I do not work with symbols, I work with metaphors
I’ll beat about the bush a little, but it’s so nice! The metaphor seems creative and proof of intelligence, while the symbol, which is being eroded by time, seems trivial and obsolete. The cross, for example, is as a whole a symbol for thousands of years, be it Christian, Maltese, Egyptian, St Andrew’s, Greek, Latin or swastika, when you use it is because you do not have anything to say. When your imagination has been completed. When you want to say something simple in a complicated and sophisticated way. In art, symbolism is trying to say in a sign that it might be said plainly. Here comes the problem. How to say in a nice manner what you think. So, if you do not know, you put a symbol hoping that people are happy to discover the great mystery of the artist, a mystery that actually is trivial and easy to understand.
But look how small impostors can become interesting and special people for the ignorant. Put an Egyptian goddess or of any other origin, accompanied by a double cross thrown in a corner, the snake that coils on a belt Doric (or Ionic, depending on how you draw it), an olive branch carried by a white bird mask, a masked Bacchante from Middle Age Venice, put a scales, because you need balance and divine blind judgment in all this hieratic shit….and it’s ready! Have you understand something? No! … You see, art is not for everybody.
Well, I do not create to be understood. Understanding entails, sometimes a lot of bad stuff: compassion, tolerance, comments and analogies, paraphrases and anachronisms, hasty judgments and everything culminates in the end with a lack of understanding. I’d rather remain misunderstood from the beginning … what I had and what I lost!
But at least I try to express myself, to recognize myself in my work. I don’t need shadows around me, I need myself. My thoughts, my ideas with what I feel and think. Unique, as is every human being on this Earth.
Maybe that’s part of us that we forget most often: uniqueness. That’s a shame to get lost in the herd, that we have a mind and we have it to use it. That we don’t have to walk only beaten paths, that we don’t have to hide in the shadows, that we must have the courage to discover new roads, within us. Why? Because an artist it’s wave and wind, because a woman is a constant scattered thought, because a child is a sweet lemon bud, because the sun is a hanging bulb in an infinite ceiling, because the ocean is a tear from one huge eye, because love is a Brownian agitation of undiscovered particles, because your body is a liana curled around mine, an old tree, because happiness is a unknown fruit that we taste time to time without knowing it, because life is a journey of which we only know the end. That’s why I prefer metaphors and I’m bored by symbols.