It was an autumn weekend, I decided to come back to visit my parents. During it, I walked through the antiquarian quarters when suddenly I was stopped by sketches of nudes. They were very elegant and full of modesty, I remained in admiration in front of it, astonished, until the shopkeeper call ou to me.
I questioned him regarding the origin of these works but it remained a mystery. I decided to continue my journey. On my way, I did not cease to think of these sketches, so I hasten to turn back in order to acquire them. Once I got home, I was once again seized by the natural beauty of these sketches realized through simple charcoals.
In admiration of these drawings, my mind wandered through reflections and questions that I did not control. I realized then that the Beaux-Arts School had taught me a lot about Art, its reading, its different forms of expressions but in no case it taught me to create this Art at least to paint and draw what was for me a deep frustration. This dark reflection was banished from my mind at the moment when I remembered having these courses, I was simply not mature and strong enough at the time to persevere in this instruction.
The French Art Of Living
I abandoned the questioning of my mind to realize that it was never too late to learn. It had to be patient, to have time and not to give up to the first rough draft. I leaped from my couch to fetch from my parents' attic where my famous trunk when I was a student in this prestigious school was. A rain of memories seized me at his opening, but not allowing to distract myself, I took my charcoals and a few sheets of papers to go down directly in my living room and begin to draw.
All day, I drew constantly, trying to reproduce the drawings of naked women accurately. Much emotion carried me away with every stroke of charcoal, an intriguing feeling of freedom and magic as if I were giving them life. It was only after a long week of work that I noticed that I could not finish my sketch. Why with each drawing I could not let the charcoal caress the canvas to draw the face of these charming young ladies ? I wondered then if my mind did not wish to draw the face of the person that I can admire with as much dazzling than these sketches, my dear Elena.
I decided to take the step between the reproducer and the artist, I grabbed my phone and decided to call the face that my mind never ceased to imagine to have, who knows, the privilege of being able to draw it.
I can not tell you the continuation of this adventure because it is not written yet but know that the future depends on what we do in the present, time will tell me if I made the right choice.
See you soon !