Embroidery

Few things are as vexing as the gratuitousness of events and objects. This is why we look behind them for the reasons and purposes of their existence. Otherwise we would not be able to understand why they occur to us and why, to varying degrees, they concern us.
The colourful embroidery called “stains” or “drops” belongs to this very category of object. It is gratuitous, irritating in its own way. It arbitrarily reproduces the random way the dots are arranged on the canvas, the equivalence of colours.
On the one hand it represents chance, on the other, a gestural expressiveness that is not free of tension and that technique alone is unable to uplift. It is not supported by any particular skill, no project invests it with intention.
Disinclined to refer to the individual results of artistic practice as “research”, to consider it as equal to both a specific scientific discipline and a department of anthropology, irritated by the tenet that holds there is nothing to do but go beyond the confines of art to make art, I am like the genie of the lamp, free to break away from my own expression.
Therefore, the “stains” and the “drops” bear witness to the results of this vaguely perverse, partial way of looking at perspectives that are, in some cases, psychedelic.