My father’s diaries have been in my hands since 8 March 1995, the day he died. Without any clear-minded premeditation, little by little, over the years, they have become an integral part of my life, to the point of determining the course of my work in a fluid and natural manner. 

After having read them all, the thirty-eight notebooks full of my father’s writing remained at my side, sitting on the desk in my studio until I began to long to build a house that might contain them all. I thought about a place where they might be conserved, welcomed and embraced. Almost as if it were a dwelling for my father’s own emotivity.

I focused in particular on the Infinite Painting, looking at it as if it were a human figure. From there I started out coming up with a representation of the heart, of the essence of a father, through a container with a vaguely anthropomorphic shape to it. I thus doubled the Infinite Painting by putting the two individual elements next to each other, almost as if they were two people holding hands with one another. As part of the framework, I then brought this new feature into my cosmology, physically placing the trace of my existential time alongside that of my father.

(Written in 2019)