It all started eighteen years ago. Finally I would be able to realise my dream. Everything would become more beautiful, different. I plunged into a yawning gulf filled with contradicting alchemism: the perishable and the irrevocable, the raw reality and the nostalgia, the window-puppets, the years of adolescence, the light of the ‘Luberon’, magic powers of photography. An explosive mixture, an inexhaustible treasure of metaphors was waiting there for me. And yet, hardly had I begun, or the thought of ending it all had already crossed my mind. After ‘le Temps des Mannequins’, ‘la Chambre d’Amour’ and after ‘Les Idoles’ I would be able to close a perfect universe. But in the background, the subtle play of metaphors was secretly entering different thoughts into my head, the idea to destroy this frail structure of myth, to enjoy what is left after all is accomplished.
‘La Fin de l’Image closes the circle, it encloses the pleasure of showing as well as the desire to understand, it returns the word to the creature which gave birth to it. Our lost adolescence, forever lasting, the principle of all nostalgia. Little truths, written directly on skin, reduced to zero, smooth, pale, mocking the impossible, which –how serene at first- are now explaining in an almost hilarious way: “Well that was it! Nothing lost, because all was already past”
text printed with permission of the publishers of La Fin de l’Image:
William Blake and co.
B.P. 34 - 33037 Bordeaux, France
links: website
critical texts
book: 'la Fin de l'Image'
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