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Description

[ENG]
(Feel free to share or comment, thank you again for your support!)
Here is the latest artwork I created : “- FAE -”
- PRINTS available -

Mixed media : Graphite, Gold leaf (24k, lemon and rose), oxidized Silver leaf, Silver leaf and hydrangeas petals on Arches paper.
The apples of the frame are in relief.
- 19,7/27,5" - 50/70cm -
Model : Psyché Ophiuchus

This piece will be part of the show “Arc Visions”, in the Arcadia Gallery , Pasadena (CA)
February 16th – March 2nd , 2019
The artwork will be framed with a black and gold casetta with pastiglia created by The Batican .

“Fae” is a tribute to the old European forests, to the ancient magic of Celtic mythology, to the novels of the Middle Ages.
My new homage to the Sidh, to all the doors that open on the “Merveilleux” and on the Symbol.

To Psyché, the fairy I met in the woods, the bride of this season.

“Through the deep night a magic mist led me
like a simpleton roaming the land,
no friends of my bosom beside me,
an outcast in places unknown.
I stretched out dejected and tearful
in a nut-sheltered wood all alone
and prayed to the bright King of Glory
with"Mercy!” alone on my lips.

My heart, I declare, full of turmoil
in that wood with no human sound nigh,
the thrush’s sweet voice the sole pleasure,
ever singing its tune on each bough.
Then a noble sidh-girl sat beside me
like a saint in her figure and form:
in her countenance roses contended
with white - and I know not which lost.

Furrowed thick, yellow-twisting and golden
was the lady’s hair down to her shoes,
her brows without flaw, and like amber
her luring eye, death to the brave.
Sweet, lovely, delicious - pure music -
the harp-notes of the sidh from her lips,
breasts rounded, smooth, chalk-white, most proper,
never marred by another, I swear.

Though lost to myself till that moment,
with love for the lady I throbbed
and I found myself filled with great pleasure
that she was directed my way.
How it fell, I write out in these verses,
how I let my lips speak unrestrained,
the sweet things that I told the fair maiden
as we stretched on the green mountain-slope:

‘Are you, languid-eyed lady who pierced me
with love for your face and your form,
the Fair-One caused hordes to be slaughtered
as they write in the Battle of Troy?
Or the mild royal girl who let languish
the chief of Boru and his troop?
Or the queen who decreed that the great prince
from Howth follow far in pursuit?

Delicious, sweet, tender, she answered
ever shedding tears down in her pain:
'I am none of those women you speak of,
and I see that you don’t know my clan.
I’m the bride wed in bliss for a season,
under right royal rule, to the King
over Caideal of Conn and of Eoghan
who ruled undisputed o'er Fódla1"

1 Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin, A Magic Mist, translated by Thomas Kinsella

_____________________________
[FR]
(N'hésitez pas à partager ou commenter, merci encore pour votre soutien!)
Voici la dernière pièce que j'ai créée: “- FAE -”
(La pièce est disponible, n'hésitez pas à me contacter pour vous renseigner à ce sujet)

Technique mixte : graphite, feuille d'or (24k, citron et rose), feuille d'argent oxydée, feuille d'argent et pétales d'hortensias sur papier Arches.
Les pommes du cadre sont en relief.
- 19,7/27,5" - 50/70cm -
Modèle : Psyché Ophiuchus

Cette pièce fera partie de l'exposition “Arc Visions”, dans la prestigieuse galerie Arcadia, Pasadena (CA)
16 février - 2 mars 2019
L'œuvre sera encadrée d'une “casetta” noire et dorée avec pastiglia créée par The Batican.

“Fae” est un hommage aux vieilles forêts européennes, à l'ancienne magie de la mythologie celtique, aux romans du Moyen Âge.
Mon nouvel hommage au Sidh, à toutes les portes qui s'ouvrent sur le Merveilleux et sur le Symbole.
À Psyché, la fée que j'ai rencontrée dans les bois, la mariée de cette saison.

“Through the deep night a magic mist led me
like a simpleton roaming the land,
no friends of my bosom beside me,
an outcast in places unknown.
I stretched out dejected and tearful
in a nut-sheltered wood all alone
and prayed to the bright King of Glory
with"Mercy!” alone on my lips.

My heart, I declare, full of turmoil
in that wood with no human sound nigh,
the thrush’s sweet voice the sole pleasure,
ever singing its tune on each bough.
Then a noble sidh-girl sat beside me
like a saint in her figure and form:
in her countenance roses contended
with white - and I know not which lost.

Furrowed thick, yellow-twisting and golden
was the lady’s hair down to her shoes,
her brows without flaw, and like amber
her luring eye, death to the brave.
Sweet, lovely, delicious - pure music -
the harp-notes of the sidh from her lips,
breasts rounded, smooth, chalk-white, most proper,
never marred by another, I swear.

Though lost to myself till that moment,
with love for the lady I throbbed
and I found myself filled with great pleasure
that she was directed my way.
How it fell, I write out in these verses,
how I let my lips speak unrestrained,
the sweet things that I told the fair maiden
as we stretched on the green mountain-slope:

'Are you, languid-eyed lady who pierced me
with love for your face and your form,
the Fair-One caused hordes to be slaughtered
as they write in the Battle of Troy?
Or the mild royal girl who let languish
the chief of Boru and his troop?
Or the queen who decreed that the great prince
from Howth follow far in pursuit?

Delicious, sweet, tender, she answered
ever shedding tears down in her pain:
'I am none of those women you speak of,
and I see that you don’t know my clan.
I’m the bride wed in bliss for a season,
under right royal rule, to the King
over Caideal of Conn and of Eoghan
who ruled undisputed o'er Fódla1"

1 Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin, A Magic Mist, translated by Thomas Kinsella

Description

[ENG]
(Feel free to share or comment, thank you again for your support!)
Here is the latest artwork I created : “- FAE -”
- PRINTS available -

Mixed media : Graphite, Gold leaf (24k, lemon and rose), oxidized Silver leaf, Silver leaf and hydrangeas petals on Arches paper.
The apples of the frame are in relief.
- 19,7/27,5" - 50/70cm -
Model : Psyché Ophiuchus

This piece will be part of the show “Arc Visions”, in the Arcadia Gallery , Pasadena (CA)
February 16th – March 2nd , 2019
The artwork will be framed with a black and gold casetta with pastiglia created by The Batican .

“Fae” is a tribute to the old European forests, to the ancient magic of Celtic mythology, to the novels of the Middle Ages.
My new homage to the Sidh, to all the doors that open on the “Merveilleux” and on the Symbol.

To Psyché, the fairy I met in the woods, the bride of this season.

“Through the deep night a magic mist led me
like a simpleton roaming the land,
no friends of my bosom beside me,
an outcast in places unknown.
I stretched out dejected and tearful
in a nut-sheltered wood all alone
and prayed to the bright King of Glory
with"Mercy!” alone on my lips.

My heart, I declare, full of turmoil
in that wood with no human sound nigh,
the thrush’s sweet voice the sole pleasure,
ever singing its tune on each bough.
Then a noble sidh-girl sat beside me
like a saint in her figure and form:
in her countenance roses contended
with white - and I know not which lost.

Furrowed thick, yellow-twisting and golden
was the lady’s hair down to her shoes,
her brows without flaw, and like amber
her luring eye, death to the brave.
Sweet, lovely, delicious - pure music -
the harp-notes of the sidh from her lips,
breasts rounded, smooth, chalk-white, most proper,
never marred by another, I swear.

Though lost to myself till that moment,
with love for the lady I throbbed
and I found myself filled with great pleasure
that she was directed my way.
How it fell, I write out in these verses,
how I let my lips speak unrestrained,
the sweet things that I told the fair maiden
as we stretched on the green mountain-slope:

‘Are you, languid-eyed lady who pierced me
with love for your face and your form,
the Fair-One caused hordes to be slaughtered
as they write in the Battle of Troy?
Or the mild royal girl who let languish
the chief of Boru and his troop?
Or the queen who decreed that the great prince
from Howth follow far in pursuit?

Delicious, sweet, tender, she answered
ever shedding tears down in her pain:
'I am none of those women you speak of,
and I see that you don’t know my clan.
I’m the bride wed in bliss for a season,
under right royal rule, to the King
over Caideal of Conn and of Eoghan
who ruled undisputed o'er Fódla1"

1 Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin, A Magic Mist, translated by Thomas Kinsella

_____________________________
[FR]
(N'hésitez pas à partager ou commenter, merci encore pour votre soutien!)
Voici la dernière pièce que j'ai créée: “- FAE -”
(La pièce est disponible, n'hésitez pas à me contacter pour vous renseigner à ce sujet)

Technique mixte : graphite, feuille d'or (24k, citron et rose), feuille d'argent oxydée, feuille d'argent et pétales d'hortensias sur papier Arches.
Les pommes du cadre sont en relief.
- 19,7/27,5" - 50/70cm -
Modèle : Psyché Ophiuchus

Cette pièce fera partie de l'exposition “Arc Visions”, dans la prestigieuse galerie Arcadia, Pasadena (CA)
16 février - 2 mars 2019
L'œuvre sera encadrée d'une “casetta” noire et dorée avec pastiglia créée par The Batican.

“Fae” est un hommage aux vieilles forêts européennes, à l'ancienne magie de la mythologie celtique, aux romans du Moyen Âge.
Mon nouvel hommage au Sidh, à toutes les portes qui s'ouvrent sur le Merveilleux et sur le Symbole.
À Psyché, la fée que j'ai rencontrée dans les bois, la mariée de cette saison.

“Through the deep night a magic mist led me
like a simpleton roaming the land,
no friends of my bosom beside me,
an outcast in places unknown.
I stretched out dejected and tearful
in a nut-sheltered wood all alone
and prayed to the bright King of Glory
with"Mercy!” alone on my lips.

My heart, I declare, full of turmoil
in that wood with no human sound nigh,
the thrush’s sweet voice the sole pleasure,
ever singing its tune on each bough.
Then a noble sidh-girl sat beside me
like a saint in her figure and form:
in her countenance roses contended
with white - and I know not which lost.

Furrowed thick, yellow-twisting and golden
was the lady’s hair down to her shoes,
her brows without flaw, and like amber
her luring eye, death to the brave.
Sweet, lovely, delicious - pure music -
the harp-notes of the sidh from her lips,
breasts rounded, smooth, chalk-white, most proper,
never marred by another, I swear.

Though lost to myself till that moment,
with love for the lady I throbbed
and I found myself filled with great pleasure
that she was directed my way.
How it fell, I write out in these verses,
how I let my lips speak unrestrained,
the sweet things that I told the fair maiden
as we stretched on the green mountain-slope:

'Are you, languid-eyed lady who pierced me
with love for your face and your form,
the Fair-One caused hordes to be slaughtered
as they write in the Battle of Troy?
Or the mild royal girl who let languish
the chief of Boru and his troop?
Or the queen who decreed that the great prince
from Howth follow far in pursuit?

Delicious, sweet, tender, she answered
ever shedding tears down in her pain:
'I am none of those women you speak of,
and I see that you don’t know my clan.
I’m the bride wed in bliss for a season,
under right royal rule, to the King
over Caideal of Conn and of Eoghan
who ruled undisputed o'er Fódla1"

1 Eoghan Rua Ó Súilleabháin, A Magic Mist, translated by Thomas Kinsella