I grew up in a small town in the south of France. I lived a simple, rather poor, but pleasant life with my mother until I was sexually abused by a family member. This led to violent harassment by children in kindergarten and elementary school.
But at the age of 10 I was transcended by my first art class. Our art teacher made us discover Frida Kahlo, Leonardo da Vinci and Picasso.
The discovery of Frida was a real revelation for me.
She painted her sufferings, her emotions. She used the evil that happened to her to make something more beautiful. And this idea transported me emotionally. I understood that day that it was the art of painting that would save me.
Leonardo had become my technical reference and I was frantically copying all his works to get closer to what I thought was perfection, I still do it today.
Picasso made me understand that I could go beyond reality. I could deform bodies, to the beauty of the ugliness. To play with all the elements of the canvas. I understood that in painting the limits did not exist.
I still remember the scene. I was sitting on my chair in front of the class board and I literally said to myself that in life I would be a painter.
During my school years everything revolved around art. I started missing classes in high school and then also during my graduate studies in comic book illustration. In reality I was suffering from a post traumatic stress disorder. And it was impossible for me to have social connections. So I painted and worked alone at home.
Thinking I had dropped out of school, the principal threatened to expel me many times. But I think I surprised him when I graduated with the maximum mark of 20/20.
I am now under the care of psychologists. Although people around me are no longer aware of my social weaknesses, my sensitivity often leads me to shut down, and I have a hard time getting my work known.
But I am confident in my abilities, every detail of my portraits is painted with a confident and thoughtful hand.
And even if I talk a lot about suffering, in many of my paintings is hidden a real piece of happiness. Because my life of suffering has given me the capacity to not miss the small moments of happiness.
