I was inspired by a drawing I made with Indian ink.
This drawing, with its embryonic and somewhat anthropomorphic form, seems to indicate life and death.
When we are born, we are certain that our bodies will be returned to the earth.
The earth and its microscopic thousands of inhabitants will take care of consuming us.
The spirit is returned to the universe.
The spirit is always in the universe.
When we are alive and made of matter, it is within our bodies.
Like a drawing outlined in charcoal.
When we die, the spirit flies to the cosmos.
Like a drawing submerged in water, the charcoal dissolves.
It spreads.
We are reborn.

In the universe, everything comes and goes.
Like the tides of a giant sea.
It is a place of meditation, of being, of coexistence, where we find ourselves, where we make our wishes, to the sound of the melody of bamboo reeds.
We also blow and whistle our wishes through a reed.
We blow to the wind, to God, to the mountains.
In Jiuxian, a paradisiacal diamond in southern China, in the heart of Guilin.
In a valley where the echo is powerful, we can also shout them out.
I started to apply the drawing with stones on the ground.
On the grass.
A drawing in which I placed stones in a continuous line.
In the form of a contour.

The beginning of a great journey.
A continuation of myself.
The stones placed one by one.
Fitting them deliberately, as if it were a gigantic puzzle.
A drawing-pencil-paper.
A drawing-stones-grass-earth.
A strong, heavy, ephemeral combination, returned to time.
The solitude.
The reeds whistle melodies to the mountains, which look at me every day.
They are attentive spectators, repeating what I say, the noise I make with the stones, or the music from the bamboo reeds.
They return the sounds that enter my ears and inspire me in the composition of nature.

I felt welcomed by nature.
A deep love takes hold of me.
The giant mosaic takes shape, color, life, visitors, bison, bees, and dogs, and all the fauna.
It is working with what nature gives us.
A continuation of myself.