Extemporaneous portraits

In a golden sunset, the young man looks at life. He does not know many things, but his expectation is immense. He is absolutely sure that very good things are about to happen, that his participation in this game is of the utmost importance, decisive indeed. This young man does not die. I saw him in the eyes of an old man. He was still there. The gold of twilight is the projection of his soul.

They say we are social beings. But we are also lonely hearts (Sergeant Peppers already said). Find a friend, a real friend, is something to celebrate. Someone who knows how you are, who knows how annoying you are, and still likes you. Even if they come from different paths, from different places, from different families, friends find an identity and the world ceases to be a surrealist place and becomes familiar. The world becomes personal.

Do you know those moments when we are haunted by simply being there? Who are we? Why are we this singular person? And even the most prosaic things seem to receive a murmur of mystery. Maybe that's why this drawing came out like this ... a strange diagonal composition. For this person is not thinking about a delayed account. He is amazed to live in a place within a city, which is within a country, which is within a continent, which is within a planet, which is within a galaxy, which is within an infinite universe.

The young man with the big eyes looks at what? Perhaps wondering what to do next day (it will surely be a Saturday!., Or remembering something that happened, a very intense experience that can only be represented by big eyes. I also think that these big eyes want to absorb everything, they want to absorb their whole life in a look. We've all had this look some day. Or am I mistaken?

She may be happy because of the starry night. Or because you're seeing someone you know come. Or because he came to his village after a long time. Or for any other reason. What matters? His joy communicates to the little bird. And I was not happy when I drew her. I was not sad either. I was just concentrating on drawing. So it was she who brought that joy. Which I found to be excellent.

He is an abstract artist. His sculptures, as you can see in the background, are almost geometric forms. They are signs of something formal. As I have always been a figurative artist, I am amazed at the ability to create abstract forms. Anyway, our friend sculptor is a figure and not an abstraction. And I had great pleasure in drawing his angular face. (It seems like they're getting a bit like his work).

Sometimes this man seems sad to me. But he may just be worried. I swear I did not want to make him so worried.! It just came out like this and I let myself go. It must be serious for him not to smile at being portrayed. The little lizard, however, seems happy. After all, animals are always in their element. And we're always trying to locate ourselves, are not we?

The purple man and his cat also purple in the purple landscape. Why did everything turn so purple? Well, I like the color. But it was not just a chromatic preference. When I did the pencil drawing, I still had no idea it was going to make everything so purple. But when working in the digital program, this color emerged, in an authoritarian way, as if it had a life of its own. The little orange fruits and the light green were my personal revolt against this purple tyranny. Well, anyway, I ended up enjoying a certain depth that work would not have if it were too colorful.

As the sun sets in that village, the girl looks not toward the west, but into herself. Any memories? Some internal questioning? I do not know. The enigma of the look is enough for me. Let us therefore respect her twilight privacy.

This woman seems confident in herself or in her work. In drawing the silhouette of those sculptures in the background, she seemed to me to be the curator of some museum. Certainly a postmodern person.