EDEN or not
Haaaa The garden,
this space defines, infinite,
this place where I come to find my artistic time,
that of creation.
When human life draws me into other rhythms and urges me to act in this or that way,
That of the garden imposes on me that of the Cosmos.
It calms me and it soothes me.
I come to deposit my excess of human emotions there.
In the hollows of the trees lie my greatest sorrows.
Nature is generous, it asks for nothing in return,
It absorbs, it transforms, it oxygenates, it regenerates.
If I find a river there I gladly lie down in its bed,
If it's a pool I dive into it until I reach its bottom.
In the city
They are often public,
Trees, sometimes centuries old, are present there.
I know some of them more than others.
With these I sometimes find refuge.
To the rhythm of the seasons and the blooms,
I come to greet them.
If it's a gardener's garden,
I glean there the fruits of another thought,
Sometimes from another era
Or unknown territories.
These imagined places are in my eyes potential spaces,
Poetic or infernal playgrounds.
Attempt to bring order to a Universe that always escapes us,
Sketch of a link between origin and evolution
When I photograph a garden,
It is the perspectives drawn by the gardener that guide my frame.
The plants, the animals, the inhabitants who impose the distance on me and dictate the focal length.
The light that tells me when to come back to see better the hidden side of things.
It is the temperature that imprints in me the colors that later I will develop and apply like a modern painter on digital and paper media.
As for emotions,
Between calm and pleasure,
They create the accident that will start everything…
In the gardens of Arnaud MAURIÈRES and Eric OSSART, we don't go far in the paths!
The subject is thorny,
This generous nature is not offered without stinging a little,
To rest there I will have to show my credentials,
Once you enter into the perspectives, everything is better, you can see their purpose more clearly.
And that’s not nothing!
In my real garden is my most secret garden,
my search for Harmony.
space in permanent movement,
metaphor and Utopia of a man who like the restlessness of the soul
can never completely rest on its laurels...
within a garden.
Ana BLOOM
