"Shiny furniture, Polished by the years, Decorate our room; The rarest flowers Blending their scents With the vague scent of amber, Rich ceilings, Deep mirrors, Oriental splendor, Everything speaks for itself To the soul in secret His sweet native tongue. Here, all is order and beauty, Luxury, calm and pleasure." (Baudelaire - L'invitation au voyage)...
"And you will be loved by my lovers, courted by my courtiers. You will be the queen of green-eyed men whose throats I have also squeezed in my nocturnal caresses; of those who love the sea, the immense, tumultuous, green sea, the shapeless, multiform water,...
"By the pale light of languid lamps, On deep, fragrant cushions Hippolyte dreamed of the powerful caresses that lifted the curtain on her youthful candor; My kisses are as light as these ephemera Caressing these great transparent lakes in the evening, And those of your lover will dig their ruts Like tearing...
"O loops! O perfume laden with nonchalance! Ecstasy to populate tonight's dark alcove Memories sleeping in this hair, I want to wave it in the air like a handkerchief!" (Baudelaire - La Chevelure)...
I made this sculpture for the glory of psychoanalysis....
"When I nibble on your rebellious, elastic hair, it feels like I'm eating memories"....
"To avoid being the martyred slaves of time, get drunk, get drunk all the time! With wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish!" (Baudelaire - Enivrez-vous)...
"Whether you come from heaven or hell, it doesn't matter, O Beauty! huge, frightening, ingenuous monster! If your eye, your mouse, your foot, open the door for me Of an Infinite that I love and have never known? Satan or God, what does it matter? Angel or Siren, It doesn't...
The Virgin Mary leans towards Christ shortly after his descent from the cross. Mary's swollen veil evokes a breath of life...
"Explore its magnificent shapes at your leisure ; Crawling on the slope of his huge knees, And sometimes in summer, when the sun is unhealthy, Lasse, make it spread across the countryside, Sleeping nonchalantly in the shade of her breasts, Like a peaceful hamlet at the foot of a mountain." (Baudelaire...
