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Nepalese wood carrier at the monkey bridge
“We are approaching Phakding in the Everest Valley on our way back. Our trek of over 200kms is coming to an end and ahead of us, to cross that last monkey bridge, a porter loaded with a ‘mountain’ of wood waits patiently for the yaks crossing in his direction to reach our side. He is […]
The Flying Squirrel
The cottage ‘Les Écureuils’ was missing a little touch of paint, so I chose this little flying animal to decorate the entrance to this cosy little nest in a slightly different way.(Acrylic on canvas: Ecureuil Volant 75×100). Fabien Raveton The flying squirrel (or Pteromyini) is a family of rodents. They are known for their ability […]
Young seated monk
“We leave Ta Prohm, its sprawling kapok trees swallowing up the temples, to cross paths with some villagers in the heart of remote locations. Perched in his hut on stilts, a young monk in a toga lets the time and the burning sun of this dry season escape. The golden hour turns orange. The rays […]
Smile of the Angel II
“Angkor Wat Temple, Cambodia. The sun disappears behind the sprawling cheese trees. An exchange of glances, a smile, the woman bowed by the weight of years absorbs me in the orange hour. The lens captures the memory of this unique moment. Back in my makeshift studio, with my feverish brush I caress the canvas on […]
A little corner of happiness
“In the interstice of a distended leather corner, a forgotten project of an old grimoire with leather corners whose title in gilded letters would have been erased by time and mould, slipped the four-leaf clover of joyful superstition.”
A la chandelle
“Under the soft glow of the candle, the muse reveals her lines and her modesty
Angel’s smile I
“Angkor Wat temple, Cambodia. The sun disappears behind the sprawling cheese trees. An exchange of glances, a smile, the woman bowed by the weight of years absorbs me in the orange hour. The lens captures the memory of this unique moment. Back in my makeshift studio, with my brush feverishly brushing the canvas on a […]
Pushing my limits
“Since childhood, we have sought to push back, timidly or violently, the boundaries of our upbringing, to defy the forbidden, to question these bridles of self-righteousness.”
Muse in daybed
“The tropical heat of a torrid South-East Asian afternoon, geckos skimming the walls, cicadas cymbalising, a light breeze lightening the soothing hours of heavy air. My muse relaxes and I sketch her.”
The e-reader
“The eyelids become heavy, the hand falters, the words fade, the reader falls asleep on her book and strolls into the world of the novel.”
Extended Muse
“Back from my travels, needing peace and quiet, far from airports and the frenzy of my trans-Asian-Pacific job, I throw my brush into a handful of simple strokes.”
The naive genesis of a giddy scribbler
“One day, while we were having dinner at the home of some wealthy friends overjoyed to have acquired a canvas by a renowned master. This very large oil on canvas sat in the middle of a vast white wall. No oil pigments, just white, white on white. A low-angled white light highlights some discreet dark […]
To be discovered if you have a minute...