Beyond the horizon of the place we lived when we were young
In a world of magnets and miracles
Our thoughts strayed constantly and without boundary
The ringing of the division bell had begun

Along the Long Road and on down the Causeway
Do they still meet there by the Cut?

There was a ragged band that followed in our footsteps
Running before time took our dreams away
Leaving the myriad small creatures trying to tie us to theground
To a life consumed by slow decay

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
With friends surrounded
The nights of wonder

Looking beyond the embers of bridges glowing behind us
To a glimpse of how green it was on the other side
Steps taken forwards but sleepwalking back again
Dragged by the force of some inner tide

At a higher altitude with flag unfurled
We reached the dizzy heights of that dreamed of world

Encumbered forever by desire and ambition
There's a hunger still unsatisfiedOur weary eyes still stray to the horizon
Though down this road we've been so many times

The grass was greener
The light was brighter
The taste was sweeter
The nights of wonder
With friends surrounded
The dawn mist glowing
The water flowing
The endless river

Forever and ever

Pink Floyd - [The Division Bell]  High Hopes

* sobre quadros de Vladimir Kush

David M. Bowers, Fountain of youth

Jeux de masque, jeux de rôles, jeu de dupe...

(...) ou de l'autre côté du miroir déformant...

On s'y plaît ou on le fuit,
on s'y effraye mais on ne s'ennuie...

O estranho universo das inquietantes estranhezas de Bowers. Este não-sei-que-pense do que gosto-mas-também-não-gosto. O lugar do 'não-gosto' a interessar-me subitamente muito mais do que o previsível e escorreito lugar do 'gosto'. Esta coisa de artista farsante, a quem a mão foge de imprevisto para vazar um punhado de saltimbancos pictóricos que, de quando em vez, na graça de um providencial malabarismo mais insólito, lhe salvam a arte do desconchavo do retrato.