«I have seen you before but I didn’t remember your shirt was so blue and your mouth so open. We have met among the many faces I come across daily when my fingers move through screens – when my mind instantly forgets but my eyes do not.
Moments like this one. When the color of your skin differs from one minute to the other and your hair drips from the top of your head.
I have seen you before but I didn’t remember that very second when your nose was so tense and the trees through the window were so leafy but maybe if I try hard enough, maybe if I get closer to your tongue, close enough to count your teeth but still too far to hear you scream, maybe then I can re-imagine the seconds before this and the ones after.
Because isn’t that what you want me to do, re-imagine?»
This is an extract from a text written by Camille Kaiser. During the confinement, while I was working on this new painting series in Paris, we had several meetings by skype which were the starting point for this text.