Recent & Ongoing works ...
Contemporary Art, Sculptures
JIFIE Sculptor
Prochaine EXPOSITION
ART CAPITAL 2025
Grand Palais - Paris
du 18 au 22 fevrier 2025
Another look
Emotions that snuggle up there ...
Free inspiration, hidden meaning or evidence ... a set of texts and poems written by a childhood friend, Claude Panouillé
This section is enriched over the course of the meetings: send me texts or comments that inspire you these works and they will be published.
ALLEZ' ENFANTS
Come on zchildren
Don't stay coiled up
In my lap in my warmth
Come on
I throw you on the fly
go to life
Go anywhere you want
According to your desires
To the flow of your desires
In the frosts in the heat wave
With shady sweetness
Go sow your seeds
And celebrate your engagement
To the bursts of the waterfalls
To laughter and sobs
Go hoot at the moon
Rolling you in the thick grass
In suns and twilights
To your turbulences to your pleasures
Feel the power surge
grow multiply
Your follies your wanderings
Your conquests your defeats
It's your life you'll make
Who is waiting for you.
He who is the son of Erebus
(Just a foot) (A knee?) Holds it back
- (More than a foot) (Almost nothing) to the soil
In the underground world
That of the old order
Wild and uncertain
Soon the era of drunkenness
The woman is not far
An era of joy
And almost we meet
Both are in a hurry
Life is only promises
It's a new era
And the land is theirs
Fresh new and so beautiful
This is their playground
- Eternal life?
We can dream of it that way.
THE RIPPING
THE RIPPING
He who is the son of Erebus
(Just a foot) (A knee?) Holds it back
- (More than a foot) (Almost nothing) to the soil
In the underground world
That of the old order
Wild and uncertain
Soon the era of drunkenness
The woman is not far
An era of joy
And almost we meet
Both are in a hurry
Life is only promises
It's a new era
And the land is theirs
Fresh new and so beautiful
This is their playground
- Eternal life?
We can dream of it that way.
THE RIPPING
He who is the son of Erebus
(Just a foot) (A knee?) Holds it back
- (More than a foot) (Almost nothing) to the soil
In the underground world
That of the old order
Wild and uncertain
Soon the era of drunkenness
The woman is not far
An era of joy
And almost we meet
Both are in a hurry
Life is only promises
It's a new era
And the land is theirs
Fresh new and so beautiful
This is their playground
- Eternal life?
We can dream of it that way.
He who is the son of Erebus
(Just a foot) (A knee?) Holds it back
- (More than a foot) (Almost nothing) to the soil
In the underground world
That of the old order
Wild and uncertain
Soon the era of drunkenness
The woman is not far
An era of joy
And almost we meet
Both are in a hurry
Life is only promises
It's a new era
And the land is theirs
Fresh new and so beautiful
This is their playground
- Eternal life?
We can dream of it that way.
THE RIPPING
TRUST OR THE HAND OF GOD
The hand
Closed she refuses
Make fist she grinds
She closes imprisons
She slaps or pummels
Part of the human heart
It is she who shapes
Who takes or who gives
Who writes who reasons
Which brushes which radiates
Who grapes and reaps
Who holds the bow in the fall
Of the shivering violin
Never more accomplished
That when it is filled
When there is a woman there
With the twisted mat
Who stands there all enclosed
Not captive
And woman fully
Fully confident
No need for her to eat there
That she laughs there that she dances there
Whether she kisses or gives herself
Because his full presence
Flexibility and density
Dress the world
Hot perfection
- But get out of the gangue
She still has to want it.
CHERUBIN POTELE and OTHER
That chubby cherub?
Under the folds no mystery
No crack
The light
Does more than nimber
- Nothing to do with that
With a sharp quiver
Who comes from among the Greeks
He is the accomplishment without the thrill
Bliss without uncertainty
Innocence not license
The pure soul of lust
Pleasure without lust
Good faith not bad
Nothing that scolds nothing that is deaf
Bonhomie not infamy
It's the world before the fault
Roundness without the inextinguishable ardor
The flesh without sin
It's the world before the fault
A smooth world without real delight
- Chubby cherub just the opposite
That emaciated imp turned smoke black
Sharp tapered
Without his stray bow
In some scuffle.
EVE AFTER ...
She knew the snake
She tasted the fruit
She knew the taste of the unknown
She experienced nudity
She knew the man
She knew life
And after
She wanted to know again
She hoisted herself up
With all its density
Up to the top
She only found ways of apples
And after
The branches bend
Near is the void
After
And if there was nothing left
After.
The earth is unraveling
Yes the earth is withering away
Laminated continents
The earth is crumbling
The earth cannot but
Oh soon they will come
The days the days without bread
In the colors of the night
Then the days without color
And the days without a day
All these days without tomorrow
- And those days forever
DAY WITHOUT BREAD OR SISYPH IN THE MILKYWAY
INTERLACED or CREVE-COEUR
So close
To dig the body
To burst my heart
To become one
So close
And they become one
The bodies are hollowed out
Have broken hearts
More late
Hallucinated gasps
As soon as they are entwined, as soon as they are untied
The desire will have been on time
But it will turn out
That their delirium was a lure
Loneliness their lot
Concentrates
Secured to the ground at a few anchor points
Braces
Arched
Arched
Inground
- but not what cannot be
Tense muscles tendons bandaged
Darting energy
Lightweight heavy fiery density
Demanding
Terrestrial not ethereal
As frozen
For an eternity
- So much tension so much desire
And it's hardly if we touch
BARELY ...
EVE OR THE ETERNAL TEMPTATION
- He simply camped, he knows his task well
A land to carry and to detach
To fill to perfect and that no longer hurts
The slightest roughness on its roundness
The strength of his arm, for sure, will be enough
Who effortlessly supports Cain this innocent
And Abel whose life is full of promises
The place suits him which was assigned to him
- She picked up dense and ready for the boom
Because the man's shoulder is no longer
that footstool
No need for a snake
In her this strength
This impulse this thirst this need this tyrant
The attraction of the spell and the taste of vertigo
A poet will write Hell or Heaven whatever
Deep in the Unknown to find New
And from Eve will descend all those who will leave
The furrow traced straight the warmth of the hearth
The diaper of the wife with well-learned gestures
The expected tomorrow the expected pleasures
The cycle of seasons never renewed
The sweetness of the orchard and the rest of the bench
The Van Goghs the Darwins the first Easter Islanders
All those who will wear their soles of wind
- From Eve will proceed all those who seek
In the blue swirls the yellow of the absinthe
Back to the mirror on the other side of the world
In the shelter of the hermit in Pierrot's habit
Below the volcano in the heart of its crater
In the vapors of incense in the flesh lust
All those who will seek the lost Atlantis
Cipango the golden the right metaphor
L'outrenoir the Grail l'Azur the blue note
The inaccessible star (e) the fleece of Colchis
Which are flowers of vertigo and rust and spells.
