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Self-taught painter since 3years, I first learned of the acrylic and then discovered the area. Mortar and especially clay.
Clay. Compressed block in its plastic, coarse. I breeze, frees it breathes. I touch, the caress. Soft as velvet. I warmed up, the kneading, the triturated. She indulges me. Softened, she lives. I push the rolls, the sculpted leaves live between my fingers. Dips, bumps, curves together we are moving in osmosis. Acrylic and varnish sublime terrain of the area. The end result is all the more surprising. «Everyone sees what he wants and calls a silent dialogue with the painting» I love life, people, I am an Epicurean. I feel born to 50 years with my paintings. Cathy. |
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