Arpaïs Du Bois

In a low voice, almost a whisper in the rustling of the world. A low voice reciting time suspended, the wanderings of the soul, stretches of the heart, evoking the risk of thunder or the delicacy of a breath billowing the canopy. A low voice in which the suspicion of death roars as much as the spirited hope of everyday moments. For those who are able to hear them, it is all there, in the sentences of Arpaïs Du Bois. For this secret artist inscribes words, fragments of thoughts, the beginnings of texts on leaves still trembling with the colours that branded them. You will find no beautiful poems or any heroic declamations here. The power of these words lies elsewhere. How does one draw with and against language?" - Damien Sausset