Je suis dans la peau d’un peintre atteint d’achromatie. Le noir peuplant le blanc de sa dentelle grise. Parfois, je me réveille, j’ouvre les yeux… Les couleurs deviennent qu’un cri brulant, une violence animée… juste faire rhizome avec la vie… et bientôt plus de rouge, plus de vert, qu’un trait filant vers le dehors.
I was born of a mixture of colors with black and white photos. I am an artist suffering from achromatic. Sometimes, I wake up, and I open my eyes... The colors are still a " burning" scream, just a violent scene... just to be there. ... no more red, no more green, only a line going out.
Forget!
I was born of a mixture of colors with black and white photos. I am an artist suffering from achromatic. Sometimes, I wake up, and I open my eyes... The colors are still a " burning" scream, just a violent scene... just to be there. ... no more red, no more green, only a line going out.
Forget!