Poète noir, un sein de pucelle te hante, poète aigri, la vie bout et la ville brûle, et le ciel résorbe en pluie, ta plume gratte au cœur de la vie. ….. Les yeux ragent, les langues tournent le ciel afflue dans les narines comme un lait nourricier et bleu; …… Antonin Artaud in poète noir

Nothing Gold Can Stay By Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf’s a flower; But only so an hour. Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.

Botanica - layers of your heart (2026) mixed media Photographed something like 2 years ago and just finished editing. The withering and decomposing Amaryllis started looking like novel creatures coming to life. There may be a distant visual link to the Fall of the Damned from Rubens (1620), no?

We had been working with hydrangeas many times, creating gardens inside the studio. These were huge, like fireworks exploding in all directions. Impossible to control, an organic experience like melting into a giant octopus. In search for Hokusai / 2023 / collab with @mindflowergarden.bsky.social

Just a detail of a larger work in the making from the ongoing series of transient topography- fleeting gardens. Started this one in 2020 and now, hopefully, maybe, closer to the finishing line. Named it after Pyramus and Thisbe, tragic precursors of Romeo and Juliet.