It is hard for me to go on with two blogs. But I really want to connect with people who don’t speack french and could be interested by what I do and share with me what they do. I started very fast just having this amazing creativity and inspiration. Barely sleeping and even in my dreams, painting and sketching. And last week, I had a problem with my computer, my smartphone and my health. Nothing seemed to work fine. Clearly the message was to pause for a moment. Even painting became forced and painful. So I surrendered.
I decided then to stop and smell the roses. As it is still winter, I would say I would just go for a walk and observe my little world. I started a new research about my nubian roots. It is not as easy at it seems for somebody like me who has been raised in a very occidental way. I don’t really have an idea of what african roots can be doing to one’s art. What it should bring to it. By I know that I won’t let myself be dragged into artificial africanism even if it could be great. For me what we can see that has been done with wax or other tagged “african textile” smells like the idea people have about a “cool Africa”. That goes with the hair style, the beeds, the cool music and the spicy food. But Africa is not a dead corpse rotting in a sarcophagus. It is alive and it evolves. But Africa is not cool. It is rough. Mama Africa takes no prisoner. She slays. That’s why she is so fascinating. Basking into her mystery is a privilege no bright shouting and chaotic colors has been able to capture yet. Mama Africa is a godess warior who survided slavery, colonialism, horrible laboratories’diseases, poverty and robbery.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to bring this through my art. But I know that I have to get away from any pre-mashed idea. I have to listen to her.