Sometimes it takes a piece of cloth, a texture, a transparency, a shadow, a breath of air, to transport us into an imaginary world.
We are in Africa, on the edge of the Madagascar Highlands, in Ambalavao.
In the square, on a market day, these paintings that separate the stalls captivate my sight and become, under the light that caresses them, the screens of a fascinating show of shadow play: gestures, attitudes, comes and goes from half-unveiled bodies, guessed faces, hand games, expectations…
What stories do they tell us, these draped silhouettes, these mysterious shadows, between real and imaginary ?
Illusion, daydreaming? At night, in the empty square, I remain alone with my ephemeral ghosts.