Gare d’Osnabrück à Jérusalem

De Hélène Cixous. Elle est géniale, ma première copine s’appelait Hélène. Elle s’appelle toujours Hélène, j’imagine. 

Perhaps the thing I love the most about Hélène is she just doesn’t care if I can read German or not. I swoon when she writes, so I just read German, English, French. I don’t understand everything but I like the sounds in my head. She uses words as I use paint, both as representative symbols and material (made up of letters and sounds, brush stokes and colour). I should really paint her a postcard and ask her out for coffee.  

Support Surface always gets on my nerves. Perhaps because I was taught by people who prayed at that temple perhaps because every time  I become playful its hydra like head creeps into the canvas. What grates me in their work is that they are too illustrative of their ideas. That’s where Jimmy Joyce, B.S. Johnson, Réjean Ducharme and Hélène Cixous come in, I see the slight of hand but I want to believe. That’s what I think good painting is : a trick you want to believe in.

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