la Marquise : " Would like to tear this unhappy passion from my heart, but for that, I will have to tear my heart. " Madame de Joncquières to Mademoiselle her daughter : " Every marriage is an arrangement ... It has arrangements which over time give rise to feelings ... " Mademoiselle au Marquis : “My destiny would no longer be painful. If it is cruel to deceive an innocent man, then no more to deceive a man you love ... Can you love someone and lie to them ? "
The Marquise : " It would therefore seem that purity is contagious ... "
La Marquise : " You see nothing beyond the veil that separates us from pain ... "
La Marquise : " If all women acted, the honor of being a woman would be increased ... "
From the courtiers to the Marquis : " Rediscover the radiance of your lightness ! "
Mademoiselle au Marquis : "No sir, I can't ... "
Miss : "I will only be really free when you can judge my behavior ... only when you can read in my heart and see how much, I hate lies ... I will be free, the day you see how much my faults are far from me… "
The Marquis to Mademoisell e : " Madam, I believe you sincere ... "
Miss : "Your happiness is not lost, you can forget me ! "
The Marquis of Mademoiselle : " Madam, I have forgiven you, I told you, I believe you do not believe it, Madam, Madam, I beg you, Madame La Marquise, come on, Madame get up, Madame des Arcis »
La Marquise to her friend : " My heart is at peace ...
My Love Kennedy, strength, violence and fury ...
The Kennedy Fate, Myth, America's Broken Fate
or the spirit of the Kennedy……
America, country of modern democracy, Lincoln, Roosevelt, Kennedy ... Trump ...
The casualness, the family perversion of the Kennedys, the revenge Nixon ...
Roosevelt the unloved, the new deal ... innovative idea then ...
Joseph, the ambassador died in 1969, the end of the Klan Kennedy, Ted beaten by Carter… End of the Hope Politics of the family, and the beginning of the family rivalries of the Kennedy, brothers, cousins, David, heroin, LSD, Rose Mary sacrificed to conservatism and prevailing conventions of the time ...
Boby disappointed hope of the family, of the continuity of John ... Jacquy widow, Ethel widow before the story of the fate of America to his American dream and its modernity of the time ...
The history of America is written in blood ... Violence and fury ... The flesh of the Kennedy ... The Kennedy cannot be happy, or the happy despair of the Kennedy ...
Franck Sinatra, Las Vegas, enemies of the Kennedy ... Las Vegas, the Glory of Casinos and money of the crime ... or Trump the billionaire heir to the casinos ... The Anti-Roosevelt of the New Deal ...
My Love Kennedy, from America's Lunar program, a step for humanity, social progress and his new ideas of the time; of anti-conformism in the face of a very conservative excess, in egalitarian society ... of men, of society, of rights ... Or Boby the fallen reformer, ahead of time, the man to be killed ... murdered ... His brother John the first ... or the Kennedy gift, go ahead, never back down in the face of difficulty, in the face of the curse of America, of the Kennedy ...
The Politeness of the Cat
The cat-man, the booted cat, half-man, half-animal, the poet is a cat endowed with a pictorial language with a refined taste ... The superfluous, the unimaginable, a light cloud with pink poetry floats in the air, vaporous, with swirling fluffy flakes, powder refreshing poetry, relieves the ambient heaviness, of beings with empty spirits ...
Politeness is a delicate taste in the shadows ... The cat with its instinctive ways gifted with its congeners to return politeness to you, its mustache of cat master, snobbery to be, it listens, extrapolates, meows to who knows how to hear, reflected on its tricks… Man being clumsy with dull senses, the talkative cat of spirit easily overcomes our clumsy mediocrity…
The poetry of the cat, enigmatic speech to humans, swaying verbs which come and go in balance and suppleness, with the slender body of the feline, with sharp claws, roars in the reckless, meows with pleasure in its idle hours.
Cat, the life of the cat, with multiplied lives, competes with us, advances to deafened masked steps, all in lightness, to blow you in the hollow of the ears the words, the poetics of the cat, chiseled poetry, silversmiths in the matter, master craftsman, you whisper a sweet melody, with subtle chords, perfect harmonies, elevate the poetic sense, with a bluish pastel note tinged with a light pink ... Cat harmony, Gifted cats, Poetic cats ...
Free, Freedom
Man of all conditions, freedom is priceless.
Let's break our chains, physical, mental or social.
Man of all conditions brandishes the arm of freedom, modern man we have other tyrannies, which imprison us, forbids us.
See what prevents us, breaks us, enslaves us.
Life obliges us, the revolt or the poetic revolution and the only fight which prevails in the face of the injunctions of life, powers which enslave us, blind us, monetize our existence, to the point of all sacrificing, life, living beings, our future in the seriously degraded, moribund environment, we have sacrificed our soul, forgetting the divine, or the spirit of the divine, the essence of our nature…
Christopher vs. Enigma, the digital calculator -
The unloved Allan Turing
Enigma the Nazi Code and the success of a man, a new calculator or blood-soaked calculus ...
Allan Turing, the paradox of intelligence, the machine-made man. The superior achievement of the intelligence of machine encryption in the service of the worst, of Nazi or Enigma horror ...
Only the intelligence of man or the destiny of a man can outwit barbarism or perform miracles, accomplish the unimaginable, the impossible. Alone against all ...
The human mind is an enigma in itself, which is limitless, beyond the common ... of ordinary man.
The different spirit of the machine or a nonhuman, synthetic thought, the game of imitation, a test, man or machine, like to solve problems, the most difficult enigma in the world, the hand of death ...
"I think sometimes it's the people you can imagine capable of doing nothing that no one has imagined ..."
Christopher the Calculator, the creation of Turing, bloodstained calculus, helped victories, people knew it, freedom against tyranny, at the end of the end of the war, sweep the ashes, erase all, people shouldn't know…
Matrix, Leo, the evil fighter
The relentless fight face to face, in direct opposition to evil, against human genius, all of humanity facing the illusion of the matrix, evil facing reality, the truth liberating from evil.
The opposition between the architect, the matrix, and the oracle, the hope of humanity, of the peace of machines.
The Oracle hope of a human who has faith in the human being in the face of machines, in the face of the evil of humans.
Walt Disney, art in motion, the miracle of the mind
or Disney, a new America dreamed of…
The creation of the human mind, the imagination or art set in motion.
The search for perfection, the creative spirit, an obsession of a man of a "project" in the service, of an artistic vision, of studios, of a work, realizing new ideas ...
Arthur Harold Babitsky says "Art Babbitt,” important animator
of Disney, who created many characters like the famous "Goofy" ...
In Burbank, studios resembling a multinational, Babbit launched the strike movement through the Screen Cartoonists’ Guild (animators' union), the animators want their independence from Walt… So Disney Utopia, dear to Walt is a breeze, his passion, his creation is rebellious…
Broken utopia, he stands ready to move forward.
Great innovators of the magic of his imaginary world, cutesy and in hatred for certain, he has the brilliant idea, like the thinker of America, of the taste of the average American, he creates the first amusement park in California , Disneyland or Disneyland Park in the city of Anaheim, named the "enchanted kingdom" produced and imagined according to the unique will of Walt, inaugurated on July 17, 1955.
Then came the dawn of his life fighting disease, proposing his new EPCOT (Experimental Project Community of Tomorrow) project wanted by Walt as an experimental prototype of a community of the future. The innovative idea of his vision was explained by Walt in October 1966 by a film called EPCOT.
Located in Orlando, a project dear to Walt, it was the culmination of his dream, faithful to "the visionary spirit of Walt Disney", of American society according to his vision, his principles of the American ideal, of a community, its social, moral, aesthetic and also family values, of a futuristic society according to the criteria of the time, completely over today ...
Walt died shortly before the inauguration of the beginning of the first theme park, the Magic Kingdom, then came the realization of the city, an educational project like the EPCOT Educationnal Media Collection series.
Initially the project wanted to be an international exhibition area which had to be permanently placed in the middle of the city thought by Walt and the "enchanted kingdom" one of the first theme parks that was created ...
A certain dream, Walt's ideas of innovations or the magical dream of a certain America ...
Free, Freedom
Man of all conditions, freedom is priceless.
Let's break our chains, physical, mental or social.
Man of all conditions brandishes the arm of freedom, modern man we have other tyrannies, which imprison us, forbids us.
See what prevents us, breaks us, enslaves us.
Life obliges us, the revolt or the poetic revolution and the only fight which prevails in the face of the injunctions of life, powers which enslave us, blind us, monetize our existence, to the point of all sacrificing, life, living beings, our future in the seriously degraded, moribund environment, we have sacrificed our soul, forgetting the divine, or the spirit of the divine, the essence of our nature…
Tatischeff or Jaques Tati -
The Illusionist, animated film, gives way to drawing,
to the visual imagination, a magician
Sylvain CHOMET produced and presented at the Berlin Festival in 2010 a world teeming with the imagery of drawing, colors ...
Seriousness in the service of picturesque, grotesque, poetry.
A rich and refined design in its style, towards life in the service of art, London, English chic in addition ...
Fashion à la Tati without dialogue, just emotion and a touch of originality all in intelligence and sensitivity ... With an appearance of a short passage by Jacques Tati in homage to the man and his work ...
The lightness of being, the Romantic life
or the choice of art ...
The lightness of being, the Romantic life or the choice of art ...
The free spirits with the lightness of being is a desire for romanticism, to detach themselves from the daily life of each one, in search of an interior richness, of a state of mind where art invites itself to the beauty of the world.
All beauty is the aesthetic research, from the spirit of the art, to the glory of an idealized romanticism ...
Life or making the choice of art, for an elsewhere, for a better, beauty and grace, to embellish one's life. The ideal art or life, the beauty is within you…
A bias for the best, the spirit of lightness ...
Or poetry for life ...
The "color of disability" -
Brutal Violence or Injury
Societal violence - The “color of disability,” new gratuitous racism or contempt, with the hints of anti-Semitism of a new order world ...
The handicap that sticks to your skin, a distinctive indelible tattoo, an open wound.
The difference or assets vis-à-vis others, the handicap, additional capacities, a strength, a constantly developed force of renewal, the exception which can lift you to heights intellectually, vital, a breath of higher life, or a being revitalized internally ...
The mark of contempt, gratuitous violence, displayed unceasingly, like a warning, enslavement, a new modern slavery in the color of the handicap, status; social, professional.
A new standard of our time, supposedly peaceful, civilized, manifest lack of equality, under duress, a reminder of a new order ...
The word handicap relating to other troubled times, with the effigy of the yellow mark, star of suffering-made man, in a time of our painful history, that of the occupation, of a new established order.
Be careful that disability becomes a territory where people are not stigmatized, differentiate, subclassified, underpaid, under ..., a restricted humanity, a subclass of man and woman where the law of ignominy reins in good form, controlled, overpowered, or the diet of shame.
So what could be a new chance for the society of men and women, of a society with egalitarian accents, where there will be positive discrimination this time around.
A difference, another point of view, a strong point, an additional capacity, a positive quality, a 6th sense of diversity, a reconciliation of the human, a new humanism ...
A new social pact, a new impetus for a fairer and better world in favor of accomplished diversity ...
Arcadia seen by Poussin or the myth of the Greek philosophers seen by the master of Classicism ...
Arcadia, myth of antiquity taken up by painters of the 17th century, Arcadia represents the "golden age" or the original state of nature of man or the representation of the beginning of civilization or Adam and Eve....
Arcadia is the lost paradise of man or the idea of a preserved world, an original nature made for man ... The 17th century under the aegis of the painting movement of classicism current pillars for painting European ... represented at the time by the painter Poussin who, in order to find the original country, which left the intrigues of the court in Paris for Rome, a source of inspiration and important contemplation for Poussin. Rome where he found support from important patrons at the time and found a rich clientele of connoisseurs ...
He who began painting late and abandoned by the court in Paris who tried to regain the power of French cultural attraction influenced by the King, asked that Poussin return to his lands in Paris and pretended to return then under the pretext of joining his wife remained in Rome where he had a great influence and recognition and became the master of French Classicism in Rome ...
His painting was decried by the critics of the time, frozen painting, taste for antiquity or ancient Romanity, but on the contrary his painting and painting intellectualized and tends towards philosophy, with refined taste, in the spirit of nobility, of great sensitivity and a marked philosophical spirit ...
It is a thought, philosophical painting ...
I cultivate my romantic soul
Art, poetry in all things allows you to elevate your romantic soul.
Cultivate one's romanticism towards the beauty of the soul, a total poetry, the human soul in search of the imperceptible beauty, poetry towards the love of the romantic or the art of the divine.
Re - enchanted the world or ecology -
"Refocus humanity" for a recreation of a "Wild Nature."
50%, half of the earth's surface for the preservation of biodiversity -
"Re - savage the Planet"
The Project to devote half of the earth's surface to the preservation of biodiversity or " Deep Ecology" ;
The 6th massive extinction of species is now underway… ” ;
“Our house is on fire and we are looking elsewhere, Cruel Truth! » - Jacques CHIRAC ;
Edward Osborne Wilson - World stars of natural sciences, defenders of the idea that humans are linked to other species ( Biophilia ) - The author of: "Half the earth: our planet fights to live" - Edward Osborne Wilson .
Re - inventing nature, recreating wild nature, from our controlled domesticated spaces, rewarding our natural spaces, here is a new idea, of a new path of new ecology, new experiences in the Netherlands… In England (the deadly Landes or landscapes have been transformed by man reduced in biological diversity, biologically impoverished ) , recreates an ecosystem with in the end, reintroducing the laws of nature, ecological predators, such as the wolf and raptors, biological cleaners and ecological regulator, of a recycled nature, rebalance the laws of the natural cycle, ecological life, a wild, natural nature with the contradiction that man may be a factor in a reintroduction of wildlife.
Ethical challenge and not only; save global biodiversity, "Deep Ecology" was intended initiative to promote the protection and restoration of habitus on a continental scale and ecological corridors to ensure wildlife. The idea of a half-earth to reward , the 50% solution (Reed NOSS, Allen COOPERRIDER, Authors of " Saving Nature's Legacy " - 1994) to preserve ecosystems between 30% and 70% of the terrestrial habitat is a necessity, the 50% solution… Half of the earth's surface for the preservation of biodiversity.
The supporters of the deep ecology movement are not anti-human, as is sometimes claimed. Supporters of the deep ecology movement deplore anti-human statements and actions.
For an ethical solution, the project for humanity to refocus ... The re-savage project is a commitment for a capital moral dimension for humanity to develop an ethic concerned with life on Earth, by refocusing humanity towards an idea of the laws of nature which places species other than the bias of "homo sapiens" who only care about their desires and needs for their only species, their desires above the good -being of all the other species to the detriment of a preserved biodiversity, of a balance of the laws of nature, of life, of naturalness… of the original creation… Is it possible to develop common understandings that allow us to work with civility towards harmony with other creatures and beings ?
Abba Eban , Israel's foreign minister during the 1968 war with Egypt, in the midst of all this madness he said: “When all else fails, men turn to reason. " When everything will continue to fail, when we are covered by water, when the number of species drops to the point of no longer being ignored, when we see how much we are destabilizing the world, then "men will turn to reason. . " "Man has a mission to stop destroying and ensure that biodiversity is restored on earth, otherwise the future of life is jeopardized, not only for the species, but also for humans who are linked to biodiversity" - Edward Osborne Wilson.
Man or reason for our Mother Nature, our destiny for humanity reconciled with oneself and its environment and the diversity of life, of a preserved life, of a controlled law of nature, towards the spirit of the natural, of a true philosophy for the benefit of all living beings, through the recognition of the inherent value of all beings, including humans, for our planet. No philosophy or technology is applicable to the whole planet. "The more diversity the better.”
The difficulty, the impossibilities of the heart,
misfortune feed the artist's work
The Artist reveals himself in his misfortunes and surpasses himself in happiness, the lightness of being, the sensitive life, the heart is the work of everything. The poetry of feeling guides the artist, nourishes his creations, creates his pantheon to the glory of love.
Loves disappointed, its creator, inspires the artist, the poet, dreams of the unimaginable reality, that of the heart, life and love.
In Wilmington, HOPE, "the American dream,” for the soul of America or the wings of Angels ...
In Wilmington, a hope was born for all Americans, to keep everyone on the path, heal, of the Americans, of America ...
A promise from Joe, unite, mend social relations, COVID, a tribute to democracy, America is the beacon in the eyes of the world.
Reconciliation for all Americans, reconciling the American dream, the land of all possibilities ... No red and blue, but America, its people ...
America, a country of equal opportunities, immigration, believing in God, for a better America ...
The wings of the protective angels for America appease the spirits, the anger is there.
Joe's smile, for hope, for the people, for the environment, to unite the Americans, to show his defeats… In South Carolina during the Democratic primaries, thanks to the African Americans, to end systematic racism.
Making the transition for the nomination, establishes a scientific medical corps against the pandemic. Courage, resilience, life, our planet, America to send a clear message, science, freedom ...
The nation will find its soul. Keeping once deep in America, women of color, we sacrifice everything for justice, women are the backbone of American democracy, a new generation of women, for her, their strengths, their visions and Joe to choose , a woman for vice president, America is a country where anything is possible. Women can dream ...
The fight to save lives fight COVID, the crisis, save the soul of our nation. A president for all Americans.
The people to speak up, a victory, for the American people, a climate of hope for a better tomorrow, not division, but unite, no red and blue, gain trust, America is its people, fix it soul of America, may America be respected, this vision must come true.
Don't say things are not possible, America is the spearhead, for justice. A coalition of all men, America, Americans stood up, give themselves a chance, refocus, listen to each other, the bible tells us that there is a season for everything, to build, a season for the harvests, and a season of healing, it's time to heal the United States ...
Rediscover prosperity, protect our planet for the climate, a fair chance for Americans.
Compassion, empathy, choosing to cooperate, to cooperate, the choice of Americans.
The legacy of immigration, opening up the country for everyone ..., believing in a country, a new border, yes we can. Fight against despair, build a nation for prosperity, the battle for the soul of America, for the soul of our nation, the fight of dark and noble aspirations, our battle for the good sides to win ...
An America that never gives up, all is possible when America is united.
Bringing America together reconciliation, healing, an ode, a tribute to democracy, the United States can be a flame that guides the world, the American dream. The land of all possibilities ... The land of equal opportunities.
The belief to reconcile the Americans, to mend America, the fractures, the gaping wounds, to appease the spirits, the bitterness, the refusal of defeat, our adversaries are not our enemies, they are Americans ...
Lincoln, Kennedy, Obama, America’s legacy, the US ended an ugly nationalist power. Kamala HARRIS, the passions of Americans, Kamala towards the hope of a future first woman President of the United States ...
My taste for things ...
My universe "Femininity or woman or feeling, love poems ..."
Artist in love with things and words, with the feeling of things, with the elusive, with the feeling of love, with people.
Draftsman and painter, perhaps the last romantic.
A romantic who loves flowery language, to achieve the poetry of feeling, the most beautiful thing is poetry, flowers testify, by their beauties and their fragrances, to seduce, a subtle poetic beauty, in the language of flowers, that of love, life, feminine perfection, grace and beauty ...
The heart of a woman
Women to be with a sensitive heart, to the intelligence of the developed feeling and to the emotional affection, to be of passions, devourer of life or the flames of a burning heart, of passionate loves.
The love of a woman is an inestimable treasure to be conquered, to be pampered with care, with attentiveness and attentiveness at all times, delicate, with an assumed feminine fragility.
A woman's heart, fusing devouring love, with overflowing heart stirs like English roses, generous flowers with passions exalting the loving senses, the richness of the scent of the feelings of made lovers.
Always love, intoxicated love of hearts, passionate women, women with the sensuality of human beings and procrastination of the heart ...
To the unreason of passions, love, a woman and a man.
Passions of the heart, the other, the diversity of cultures, ultra-chic, supreme love ...
The love of the other, the sharing of a different culture, an additional wealth, in understanding the other with his diversity, his beliefs, his point of view on things, his sensitivity, his language, finesse of the 'spirit, its subtleties of great sensitivity, a great modernity of beings, a delicate, refined civilization, at the forefront of the distinction of elegance, taste, sophistication, ultra-chic, distinguished, d 'an aristocratic nobility.
The love of the loved one, the candor of the loved one, his attraction, his shared sensitivity, his taste for things and beings, his inner richness, also his doubts, life ... A point of view to share with taste and aesthetic choice assumed, the elegance of being, love, a noble feeling, tested by life and its rigors, love winning, always winning, love the supreme heritage of human beings share…
The ideal, beautiful thing, an old idea; transvestite, misunderstood, hated by some, encouraged by others, ideal love does not exist, love is a revealer of oneself and of others, a noble idea in perpetual confrontation at every moment, nobility comes from the heart, only this idea and only this one matters, to an intrinsic value, the rest is only duplicity, delusion of oneself and of the spirit, is the only betrayal of oneself and of others.
The heart or the reason, two values which can go astray, vanish, oppose ...
Love has only one reason, that of being loved, darling ... A strength, a way to go, that of the heart, the illuminated horizon, and joyful, the smiling future faces you, fainting doubt, uncertainties, win the heart, win love. Valiant heart to who knows how to take. Women of accomplishment, maternal, loving, with passionate love.
In the King's garden,
Versaillais love
Versailles love, the poetry of love, the art of feeling in love, fallen lovers, such as Marie-Antoinette's thwarted love affair with the Comte de Fersen at Trianon, places of all tastes and pleasures.
Versailles on the day of the magnificence of a golden era, places of all possibilities, tragic heroes, the theater of the lives of people of the nobility, to the precious refined tastes of the court.
We loved each other in the King's Garden, places of all romanticism, of all hopes, romantic life begins there, places of all desires, and especially those of the king of the great century in the effigy of his royal excess. Places of the arts, of all the arts and loves, of embodied poetry, jewels, by the richness of its groves and gardens, of domesticated nature, places of all the powers embodied by the numerous sculptures, places of personalization of royal desire, from the monarchy, from total absolutism, its setting the Royal opera, represented by Lully’s king of the lyrical arts and of faith, to sacred music at the unique service of a person, God here below among metamorphosed men, the sacred major art like "miserere mei Deus,” stylistic perfection created for a man, His Majesty the King of France. The obscurantism of power, its darkness and its deified royal brilliance, illuminating the universe, the god of the Sun, shines in all points, in all places ... No one should forget it.
In the King's garden, loves are born, a loving woman with a pure heart and radiant feelings, sublime love, unconditional love, the radiance of her youth with a complexion magnified with freshness, going to delight, perfect love. Women in love, being of love, gentleness and tenderness of feelings, enlighten the world, the world of a unique love, fallen by the laws of life, its intransigence, its betrayals, the course of life and its rigors, poetry is there, saving, reincarnates beings, at the heart of these, immortal love, pure hearts are united forever in eternal time.
The poetic elegance of love,
Galland’s love at the gates of romanticism
The amorous dream of Fragonard "the painter in love with beauty," guided by F. Boucher, "My dear Frago, you are going to see in Rome, Michelangelo, Raphaëlle, I tell you in confidence and very low ... If you take these people seriously, you are a lost man ... "
The amorous discourse, the melancholy and dreamy spirit, love, my dear Frago, attentive pupil of Chardin and especially later of F. Boucher, Fragonard or the master of the elegance of the poetry of love at the French ...
French genius announced at the Royal Academy, he gives up for his more pronounced personal taste and his clientele at the expense of a career at the academy, recognized by the King.
Author of the famous paintings "Psyche showing her sisters the gifts of love"; "The escarpolette"; "The moment you want"; "The Lost Stake or The One Kiss"; " The lock " ; "The celebration in the park of Saint-Cloud.”
Galland’s love or sincere love, a strong subject at the start of his career like F. Boucher, heir to the 17th century, playful Galland love, all in discretion, sensual amorous feeling, in the Utopian Bergé wrapped in a dreamed Arcadia with shampooed sheep, faithful, sincere love, with the sophistication of a civilization with the taste of precious forts in the 18th century where the sexes are equal, a revolution of ideas at that time.
Vivant Denon by "Point de demain", creator of the famous "Le Louvre" museum, with a philosophy of living in the moment, without worrying about the next day, this is the new ideal of this disturbing 18 centuries, with more liberated customs.
"The Happy Moment or The Useless Resistance"; "La Culbute"; " Firecrackers " ; "The jets of water"; "My shirt is burning"; "Unnecessary resistance"; "Two women on a bed playing with two dogs, or getting up,” the drawings and paintings are at the peak of her libertine spirit, of happy love ...
Makes place at the end of his life a change, of course, in the spirit of the time, in its evolution; "Romantic love,” which is in the dream, the feeling, at the junction of the image and its vanishing, in the night, a flash, a volatile color, the blur, on the contrary of bright color, the spirit playful of the beginnings of gallant love ...
He stayed in Grace, and had the Salon de la du Barry installed in his own way, he also painted in the Villa Maubert. Alexandre Maubert, a wealthy perfume merchant, once owned it. He received a visit from his cousin, the painter from Grasse Jean-Honoré Fragonard, during the revolutionary turmoil. The painter's son, Alexandre-Évariste Fragonard, decorated the staircase with paintings in shades of gray. Allegories of the young republic sit alongside ancient figures and Masonic symbols. This remarkable decor is extended in the form of an architectural trompe-l'oeil to the garden level. There he made his last paintings of his work.
Him as cantor of the pleasures of the old regime, he was not disturbed by the revolutionaries ... The protection of Fragonard by his friend David, friend of Robespierre and great helmsman of the arts, where he was able to keep his apartment in the Louvre and to also be one of its curators, in the museum that the revolution established in the palaces of fallen kings ...
Inventor of the sketch paints like the announced new painting of the Impressionists, he represents the French spirit, the painter in love with love, inspired the great master Renoir, was quick to flush out genius under the lightness of smiles ...
"Because Fragonard was laughing, we were quick to say that he was a little painter" - Auguste RENOIR
The other,
the other self ...
The other self, starting from you and another envisioned, projected consciousness of another self, of a reassessed, augmented, improved, transfigured, reinvented, reconstructed, cultivated, discovered, worked, accomplished, revolutionized self ...
The revolution of oneself, to imagine oneself in a different way, to complement each other, to multiply in possible conceivable ones, to multiply one's being, one's way of being, one's knowledge, one's aptitudes, one's learning, one's constantly renewed evolution ...
To follow the path of oneself, to go to the end of one's possibilities, to cross new borders, another possible ”, possible, beyond oneself…
To increase one's fields of possibilities, to evolve in a limitless field, to explore one's inner world, in all its diversities, and areas for improvement.
Go towards the other self ... a self augmented by its ambitions, dreams, itself evaluated in the plural, increased tenfold ...
Outside the visible field, make really its potential, its perfection envisaged, calculated, premeditated, desired, verified by experience, through evaluation, success is implemented relentlessly ...
Me or Céline, the dark side,
the good and the bad ...
A great controversial writer in France, it is Ferdinand Céline Destouche or CELINE ...
I have a passion for the character which can be obscure at first glance, but if you scratch the varnish, it is about a man revolted by men, in the world, by the absurdity of the world and its appointments. You of history ...
He fell into the abyss of an important moment in the history of Europe and France in filigree, that of fear, the injustice of men, their cruelty, their stupidity, their blindness. in irreproachable justice in the eyes of a right thinking, of the march of history, while he lived, of the stories of the characters of men and their double facet, good and evil combined, he loves animals or to empathy for them, for people suffering, or left aside from the march of men, and society, their injustice that he too suffered with the greatest rigor, and violence, the violence of wars, of fallen societies, on the other hand, he draws earthy portraits of the men and women he has met in his life course, he has a ferocity in describing our world, that of men ...
Despite everything, with fun and humor, where the drama is cruelly taking shape, it is the objects of all these novels, which were those of his life ...
To become like Céline, to have her piercing eye, in the face of the cruelties of the world and its pleasures, that is my ambition, that of the thinking and philosophizing writer ... on life ...
My disproportionate ambition, that of a man who, pen in hand, denounces and inspires the beauty of life and its
Nice ambition, which is it, right ?
"A Sunday in the Country"
or a Sunday in late summer 1912 -
The arrival of a new era of the 21st century
The faithful representation of the scene of a Sunday in the countryside of this period is an impressionist painting by Auguste RENOIR under the title "In the garden - under the arbor at the mill of the galette" - 1876.
There in a generous nature under the shade of the branches in a landscaped place, in a beautiful afternoon, with cheerful summer rays, brightens up this family gathering on summer days. A meeting with people from good families, a life without a hitch, a bourgeois life, punctuated by peaceful rituals of this tidy life, a story adapted from a novel by Pierre Bost "Monsieur Ladmiral will soon die".
French film by Bertrand TAVERNIER in the chosen period costume, a life of the 19th century with bourgeois codes of the time, a quiet life, without turmoil, everything happens here, as if nothing had to change, immutable.
Mr. Ladmiral is any painter with the sure taste of his time, without any real genius, lives alone with his servant. His son Gonzague is his worthy representative and is there with his whole family accompanied by his wife Marie-thérése and his three children, Emile, Lucien, Mireille. Gonzague, son of a tidy life, loving order and decorum.
This Sunday is present Iréne the daughter of Ladmiral, a young woman with an irreproachable toilet, is the liberated woman of this time, energetic and nonconformist, questions or upsets this gentle and peaceful ritual of this moment consecrated by the bourgeois family. And goes as far as his father to discuss the choices of his life, the artistic one, and questions his artistic path, his choices, his taste called into question by Iréne.
Everything is said there in this moment of French life of a bourgeois of the 19th, everything is in place, with the hand of time, which is no longer that of our era or of the privileged few or classes of our modern era who no longer savor the time which passes peacefully under the yoke and the threats of incessant time, to the floods of information and catastrophic news of a time which is dying and going to the announced future decline.
Terrible time that ours, at the gates of unthinkable technological upheaval, there is little, new energies, revolutions of information, of artificial intelligence, and there at our door the revolution of techniques of quantum physics which will change everything , our world, in depth the technological revolutions knocking on our door to capture some such as an old photo from the past decades and radically impose another world that is unknown to us, the contours of which we hardly draw and imagine…
The Poetic Soul
His inner being, developed sensitivity, taste for things and beings with heightened poetry.
The culture heritage of a society, from the various eras which enrich the poetic life, to the taste of the souls of beings, resonates this music with free accents and independent of escaped beings, where innovative spirits sharpen their senses, at all risks , with the benefits of a poetic life, of a real life, re-intellectualized, with subtle flavors, full of meaning ...
Wonderful ...
My heart of the Islands,
The exotic color of passion,
love fruit, Yasmina
My angel, all pure soul, sensitive heart, uplifted soul being. Your whole being is there, I see your soft and fragile soul, your immaculate face of your being breathes.
My heart of the Islands, parrots, palm trees, pineapples, papayas, guavas, prickly pears, your pirate heart, my wife with the generous color of the heart, your soft amber color in the Corsair Islands, you have boarded, accosted my heart, touched in full thousand, I won your banner.
Your sweetness of your enchanting voice, you are all spirit, intelligence of being, your intellect elevated in action, frankness of feelings, with strong values, your enlightening spirit.
Your great diversity of your being, your varied roots reason, your unique personality, your wealth, your otherness, your distinction, your strength of mind and soul, embark on a courageous heart, fine spirit with a joyful smile of the heart, independence of spirit, open the islands of your heart to those who know how to conquer you, deserve you.
Our time, today or life ...
Our time is in direct contrast to our lives as city dwellers in large metropolises or for a large part of the people do not have the comfort of mind of a few ... especially in these troubled times ... or an enlightened door opens up to us, with hoped-for hope and comfort ...
Life is there, strong, a state constantly in renewal, imperturbable, always there to win… Hubert REEVES famous astrophysicist states at one of his conferences on “the origin of life” cannot define what is the spark of life, it is unexplained and inexplicable now ...
Conversely, the cradle of life are the stars, in the Hamas galaxies which by colliding create blue matter, an oxygen molecule, the source of the life of all things ...
In a poetic blue halo of the play of colors, particles of life, mystery of the gods, the secret of the all-powerful being, who sows, to the poetry of the universe, life, the omnipotence of a creator god who imposes itself there, dust of divine life ...
The being is there, life, men, animals, plants constantly in competition, a race for life ... Man is fragile, in a fragile environment where the loss of life is incessant by human activity, which devours life, a new ogre ... or a virus causes him to tip, retreat, tremble, frighten him with his own fragility.
Order, The Law of Silence, the Dictate ...
Total submission
The people on their knees, total submission, the dictate of state, appeasement by the law of fear ...
The emergency law, new state regime ...
Law of exception, no word, no one contradicts, to impose by the disproportionate force of state, the deaf silence of the total submission, feet and hands bound, mouth gagged, bayonets with the rifles, we return in times long forgotten in the bad memory was a distant time, of a new order in Europe, where the brutal force annihilated the satiated peoples, by the object of fear, the men were no more, nothing ...
The total annihilation of the people’s subject, to the laws of exceptions of then to this troubled, nauseating period, where violent murder was the law, or a certain category of people had to suffer ignominy, total annihilation, deportation to the laws of the inhuman, of the crime against humanity, in the name of a superior law, of the new European order which does not speak its name !!! ...
Watch out for the whiff of tragically stuttering history! Doesn't that ring in your ears ? To the current nauseating events ...
Order and law, that of the tragic ... Poor of us, poor men and women ...
"The law" of men "beautiful ideas,” to that of the betrayal of peoples, to the state regime with a totalitarian stench, no word, order to silence now and childish blind obedience ... Force to the regime..
Passions and soul...
Beings of blood and flesh feed on passions, passions are made of men, life feeds beings with the flame of life, nourishes the fire of beings.
Music is passion, the arts are supports filled with our happiness, our joys, hatred, our anger, life is a mixture of feelings, our being is sensitive, and complex, exacerbated by our passions, life is filled with the salt of a gentle violence, of our moods ...
The soul is pure, does not compromise, our unconscious is charged with it, our will is governed in depth by our unconscious, which governs our choices and desire, we are prisoners of ourselves, of our inner being moreover, of its intransigence ...
Govern our whole being, our loves, we are only the reflection of this unknown world, which is our unconscious, hardly frees itself totally prevented by our awakening consciousness ...
The soul is a complex universe of our being, an unfathomable universe, where only a few exceptional people are listening to their soul, to the torment of their minds awakening to capacities like no other, which have probed their depths of their soul and their unconscious, not without pain or violence, resist the depths of an ancestral fear, uncontrollable, of an extreme intensity.
I stole your heart ...
I stole your heart...
Yes, my love, sensitive heart, you are loved.
My love, I have stolen your heart, a sensitive soul with a generous heart filled with love.
My beloved, I stole your heart, lyric symphony, you radiate, your sensitive heart is beauty, all in femininity.
Sensitive heart, beautiful soul, pure heart, you fill my life.
Your joy, your emotions, is a beautiful woman's love.
Your being shines, free and without far, you live your desires to live, cries of love.
Sweet soul, you whisper, I listen to you, the melody of the heart, you breathe.
Your heart is a butterfly of a thousand colors which flies in the wind.
Clings to the flowers of love, to the intoxicating pollen of a cornflower rose, to the precious nectar.
Pearl of love, forever love, I stole your heart forever ... my love.
Today and ancient Rome -
Maximus, the gladiator, the warrior ...
The film ... This for all Roman citizens ... And maybe we too ...
And also like the reflection of a mirror of truth, to us contemporaries of our sophisticated, technological times and to the various human societies of our world ... To gladiators who challenge the great emperor himself in the arena ...
Marcus Aurelius (Marcus Aurelius) Friend and spiritual father of Maximus.
Roman emperors and philosopher, his reign saw the greatness of Rome spread thanks to the various wars. He died of suffocation by his son, Commodus, when he wanted to return power to the Senate so that Rome could once again become a republic:
“Your faults as a son are my faults as a father. "
The Father Emperor: "Death smiles at all of us, all we can do is smile at death ..."
Gracchus senator (Intriguing like all senators and conspiring more particularly with Lucillia), he is one of those who oppose the authority of Commodus the most:
“I don't pretend to be a man of the people, I try to be a man for the people. "
Hagen (German Colossus serving as an instructor to new slaves including Maximus and Juba) of Proximo, who intends them to become gladiators like their brother in arms. Becoming the friend of Maximus and Juba, he is a warrior at heart who is not afraid of death and demonstrates a great sense of humor in the face of their condition:
“We will await your return, Maximus. "
Maximus to Quintus: "Senator Gracchus, he had a dream called Rome, it must be realized ... According to the wishes of Marcus Aurelius"
Lucillia - Lucilla (Daughter of Emperor Marcus Aurelius and sister of Commodus) :
"Marc Aurèle is found… You are at home…"
"Is Rome worth the life of a good man? ...
We once believed it ... We have to believe it again ...
He was a soldier of Rome… Honored the… ”
Right after Maximus’s violent death in the arena, Juba the Gladiator (Numidian hunter kidnapped from his tribe by slave traders like Maximus) Maximus heroes of history, Juba the Gladiator said:
"Now we are free, and we revere each other ... But not yet, not yet ..."
I chose poetry at war… Dare to say no…!
With revolutionary ideas
of Sir Voltaire and Rousseau ...
To me Voltaire François-Marie and Rousseau Jean-Jacques, free thinkers, dare to say no…!
Thought, poetry stronger than anything by their virtues alone ... than the authoritarian injunctions of our world, stupidity, ugliness, greed, pollution, destruction ... without limits reign over our world or the law of the powerful , predators ...
Dare to say no…! Dare for us and our world in becoming uncertain on the brink ... No, to save us, though, poetry as the only weapons in the face of brutality and ignorance ...
The stupid blindness of our time, of our technologies which blinds us dangerously at the expense of a single true common sense which reasons justly, say no ...! Dare to assert it at the highest!
Injustice, the destruction of our environment, the authoritarian voices of these immediate nauseating times of order at all costs, not to impose the force of state ... the emergency laws for all alone answer, confiscation of freedoms, simulacrum democracy, such as Scapin's tricks or the theater of freedoms, a fool's game of our faltering democracies, the extinction of thought ...
Free thought and poetry to say no ... Stronger by intelligence of the mind ... or the thought of criticism, criticism by the sheer force of words ...
Rousseau J.-J. or "the social contract" or by the spirit of Rousseau, the beginning of the thought of democratic ideas or those of revolutionary ideas for the emergence of a new society with more just ideals for men ...
Voltaire, the Liberal with new ideas, wants to reform, transform, the society of his time. The French Revolution saw in him, as in Rousseau, a precursor ...
And one fine day in 1789 born, the French Revolution and the ideals of the times of enlightenment, the president of the constituent Mounier will again ask that Louis XVI promulgate the Declaration of the ri
ghts of man and of the citizen of 1789 and the laws of August 4 and 26 abolishing the society of orders and privileges ...
The beginning of the French Spirit, of libertarian ideals, of a more just society, for the liberation of men from the oppression from which they come, let us keep in mind these fundamental principles.
Our time enchains us and tramples underfoot, violently crushes any hint of freedom and social and human progress ...
When will we see a new salutary revolution in the minds and laws of a society on the march for a liberated humanity with ecology in a reconciled world
An encounter, revealed art,
a world apart, painting ...
A painter Laure GRAGEZ
The painting art of the sensitive, of the original meaning, a powerful emotion, an emotion of beauty, of the living ...
Art is an intense emotional charge, art is an essence of the deepest human.
Art is the most perfectible thing, an indispensable utility for our world, and especially for ourselves.
Painting is emotional, seduces you by its mere presence, a moment of the present in all power, with strength and delicacy...
The writer, his attachment,
lover of Literature ...
There are the loves of youth and the love of literature, these are shared feelings of the same order, the relationship to what is unavoidable, vital things, of the author's mind, of his desire, of his inner world, the relationship to live, as we breathe, the air and the wind ...
The commitment of an author, the relationship of writing, is the commitment to the ideas of writing of what an author can be, and of its additional difficulties that writing is an excessively medium. Elitist or demanding, with few elected, and little recognition in return ...
But it is at this price, the audacity of the writer in front of the world, to try to be authentic, to be oneself, to assert what one is and why one does it ... His own truth at work ...
Regarding the reader, I am very interested in how he feels about things, his understanding of the author, his truth, the correctness to say, to communicate, the essential for the author's truth, his deep nature. .
The discovery of an author opens you to a sensitive New World, to discover, a particular vision, a thought in order that goes to the heart.
Literature, its value is essential, a human work of a richness attached to its time, writing is essential to oneself and to others, open to the world, ideas, feelings to share, the intimate that does work .
Versailles
Places of power, of the arts, of a society, of a world forgotten forever or the representation of all luxuriance, the French language or the French spirit beyond all refinements, here below and in the heavens , or the king the divine representation of men in charge of all things on earth ...
The divine spirit is made of exception and of all luxuries, of all the achievements of the arts like those of the war, to reign, it is the king.
In Versailles, at court, the most sought-after value was wit, wit, you were then raised to the rank of a man of spirit, a value more important than a few jewels or other goods ...
It was the time of great minds, the spirit of enlightenment, of the arts of a good society, with tastes and shared values to nourish the spirit and the divine and failing that the reminiscences of everyday contingencies, of the body, we feed the body and the spirit or inquire about the wonders of the world in which this society of noble people is involved ...
All the distinctions were important, the attention to detail was there, in all things, things had to reveal the spirit of this golden age ...
Everything was involved.
Free, Freedom ...
Freedom cherished France
Without waiting, finally let us free ...
Without waiting let us free, imposed prison, lies, tyrannies, with mental violence! No to submission! Finally, live Liberty! Freedom cherished France!
Disobedience, prisoners mentally, physically ...
The confinements to unreason, mental prison.
Life, live or die, no to fear, walking in fear ...
A hymn to life, we wrapped up in cellophane, we are in chains, or are they happy days, of our beautiful France, free, cherished freedom ...
Dare resistance, dare disobedience, say no, no to our chains, no to our imposed prisons, bad dream, do not say !
The free stars sparkling in the sky to the song of deliverance, free, freedom.
Let us live like the suns that shine in the highest, let us shine together freely, the spirit clear, light, let us live and breathe freedom, finally let us live free ...
Despair, fear, confinement, lies, tyranny, no to its people of despair, of self-forgetting, of living, of forgetting freedom, scorned, mistreated, betrayed ...... say no! Finally, free to the stars of hopes !
I have a dream in the stars of the sky, blue of the sky, pink of love, finally free, in the song of love.
Under Vichy's eye, resistance or betrayal ...
The shadow man did act, Covid obliges ...
The new implacable order imposes its anti-democratic laws as under the regime of another time that of Vichy, and of its heinous crimes unspeakable to the blind violent cruelty, the men of power
not of feelings, force is with the law, that of the regime imposed by force… No one should oppose, like the Vichy laws, from another era to the horror of the turmoil of our modern time…
The propaganda is there, relentless, inexorable logic ... Covid 19 or betrayal of the people, of their rights and freedoms ... No arbitrary arrest for those who do not obey, but the law of the
fine to the authoritarian package, to police the drift, penal order, we no longer compromise, here is the new order ... Resistance ...
No democrat, no democracy, the time is not for democratic dialogue, the point is not there, this idea is inept… Against nature… In the hour of truth, of the first necessities, compulsory
purchase, new order, state injunctions ... the law of Covid 19.
The virus like a curse that cruelly and tragically haunts us, the virus is there, it strikes, we do not know ... we do not know where, we do not know who, the virus is there, it is watching us
... the fatal moment, like a monster from the shadows, it strikes, serious cases in intensive care, death is there, young or old… It is a tragedy before our helpless eyes… The regime imposes
state of affairs under the law of fear… Fear a weapon like another, effective, tragic.
Covid 19 uncontrollable killer virus, without any prejudice, it strikes indifferently, equal in its sentence, it kills as it passes, no one is immune any matter what, death can be at the
appointment, without distinctions whatsoever 'they are… Death does not compromise, implacable, the arbitration award is fatal… For whom his destiny is tragic…
The law of the State Covid imposes without discussion, obliges us urgently, we are under the injunctions of a new order, of the urgency which makes law, no national assembly, the new order of the
laws of exception, we are under the didactic of injunctions, no democratic vote for the representation of people's deputies, the law of order prevails, no opposition, swept away ... everything is
under control, the reason for power, not of the sovereign people, we, the orphan of democracy violated, brutalized, murdered in the name of a state did act, the virus opens the way to the worst
... a new order, a new order regime ...
No one else would have been more successful in imposing this state of affairs by the law of men of the betrayal of our democracy which is no longer emptied of its fundamental substance.
Our cherished freedom, our libertarian ideas, to that of the fate of our capital Paris, such as that of its liberation, that of Paris, of a dark time, of a sad and absolute occupation, in the
face of the blackness of these times, that of treason and state crime ...
When will our freedom be restored, the honor of free men and women freed from odious diets, under the law of ignominy, the regime of fear, an anti-democratic regime, liberticide, police
...
Simple happiness
Happy days are unique moments in the history of life, its fulfillment.
A simple happiness, essential thing, a happy love, a life of fullness, a happy life, a simple finitude.
The beautiful life, the life of simple happiness.
Love of poetic happiness, in pastel pink, a light evanescent touch of purity.
Joy, the sun radiates from happiness to the pleasure of a forbidden paradise.
A successful life, its culmination, a real life, of unfulfilled happiness, a real life, of life's imperfections, happiness of a lifetime.
Forbidden love, to liberating happiness, a joy elevated to the divine, is a rare pleasure, of a precious life.
With loves accomplished, happiness is there at the end of the road, smiles at you, awaits you, there, at the end of the infinite horizon.
I'll go there at the end of the road, even simple happiness ...
Love letter
The poetry of words flies over the sheets of books, to say lovers the words of love...
Words of love forever ...
The passing of time, to the death that separates lovers, people who love each other...
To the tragic fate, which forbids us, separates us forever ... to loves fallen by the misfortune that strikes ... death.
The loves of the English patient, a love letter written there, the last love letter...
The most genuine, of deep love, of lost love.
Love is there, at worst ...
The letter written until the last breath, until the last moment, in the twilight, and the cold, then the last words lying there in the dark, to say his love before the inevitable end of the lovers' promise, terrible moments...
To find oneself despite the death that stands in the way, to fulfill one's word of love given to find oneself despite the accomplished destiny, the passing...
Impossible loves are in the pantheon of loving beings of heart and soul.
Nothing stops love, not even death.
Words fly away in the lightness of evanescent spirits, hearts win the heavens never to return, like loving birds soar there to the firmaments of immortal lovers illuminating the starry stars ... A word of love ...
The tearing
Algeria forever.
France, the fault in the history of this dirty war ...
Or Maurice PAPON of hateful sad memory under Vichy ...
Called to business, PAPON is rife in Algeria (regional prefect for eastern Algeria in Constantine) deploys "operational protection detachments" (DOP) specializing in interrogations, torture ... Papon will also adapt it to Paris, to in 1958, in the form of the “Algerian Affairs Coordination Service.”
Algeria, land of men and women in hope.
Colonization, suffering, war, independence, betrayal ...
Land of Camus, Camus Nobel Prize, abroad.
Land of hope.
Men of power, to the detriment of men and women, of the people betrayed, satisfied by terror.
Today, a country with a heavy and terrible fate, blind power, with simple contempt for life ...
Understanding between the economic powers between France and Algeria, betrayal, duplicity of the economy or of interests, money without borders to the detriment of men and women, money at the heart of the military power of the country, of the powers political, military, economic ...
The money of the compromise for only policy, for only horizon, parody of democracy, betrayal and submission by terror of men and women ...
Another hope ... a dormant, dreamed of hope, of dissident intellectuals, the chains will one day break, to the oblivion of the peoples ... born strength, for the freedom of the peoples, who one day will take their destiny in hand ...
Elisabeth-Louise Vigée-Lebrun - This 18th century of refinement, in the circle of fine spirits or the apprenticeship of the St-Luc academy ...
Elisabeth Louise Vigee-Lebrun - The 18 th century refinement, the circle of fine spirits or learning of the Academy of St. Luke ...
Daughters of Louis Vigée , pastellist, member of the Academy of Saint-Luc, and of Jeanne Maissin , of peasant origin, Élisabeth Louise Vigée entered, at the age of six, as a boarder at the school of the Convent of the Trinity, in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.
Court painter with 660 portrait paintings, professional painter at 14, she fled clandestinely to the gates of the revolution in exile at the start of the revolutionary period, she believed she would travel for six months, and the last 13 years with the largest courts in Europe, it will stay in Italy, Austria, England and Russia ...
Women with a talented and free destiny who knew how to combine success and fortune, in her memoirs she will say, "Before the Revolution, women had power, the revolution dethroned them ..."
Born in Paris in April 1755 just a few months before Marie-Antoinette ...
In 1761 her father got her back to live with him and for his teaching. Louis Vigée his father practiced pastel portraits, he encouraged her, he told her, "You will be a painter or you will never be…" at 11 she left the convent, her mother Jeanne took her to the exhibitions, she is self-taught, she married Jacques François le Sèvre, a clientele of great bourgeois and noblemen and began to have significant fees… From pre-romantic portraits to portraits of men, she acts cunning in her work ...
They meet two important women for their then destiny in the gardens, during everyone's leisure, the promenade, nobility, grande bourgeoise, craftsmen, merchant and bad subjects meet in the gardens of the Tuileries, the Champs Elysees, the Luxembourg, and at the Royal Palace where Elisabeth and her family settled ...
When walking, you have to see and above all be seen, for example fashionable places are created and last only for a moment like the colosseum located on the Champs Élysée and lit by 2,000 candles, it could accommodate 40,000 people ... There we found cafes, circuses, trinket shops and curiosities, a performance hall, a ball, we used to shoot fireworks ...
During these walks, Elisabeth is noticed ...
These two important women for his destiny cross his path ...
The Duchess of Châtres future Duchess of Orleans protects the artists, practically her neighbor because she lives at the Royal Palace, then asks her to portray her and her friends ...
The second meeting which will decide his future triumphs will also take place during one of these walks in a park… “We went to Marly-le-Roi, and there for the first time, I took the idea of an enchanting stay , one morning, I met the queen there who was walking in the park with several ladies of her court… They were all in white dresses and so young that she seemed to me like an apparition… ”.
“The queen urges me to continue my walk, wherever I please. "
Marie-Antoinette arrived in France in May 1770 at the age of 15 to marry Louis Auguste Dauphin of France and son of Louis XIV.
Elisabeth works freely and on the fringes of all institutions, the jurande the body which governs the institutions, comes to seize these instruments in her workshop and forces her to register her activity within a professional framework. She is obliged to join a master's degree for the profession of the painter, it is the Academy of Saint-Luc where a member of the Royal Academy of Sculpture and Painting ... And thus present herself at the Academy of Saint-Luc or she will be brilliantly received ...
In 1775 Jacques François le Sèvre moved and took an apartment in a beautiful mansion in Paris, rue de Clairie , almost opposite the apartment of his father Louis Vigée … This apartment in a very beautiful hotel called the Hôtel Duber where he lives Jean-Baptiste Pierre Le Brun leads a career as a painter, restorer of paintings and art dealer, he has a real museum in his apartment… which will allow Elisabeth to perfect her pictorial knowledge…
He owns the collection of Count Joseph Jacinthe de Baudreuil who is close to the court, father of France, governor of the Louvre, and member of the Academy of Fine Arts and will become the first collector of portraits of Elisabeth ...
She will make a trip to Flanders after she married in 1776 with Jean-Baptiste Pierre Le Brun, she discovered upside down, the genius of Rubens and will be inspired by the technique of the master to realize a self-portrait of oak. At Antwerp merchant discovers a painting by Rubens the Straw Hat or rather a felt hat and allows a play of drop shadows and light golden effect, a play on the face and on the forehead ... which will be the masterpiece, of his own future masterpieces ...
Back in France, she will paint a self-portrait, her masterpiece… With extraordinary glazes, at the height of her art… One of her most beautiful paintings, the first painted on wood. The success of her painting is so important that she will reuse this composition on several occasions for large commissions for characters of the highest ranks, the first of her, Madame du Barry, then the most prestigious will be Marie-Antoinette and many others. 'Others still ...
Ambitious Elisabeth, she wanted to rise to the highest level of power and it was through the Duchess of Châtre that she reached Marie-Antoinette. In 1778, she officially acceded to the orders of Versailles… Marie-Antoinette was always disappointed with these portraits that were made of her. The letter she sent to her mother in November 1774, she said, "The painters kill me and despair me ..."
If Élisabeth has a real talent, it is that of adapting to the personality of these models… Her art and of expressing the grace of young nobility girls, the spicy lightness of the actress of Madame Mollet Rémond , or sensuality of Madame Grant, future princess of Tallerand ...
The essential characteristic of the paintings of Vigée Le Brun is the grace of these portraits, and inhabited by a lot of feelings, empathy with the model, by his listening and his observation ...
Marie-Antoinette had found her portrait painter and forged a regular familiar and friendly relationship ... Elisabeth wanted to return to the Royal Academy of Painting, but she was refused the fact of producing paintings and her husband being a painting dealer ... And she ends up obtaining it in secret by bringing in through Marie-Antoinette who asks the King to have her accepted at the Royal Academy of Painting. Women are hardly accepted at the academy, only four of them were accepted in 1783 ...
At the Royal Academy of History Painting, the upper hierarchy of artists, the undisputed master was Jean-Louis David, friends of Elisabeth, history painting was at the top, the portrait was much lower… Madame Vigée Le Brun allowed herself the impertinence of flirting with history painting, through the canvas she presents for the reception at the academy "The pair bringing abundance" ...
Shortly after her return to Paris on January 18, 1802, Vigée Le Brun saw Laure Regnaud de Saint-Jean d'Angely and Joséphine Bonaparte. Very quickly, she found some of her friends from before 1789 such as Geuze , Hubert Robert, Bongniart or Ménageot .
The artist continued to paint in the service of the Empire and the European aristocracy, and between 1803 and 1805 began many trips to England.
England counts among 800 portrait painters and the competition is tough, Vigée Le Brun takes a step back from the English society which she finds deeply monotonous and boring, and says, " I am not surprised that the spleen was born here, you have fun. How bored we are… ”
She will return definitively to France in 1805, and will continue the delicate and sensitive work which had made her success before the revolution.
Vigée Le Brun passed away slowly on March 30, 1842 alongside his nieces. She died after having known the glory and the critics, the luxury and the exile, the monarchies and the revolutions, the greatest artists and the powerful Europeans of her time, traveled all over Europe, aged 87, will register on his grave his Epitaph at Louveciennes "Here, finally, I rest ..."
"Lovers are alone in the world,”
to those of great minds ...
To the great love of lovers with desires subjugated by the desire for loving feelings, to lovers in need of cupid and the lover of unbearable beauty.
The rose of the times with heady scents, with its fragile purity, drunk couples in search of immeasurable love, love suits them well to the complexion.
Love innocent to the purity of souls is the most beautiful, the greatest to the nobility of hearts of young people.
To Louis Jouvet or "Lovers are alone in the world," delivered to the harshness and injustice of the world ...
What is love, sincere love devoid of all interest?
Sacrificial love or due to the weaker sex, sacrificial ingenuity, the debt of love or the debt of the heart.
Love or suffering, happiness would then be unbearable! The lover with a loving heart, says I love you, and can only say that, the heart ignites ...
Love and like luck, it keeps its secrets ...
The loves of Madame de Maintenon, wife of an illustrious king or Saint-Cyr, offers the birdies, a poor young girl of the nobility, a disinterested love, unconditional to those of women.
Women or made love, or passionate love for women ... know how to resist the desire to please ...
Mary Shelley, the empire of beauty, your love has chains for my heart, I join the gates of hell swept away by waves, to distant darkness, something is at work in my soul… A bad one, a strange dream, from another world or the fatal tragedy, of a sinister day or the sad fate come true. And Gustave Doré, beyond the grave, the spirit of Dante reincarnated ... or the genius in addition ...
To great men, verses from Sieur Racine, to beautiful things of the mind ... Please bring your soul, like music, love is an affair of the heart, to the good feeling of it unlike those who are devoid of it, pleasure is a story of the passions of the heart.
" The big s maneuver s " , Gérard Philippe, Michelle Morgan -
" Hôtel du Nord " or Renee or art lovers lost s .
The shooting stars or the women ...
Gérard Philippe incorrigible seducer as an army Colonel, with multiple adventures of women for new conquests, or a bet, to seduce Michelle Morgan, who falls madly in love with him ...
Big-hearted women run briskly through the stars like shooting stars… The hearts of lovers are consumed with languid, impatient hearts…
And at the Hôtel du Nord … ( Annabella : Renée, Pierre's fiancée - Arletty: Mme Raymonde, the prostitute - Louis Jouvet: M. Edmond, Mme Raymonde's protector - Jean-Pierre Aumont: Pierre, Renée's fiancé ) .
Renée: "I have never loved tonight so much, I couldn't love more…"
Pierre the lover: “I wouldn't have wanted to be happy. "
Renée: "We only have our love in the world and nothing more ..."
Pierre the lover: "We will be happy, we will be dead under a lucky star ... We will be far from everything, and we will never come back ..."
Pierre the lover: "The others have no love, they have the rest ... Never again, we will walk in the night to reach the dawn ... Renée, my love ... Answer me ...".
Renée's supposed death… at the Hôtel du Nord.
Robert: “This is the first time that I'm shy, they called me Edmond, my real name is Robert. I have become a different type, I have changed my skin, I like clean clothes ... neat suits, impeccable ties, I cannot see music even in painting, blood does not impress me anymore, on the contrary . It's hard to leave each other at that point… And then, I was made to be something other than Edmond or Polo… The proof is that tonight, it's Robert who is talking to you… You can listen to this one, it is clean, it has hardly ever been used… There you go! That's all ! It's a gift, it's a gift that looks like nothing, but I paid dearly for it ... I always told myself that this confidence, I would tell Renée one morning, on the morning of our first night, but I realize now that we will never have a first night, both of us… It's as if we had had it elsewhere, since I gave myself up to you… " Renée: "I would have liked to give you something in exchange, so that we are left, only I have no secrets ..."
Robert: "You listened to me, that's enough for me, and you had merit in listening to me ... Lady, yes, because happiness and you, that makes two ... And my story alongside yours ... “Renée:“ Oh, my story is over ” Robert: “Finished ?? "
Renée: “Yes and the funniest thing, and that I can't get out of it… No, forgetting and starting over doesn't depend on Pierre, but on me… And I can't resign myself to it! I had so much hope, so much confidence ... He n 'there had it my love, then you understand! We do not resign ourselves to believing in it anymore! We want to stay again! We love it! In this circumstance , you would need someone who forces you to leave… As in the cemetery or the theater… As for those who remain standing there, go away, have closed the doors… ”. Take me, let's go, we almost sank, we missed a lot of things! Let’s not stay there! There is another life for us somewhere… Elsewhere… It will perhaps succeed, I do not expect anything from anyone… With our two misfortunes… We can do… ”
Robert: “A great catastrophe !! "
Renée: "Take me since anyway we have to go… Take me!" "
Robert: “It would be too good! … ”
Renée: “At the last moment my heart failed me. La Josiane left without me. "
Peter the lover: "And the other?
Renée: “He must have embarked anyway… And yet at the start, I was sincere , I believed in it! I saw myself living in Port Said, free from everything with brand new memories. If I did not leave, it is because I could not do otherwise, it is because something stronger than me was holding me back… You! " Pierre the lover: "So it wasn't much that something!" "
Renée: "What can it do, I did everything I could to try to hate you, I didn't succeed… And even like, I don't understand better now, yes , to persuade the other to take me away, to leave everything, I spoke to him like you the other evening at the Hôtel du Nord. I realize now, I used your words to convince him… But when we had to let go, when it was already too late, so I was scared too… You see, we all had the two missed a train, we are quits. " Peter the lover: “No! But no ! You didn't want to kill the other one! "
Renée: "I did worse, I gave her hope ..."
Renée: "Pierre, in two days your dismissal will be signed, where will you go?" If I do not listen to people, if I persist in verses and against all! Perhaps it is out of selfishness ...
Pierre, I need you… ”
Pierre the lover: "You think, you think we could live together? To be happy together? "
Renée: "I'm sure of it! "
Peter the lover: "As before? "
Renée: “As before! Do you have remorse? Well, I have no remorse… I don't regret that you fled! I don't regret being alive! Dare to tell me to my face, I'm sorry to have missed you! So dare! You see that we can relive together! " Cafe boss: "At what time did you have an appointment?" "
Renée: "After the ball"
Cafe boss: "I hope this time you won't come back and kill yourself at 16… Huh!" Are you going to get married ? Of course, finally ... A good marriage is better than a bad suicide! ... "
The Cafe Owner's wife: "What are you telling him!" "
Cafe boss: “Nothing! These are the words of July 14, what do you say Renée? ... "
The Patron de Café's wife: "My little Renée, when you leave, don't say goodbye, pretend you're going for an errand… That way, the roofer and me, we can always believe that you'll be back for a while to the other… We like you! Well, it's usual. " Cafe boss: "It's as if tomorrow when I come back here, I can't find my zing anymore !" I would miss it, well, we will miss you too! Ah there … ”
Robert: “It's beautiful, we meet in music! He went out ? Huh? he had a dismissal? That's it ? Huh? He went out ? "
Renée: “This morning! "
Robert: "Did you see him again?" No ? Are you going to see him again? "
Renée: “Yes, after! "
Robert: “After what? "
Renée: “After the ball! "
Robert: "Is he waiting for you?" "
Renée: “Yes. "
Robert: “He's lucky! Renée, I thank you for giving me, like that, spending three days of your life… ”
Renée: “There is something like that to believe! I didn't lie to you, when I asked you to take me, I really intended to go all the way… ”
Robert: “I'm sure of it! The two of us weren't very far, but you still showed me the country! No harm done… "
Renée: "Aren't you going to go up to your room?" "
Robert: “Why? "
Renée: “Two men waiting! Raymonde told them who you are! "
Robert: “Oh yes! To God Renée! "
Renée: "To God"
Robert: “I told you my name is Robert! "
Renée: "To God, Robert"
Renée: "The day is breaking, the weather will be fine ...". “Come on now, it's over…”.
Peter the lover: "What of which? .”
Renée: "The hotel du Nord" ...
End ... (Music ...)
"Real life, life finally discovered and clarified, the only life, consequently, really lived, this life which, in a sense, lives at all times in all men as well as in the artist. But they do not see, because they do not seek to clarify it. And thus their past is cluttered with innumerable stereotypes which remain useless because the intelligence did not "develop" them. Re-enter our life; and also the life of style, for the writer as well as for the painter, is a question not of technique, but of vision. It is the revelation, which would be impossible by direct and conscious means, of the qualitative difference that it. There is in the way in which the world appears to us, a difference which, if there were not art, would remain the eternal secret of each one. By art alone, we can get out of ourselves, know what a person sees. Other of this universe which is not the same as ours and whose landscapes we will be remained as unknown as there may be in the moon. Thanks to art, instead of seeing a single world, ours, we see it multiply, and as many as there are original artists, as many we have worlds at our disposal, more different from each other that those who roll in the infinite, and who for many centuries after the fire from which they emanated is extinguished, whether it be called Rembrandt or Vermeer , send us their special ray. "
Marcel Proust
Recovered time