Why Paint ?

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In my book, Bastard Tongues, I touch upon the exercise of writing, and what it means to me. The sketches you find in the book however, are not there by mistake or  for fear of the white paper. Silence is a friend. 

Tonight I would like to further explain:

Why paint?

To me painting is another form of writing. Its Alphabet less consensual.

My allegiance to the written word does not suffer from what I paint, and is exalted by what I sing. I aim to be One.

But if painting is another form of writing, it is most importantly, a better way of reading… deeply, with all ones senses.

Indeed, never have I understood Light, until I tried to render it on canvas.

Never did I really fathom the beauty of a man’s eyes, until I tried to replicate their colour or shape.

Or the impact of his laugh until I tried to draw his lips…

If you want to get Nietzsche, try to draw Zarathustra’s animals,  try to reproduce Descartes molten candle…  Drawing life, makes you aware of its every detail.

Now eyes wide open…. Write

DS