I fell over into the world of painting in 2004 after seeing the mosaics of Jean-Paul Riopelle; they made me understand the power to touch and thrill that colour and material have when combined. With humility, but not devoid of fervour, I also decided to take the brush and the spatula. What this would give birth to, I ignored, but I knew it would give a new voice to my artistic creativity, which was already expressed through words.

I fell over into the world of painting in 2004 after seeing the mosaics of Jean-Paul Riopelle; they made me understand the power to touch and thrill that colour and material have when combined. With humility, but not devoid of fervour, I also decided to take the brush and the spatula. What this would give birth to, I ignored, but I knew it would give a new voice to my artistic creativity, which was already expressed through words.

No matter the medium, acrylic, ink, gouache, water-colour, charcoal or pencils, I create universes that oscillate between abstraction and figuration, and where contrasts dominate. I provoke these contrasts by the contiguousness of colours and textures, that I obtain by applying paint with my fingers or my hands, or with any object that will speak in its own way. Although evocative shapes may eventually emerge, I do not strive to make them realistic, leaving it to the viewer whether to give them meaning.

My approach is more sensitive than intellectual: it relies primarily on intuition and experimentation. Because I give a prominent place to accident, I give free rein to my hand, and, through it, explore my subconscious. However, my approach also involves analysis and reflection, as some of my gestures are calculated: though I let myself be guided by what arises during my improvisations, I then consciously compose the painting through observation of my work.

I find my inspiration mainly in the raw material: the texture of a bark, the veins of a leaf, the interlacing of roots, the roughness of a stone, or, on the contrary, its softness. Weathered objects inspire me too: a decrepit building, a fissured concrete wall, a porous and textured ceramic, rusty metal. All these things awaken the urge to create, to plunge my hands into the material, to bring out something that elicits the four elements and the passage of time. Like the followers of the Japanese aesthetic concept wabi-sabi, I perceive the beauty of imperfect things, and it is their poetry that I attempt to reveal in my paintings.

No matter the medium, acrylic, ink, gouache, water-colour, charcoal or pencils, I create universes that oscillate between abstraction and figuration, and where contrasts dominate. I provoke these contrasts by the contiguousness of colours and textures, that I obtain by applying paint with my fingers or my hands, or with any object that will speak in its own way. Although evocative shapes may eventually emerge, I do not strive to make them realistic, leaving it to the viewer whether to give them meaning.

My approach is more sensitive than intellectual: it relies primarily on intuition and experimentation. Because I give a prominent place to accident, I give free rein to my hand, and, through it, explore my subconscious. However, my approach also involves analysis and reflection, as some of my gestures are calculated: though I let myself be guided by what arises during my improvisations, I then consciously compose the painting through observation of my work.

I find my inspiration mainly in the raw material: the texture of a bark, the veins of a leaf, the interlacing of roots, the roughness of a stone, or, on the contrary, its softness. Weathered objects inspire me too: a decrepit building, a fissured concrete wall, a porous and textured ceramic, rusty metal. All these things awaken the urge to create, to plunge my hands into the material, to bring out something that elicits the four elements and the passage of time. Like the followers of the Japanese aesthetic concept wabi-sabi, I perceive the beauty of imperfect things, and it is their poetry that I attempt to reveal in my paintings.