Like an improbable calculation, I scramble my canvas, mathematical hypotheses run away from me, erasures and superpostitions add up. I see blurred colours, casts, subjects, the emergence of an image in progress.
The theme is almost nothing, the random, the ever changing, the accident, a shadow, the wind, a fragment, the relic, the fading out, corrections.
Painting starts with emotion in relation to one or two colours, joined to an idea of instability or change.
I paint colourful spaces, as fluid as whitewash on my canvas spread on the floor with a soft brush.
My painting is not abstract but perhaps it is not without traces of narration.
It takes its own path, a reflection of life itself, carrying as many mishaps as the willingness to do well.
Françoise La Haye, April 2017