Les oubliés

In a landscape of ripe wheat and wild grasses, color seeks its place between light and melancholy. The field becomes dreamlike, almost ecstatic. The ears of wheat, standing proudly, bend in the wind. Their suppleness evokes a blond body trembling under a caress. The painting offers refuge, a moment of oblivion in the heart of the field. A dialogue with Van Gogh emerges, without imitation or rediscovered faith.

The work offers two interpretations. The first belongs to each viewer's gaze; the second is revealed in the artist's verses. Three ears of wheat, left standing after the scythe has passed, marvel at their reprieve. They take their chance for a privilege, oblivious to the pigeons and rats drawn to the stubble. Behind this pastoral scene unfolds a meditation on chance, the illusion of being spared, and the certainty of death. No one escapes the scythe, regardless of their stature. Life remains vulnerable; Its loss, especially when it seems futile, reveals its full cruelty.