In his studio our painter friend has always shown us his artist treasures, his stores of beauty. Canvas upon canvas flowers children faces landscapes characters born out of his imagination trees in profusion, for a tree, what apotheosis! he paints it as seen in every season, houses taken from our tradition, grandiose scenes familiar scenes, scenes of prayer great works for great occasions.
But today for the first time, in supreme generosity, the painter has unveiled his palette, the palette of the year. For the first time he has let us enter his privacy, but with what discretion, with what speed, almost stealthily, for the palette belongs to his personal life.
At the edges a thick layer of colors one on the other, in the center the favorite theme of the year and the palette being this year devoted to the donkey, a lovely little donkey is seen having red poppies crowning his head.
Faithful witness of his cares and his stress,
companion of his strong emotions, the palette has so vibrated with the flashes of genius,
and in the moments of creation has so trembled with each invention, that bearing the imprint of this relation it has become almost alive and I would be a little surprised if the colors brought together began one day to germinate.
They would give rise to tall vegetation, to flowers, to hay and to thistles and this would be all so lush, so ravishing, so enticing, all these clusters, it would be so appetizing that the little donkey would be tempted, and if one day he felt hungry, he might start grazing.
(From the book “Filigranes”)