Aleah is flying to Asia right now…. She should be arrived in no time now… Then I will publish a complete update when she will be arrived over there and then, will officially open the preorder and request the deposits.

But in the meantime, during the drying process of my new molds for porcelain, the new prototype started… We can discuss to kill time and this waiting… ^^

I plan to make a bust. Like the one everybody loves so and which is my avatar everywhere, including facebook. I told no one I was going to, THOUGH, my friend Chantal, who is also an artist and lives in America; sent me this morning a link FULL of inspirations for that very bust. Just because.
It simply made my day.
Chantal is alike me, she doesn’t spend all her time telling me that she is fond of me, for it is not useful : I know it, as she knows I am of her. This morning link was another proof of it among dozens…
Tonight, it has been reproached to me ( for the 1235566644886659 time) to not be sensitive, romantic; to be a cold person without a heart beating in her chest.

Well… Maybe.
Or maybe not. Not really. Not in the way it can be usually understood.

I am probably over sensitive. Though, I can understand it can be bewildering for some people as my sensitivity expresses itself in unusual things and domains.

I don’t expect to get flowers, for it’s not my style. I don’t dream to spend every minute with a man looking at him playing Don Juan, cause as would say Marlene my TTT : ” don’t you have better to do?”

I am obsessed by my work. and I have better to do. I admit it. Shamelessly admit it.
Because… I am sensitive to my work. I am over sensitive to the nature of sculpting and its genesis.

Not so many people know about this story, so I’d like to tell it tonight; first because it’s a beautiful one in my humble opinion, secondly because it will put light on this (odd) sensitivity I am accused to not have.

30 000 years, on our good old Earth were living two kind of Men.
Sapiens, and Neanderthal.
Neanderthal, with no obvious reason, brutally disappeared from the surface of the planet to leave it to the powerful Sapiens.
During decades, scientists of all countries wondered why. What was the reason for Neanderthal to die so?
Their pugnacity led them at last to discover it.

Sculpture.

Neanderthal had no art at all. When at the same time Sapiens had already painting; to write the History of his race on caves; and sculpture appeared.
Sapiens used sculptures as gifts of friendship and brotherhood t be given to other clans, gifts to express respect to another tribe; which allowed them to gather, to grow stronger, to conclude alliances of tribes, weddings in different clans and to create fraternity which has been used to face predators and other issues of this Era, TOGETHER.

When, in the meantime, Neanderthal was dying in very small groups unable to defend themselves, of co-blooding births, and without sharing knowledge which would have saved them all.

Sapiens, 30 000 years ago, with little clay sculptures, invented Love and saved his race with it. Our ancestor allowed us to be here today, thank to his sculptures.
When I heard this story from scientists mouths, testifying of their discover; I was already a sculptor. Since a very few months. Then I suddenly felt it… The hand in my hand.
That hand of the very first Sapiens who sculpted to invent that Love who saved all of us, in my rookie hand.
And from the Dawn of time, I saw us. All the sculptors holding one another’s hand in an endless chain perpetuating Love. From the greatest to the humblest, together, from Sapiens to me.
If one day a good wizard comes to allow me three wishes, I can say that one of them will be to meet that Sculptor Sapiens, and to hold that ancestor of mine very tight, saying ” Thank you.”
Everytime I think of this, I am stirred to tears with a thrill possessing my body, imagining that the very little me, is a very humble link of that 30 000 years old Chain. That I am a little member of that very tribe.
This is where resides my sensitivity. This is what my heart beats faster and stronger for.

This is why we must be Humble, grateful to every of our viewers for they allow us to simply exist for none artist can BE without a public. For we must be selfless to only focus on our endeavors and improve to be a worthy enough link of that chain, because, as Sapiens showed us : none of us will remain but what we do may if we put all our strength and thoughts in it.
That can also change our poor world. We still sculpt things that are made with our Love, meant to be loved and to spread it.
This is where resides my coldness reproached for I am only interested in my work.

And now you will understand why I have been so touched by Chantal’s message with an inspirational link : She is a painter. I am a sculptor. Nothing has changed since 30 000 years, because she wrote the History of my new bust of Love; even if not on a cave’s wall. And it’s all about LOVE.

here is, the close up of an endeavor of mines; test to mechanize a porcelain hand in a steampunk way; to figure someone who is an artist in soul. I don’t think it has ever been made before.

I will give news of Aleah’s travel as soon as she will be arrived.

Good evening everyone; and thank you for looking at my work. It means a lot to me as you can see.