At the desk · In search of beauty

Dear reader, I feel the need to share with you the way I see art and creativity. In my work with children — but not only — I have often heard questions such as: “What is this drawing? Don’t you know that cats aren’t pink? Or that trees aren’t blue? What do these lines represent?” And every time, I feel that the answer is not about the drawing. But about the way we come close to it. Come closer to the line. Come closer to what you do not yet understand. For me, every line is an expression that carries meaning, even if it is not immediately understood. Art is not the line itself. Art is the process through which I arrived at the line. The line may be a road. It may be a word left unspoken for years. It may be the beginning of a rainbow. To put a label on it too early is to interrupt the process. Sometimes for a moment, sometimes for years. And sometimes, someone looks at you and tells you what you are — before you have had the chance to see yourself. Come closer to me. And look at yourself in what you see. Art is the way we set down a cup of coffee. The way we prepare a cake. The way we put flowers in a vase. The way we write. The way we lift our eyes towards the sun. Nothing we do lies outside of creation. And yet, every time I look at someone else’s creation, I ask myself: Did I come close enough? Or did I look from a distance? Because sometimes, in order to understand, you have to come close to the other until you begin to see yourself. Perhaps it is time to look at other people’s creations as processes of expression, not as finished products. Perhaps it is time to look the creator in the eye. Perhaps it is time to come closer. Because every person in front of us is a mirror in which we meet, without realising it, ourselves. Come closer to me. Look at yourself in my eyes. And see what remains between us.