Gamatron: Sacred Heart

Like the fool I am, I wander with my little pouch. In my little pouch filled with a book and a few pencils, the pages always waited for me to come back to them. I used o dream of being a painter, until I realized that I already am a painter. I thought that the words laid on the whitness of the page would always be for me, and only me, like my secret world.

During my university years, the ink jumped from the small notebooks to the printing format. I was now giving life to larger and more beautiful paper. Still not being happy to be locked up in a small box, the images escaped again. They moved to canvas of which I could choose any size called by the painting. Finally, for their last and final escape, the colors moved to the walls and various pieces of fabric I could find. They seem happy on the walls, giving pleasure to random passer byes, surprised to see a flower, a mexican god or a buddha where they were least expected.

On textile, they are eazy to travel with, and I can pull an entire world out of my little fool's pouch.Being in various parts of the world, I enjoy studying and painting the local mythologies. I especially enjoy mixing ancient and new images which the stories take through the passing of time.

Last year, while in Goa, the Sacred Heart, which had been in my mind for a few years, asked to finally get out of my mind. As the cerebral type that I am, I use concepts to avoid facing reality. I was told many times that I have to start working from the heart. Goa's many catholic images mixed with a spicy sauce of hindouism inspired me to do that work. If reality is still as blurry of an idea as it ever was, I still enjoy my favorite science fiction writer's definition of it.
As PK Dick wrote: "reality is what's left over after you stop believing in it."

Buddhism being a later development of hinduist thinking, as protestant is of catholism, I also borrowed a few buddhist symbols.The result was the begining of my Sacred Heart series which you can see on this page. The paintings are about the size of a door, more or less. On most paintings, I write a word that I meditate on. 3 years between India and Nepal gave me the occasion to study the Devanagari script. Being an easy and beautiful script to learn, I went further to learn a bit of nepale.

It was a pleasure to write sanskrit words on the Sacred Heart series, such as "maya" which is illusion and love, and "dayeta" which means patience.The series is not finished, as the heart still has many stories to tell me. Thanks to all the white pages for listening and being there to share the stories, so that others can enjoy them.

Until the ink or the pixels wash away, for the next white page to be filled...

"If I have learned one thing about life, I could resume it in 3 words: life goes on" Robert Frost.

Text also available here.


Sacred Heart "If you want to paint, close your eyes and dance" Picasso. Since I can remember, I always kept a notebook. Mixed with scribbles and sentences, my diaries were my peace of mind, my breath of fresh air. The white page was my companion, my best friend, the one to go to when all else seemed like a galaxy aways. The white page was always there for me. It understood me in silence, listening and watching everything I needed to share. The pages got ripped to pieces, they got burned, and always they stayed taking all the abuse that the mind is capable of. But mostly, the pages got loved, they were cherished above everything else. They traveled everywhere, quiet and blank in my little bag. Then I started mixing words and images, until I realized that they were one and the same. Words and images maybe having diferent properties, but never the less, they come from the same space. As the years passed, the notebooks changed. Squares, rectangles, canson or cheap and brown paper, leather bound, or spiraling, the clothes of the pages evolved with my moods. But once inside, once the clothes taken of, my old lover was still the same, a naked white page waiting to be set to life by my scribbles. As faithful as ever, the blank page waited. I work by series. Sometimes series spend years living in my head before they are ready to come out. Other times, the series come to me and ask me to be taken out of ether. Each series is a meditation, and it stops when the meditation is over with. In the 1900's, the portugese came for a visit to Goa. They left after a short stay, and behind them was the seed for the catholism of today's Goa. Jesus is everywhere. He washes your clothes 100% white, he owns guest houses with Santa Maria, he serves you fish on the beach. He gets treated as any respected hindu god would, with the proper marygold flower strands, the pujas, the singing. In Goa, Jesus is part of life, as any good hindu god is. If gods can change faces like fashion in a supermarket, the rituals that locals use to reach them take a much longer time to change. Enjoying the coconut mixing bowl spices, I decided to mix the Sacred Heart with hinduism. Finding the dress of the indian women to be a treat to the eye, I chose to finish the paintings by framing them with the intricate bands of shiny textiles that the indian women use on the sari (the traditional dress of the married woman).	Like the fool I am, I wander with my little pouch. In my little pouch filled with a book and a few pencils, the pages always waited for me to come back to them. I used o dream of being a painter, until I realized that I already am a painter. I thought that the words laid on the whitness of the page would always be for me, and only me, like my secret world. During my university years, the ink jumped from the small notebooks to the printing format. I was now giving life to larger and more beautiful paper. Still not being happy to be locked up in a small box, the images escaped again. They moved to canvas of which I could choose any size called by the painting. Finally, for their last and final escape, the colors moved to the walls and various pieces of fabric I could find. They seem happy on the walls, giving pleasure to random passer byes, surprised to see a flower, a mexican god or a buddha where they were least expected. On textile, they are eazy to travel with, and I can pull an entire world out of my little fool's pouch.Being in various parts of the world, I enjoy studying and painting the local mythologies. I especially enjoy mixing ancient and new images which the stories take through the passing of time. Last year, while in Goa, the Sacred Heart, which had been in my mind for a few years, asked to finally get out of my mind. As the cerebral type that I am, I use concepts to avoid facing reality. I was told many times that I have to start working from the heart. Goa's many catholic images mixed with a spicy sauce of hindouism inspired me to do that work. If reality is still as blurry of an idea as it ever was, I still enjoy my favorite science fiction writer's definition of it. As PK Dick wrote: "reality is what's left over after you stop believing in it." Buddhism being a later development of hinduist thinking, as protestant is of catholism, I also borrowed a few buddhist symbols.The result was the begining of my Sacred Heart series which you can see on this page. The paintings are about the size of a door, more or less. On most paintings, I write a word that I meditate on. 3 years between India and Nepal gave me the occasion to study the Devanagari script. Being an easy and beautiful script to learn, I went further to learn a bit of nepale. It was a pleasure to write sanskrit words on the Sacred Heart series, such as "maya" which is illusion and love, and "dayeta" which means patience.The series is not finished, as the heart still has many stories to tell me. Thanks to all the white pages for listening and being there to share the stories, so that others can enjoy them. Until the ink or the pixels wash away, for the next white page to be filled... "If I have learned one thing about life, I could resume it in 3 words: life goes on" Robert Frost. Text also available here.