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My left hand is my left eye, my canvas reflects in my
eyes...
Seeing is a way of touching to the remotest depths of our soul. Apart and away from our body...
Join me in my trip beyond the infinite, Beyond the presence of the
"organized" I can see.
Within the disorganized churning, I search for the illusion of the wise
creature I admire...
Whilst my eyes are translating my dreams, ''my left hand'' tells all...
I give way to my dreams. My hands are on the canvas. They are mirrors.
Between my hands on the canvas, there is a refined line of sensitivity.
My eyes are on my canvas...then spot an item in the air, and its
reflections in my eyes are transposed to my
canvas. This is when an eye goes into multi apertures depending on the
item's color, shape and appearance. The perception of this appearance can
be a visual premiere for me. That's why the
illusion of the item reflects to my and your eyes.
What my left hand does is to add touching to, whilst my eyes are capable
of seeing, is analogical to whipping one horse in riding two powerful
horse cart to an independent direction. The cart carries my
dreams/illusions.
I dream of birds in the depth of the ocean, AND of fish in the highest
sky. I see the color of the music and hear the music of color.
The color of life, birth and of the death all meet in me simultaneously.
My dreams sometimes draw me to the skies and to the depths at other
times.
And I take this trip of illusions on my canvas,
always with my music and the COLOR at the tip of my brush...
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