All started with Charlottesville… and the feeling of no being capable of saying anything that could change something.
And I saw this reminder from Martin Luther King Jr :
We are in 2017, and we still do not love each other.
Despite the science that admits that the human has no races.
Despite the spirituality that shows that all religions are right (fucking !!! but at the end will you see they all say the same thing !!!!!!)
We are in 2017, and we still do not love each other.
Should we keep silent? Should we say too much?
The voice counts.
Every voice counts.
In fact, the limit is low between not remaining silent and wanting to confront others. Those who do not have the same values as us. And wanting to make them hear reason. Between love, and violence the balance always seems precarious.
I am white.
I am neither superior by this fact.
Neither inferior… to anyone.
But if I am one thing, it is that I am indignant of the events that took place in Charlottesville!
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How do you feel with your voice?
Do you still feel silent (for the peace of the household, for fear of stupid things or other …?)
The expression of our voice is not limited to our words.
In my case, this happens through painting (obviously not?)
And thinking of all that, I found myself confronting my silence of artist, for months, between the autumn 2016 and these last days.
Overwhelmed by countless events from October 2016, I closed the gate of expression.
I could not say or say (the important things, just mentioning the weather) neither write (in this blog) nor paint.
It is through this judgment that I have paradoxically understood the importance of the voice.
The importance of our voices.
It is not because we are afraid of hatred, afraid of going too far and hitting people, that we must be silent.
For, like the circles of resonance around a pebble striking the surface of the water, our words radiate as much as our actions.
IF we know how to stay in balance.
For example, I’m against hunting.
It’s something that often boils inside me, because I live in a densely populated area of hunters.
Last saturday, at a crossroads, passed in front of me a hunter, with, in his trailer a deer and a magnificent stag (4-stranded branches, absolutely majestic !!) to the sight of all, including my children. I had to follow him for a few kilometers, and with hatred helping, I gave him a masterful finger of honor when he stopped. He did not understand and thought that I congratulated him, so he answered with a joyous greeting. Nothing more to irritate me more … my husband then called me to be silent.
In this case, he was right (but at the time, it only made me more irritated) because the violence of hatred had shaken me, and all I was going to do next would not have been unnecessary confrontation.
On the other hand, I do not hesitate to claim the anti-hunting and on it, I would not be silent. Calm and in the balance zone, my words are not the expression of hatred of the other, but of love in my beliefs. I do not try to convince by my words.
No … I prefer to paint deer antlers, to honor the animal victims of hunting. To inform that other ways exist (the example of the Canton of Geneva which has abolished hunting since 1973).
I try to inform and to stand, right in my sneakers, because these values deserve it.
The values trampled during all the attacks, deserve to be standing upright. In the calm. They deserve to be talked about and repeated again and again: racism has no foundation, it is scientific.
