The sounds of life and the silence of my workshop made me appreciate colours and inspired me to paint. (I am a painter. An artist).
I have a gift for painting and colours. Indeed, it is a gift, which helps me paint the pictures of my dreams and my travels on canvas. Fruit grow through the motions of my work. There are musical notes and stories on my paintings.
The style of drawing and the material are sometimes an arid territory in a land of tattooed rocks. My travels in the world of Art are a secret that I share with my paintings. I use their surface to engrave words and anecdotes gleaned together in my college years. During my studies in art schools, I have seen professors questioning themselves about the history of art.
The journey was long before I found my own way of painting to fill the canvas forever hereafter.
This gave birth to paintings entitled “Le Livre du silence” (The Book of silence), “Les Écrits des terres lointaines” (Writing from distant lands), “Le Talisman” (The Talisman), “Les Pierres tatouées” (Tattooed rocks)...
The colours settle down on my palette and new stories spread out on my canvas. Blue juggles with the childhood readings. Yellow covers the distant horizon. Red underlines words. Green sings with musical notes. The other colours hold hands and dance with the butterflies with tattooed wings. A gentle light caresses the mountain, which keeps gold and jewel in its stomach.
The colours have sounds... Sometimes they are misery and bitter tears on the way toward exile. They are an inheritance for people who leave for countries of other people.
They are destiny in a better world. Painting in the morning is powerful. The colours are sweet and salty.
Sketching as well as the colours are flashbacks to my childhood and help me stifle the fire, that burns life. I am the heir of all the raconteur people, who glean words, stories and hues here and there.
M A D A N I
