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Atlante dell'Arte Contemporanea 2021 - De Agostini Editore

Consistently inconsistent

by Sylvie Renault | 1 Mar 2011 | Osho

‘I am consistently inconsistent; that is my consistency. That is why I cannot define myself: today's definition might no longer fit tomorrow. I cannot define myself, because it would be like defining a cloud, or an ocean, or a growing tree, or a child. I am constantly changing, because change is the very soul of life. Except for change, nothing is eternal. No, you cannot label me: I am not an object. I am a river, a cloud constantly changing its shape. My idea of consistency is rooted in this constant change, in this dynamic dance called life...’ Osho

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This Country

by Sylvie Renault | 11 Feb 2011 | Me

This country has stolen a stage of my life. It raised me to believe I would have all the time in the world only because, in reality, it would grant me none. So I am a daughter of that generation that rotted in university chairs, certain that this would secure its future. And although I am among the few who spent only the necessary time on their studies, I still feel without time. When I think of myself, I call myself a girl. Whereas my mother at my age already had a husband and a three-year-old daughter, my sister, six years older than me, who was a late and unexpected birth. Meanwhile, I don't even think about children. This country has stolen my sense of motherhood. Not that I don't want any, it's just that I'm out of time. I have no future, I have no present, I have only a past, which takes shape with every instant that passes without any meaning. Constantly nursed at the breast of maddening insecurity, I survive. This country has stolen hours of sleep and peace of mind from me. Because when you feel without time, you think it is always the moment to reclaim what belongs to you. Like now, tonight, as I write this text- Which many of you won't read because it is longer than 10 lines and this country, alas, has stolen your culture and curiosity. But despite everything I write, organize, do, design, plan, dream. Because this country can steal everything from me, but not my creativity. Least of all my dignity.

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The Art of Dying

by Sylvie Renault | 21 Dec 2010 | Osho

I cry. I write and cry. After so long without it happening, I write and cry. The mother of one of my dearest friends is dying, and all I can do is cry and cuddle her little rabbit, who is staying here with me. I don't have a car, or the money for a taxi to reach her. And then there's work tomorrow, my contract is at risk, how could I miss it. I wish I could be with her. Offer her my support, my presence, my silence. And listen with her. Listen to the life of death. [...] Especially in the East, death is respected more than life, and the East has lived a long time to reach this conclusion. In the West, life is respected more than death, which is why there is so much tension, so much worry, so much anguish and so much madness. Why? If all your respect is directed toward life, you will be afraid of death and, in that case, it will be something antagonistic, an enemy, and if it is the enemy, you will remain tense all your life, because death can happen at any moment. You do not accept it, you reject it, but you cannot destroy it. It is impossible to destroy death.You can reject it, you can deny it, you can be afraid of it, be terrified of it; it will be there nonetheless. [...] Whenever you are gripped by fear, something has given you a sign of death. [...]Whatever you fear, if you look deeply, you will always find the shadow of death somewhere. [...] In the West, youth is respected, a transient phenomenon: it is already slipping through your fingers. In the East, old people are respected, because death is respected here. Life is only a part, death is the culmination. Life is only the process, death is the crescendo. Life is only the movement, death is the fulfillment. And the two are one! So which will you respect more: the path or the destination? The process or the flowering? Death is the flower, life is nothing but the tree. [...] That is why in the East death is accepted; not only that, it is welcomed; it is a divine guest. When it knocks at the door, it means that the universe is ready to welcome you back into its womb. [...] Death is such a beautiful

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Happy? Why Not!

by Sylvie Renault | 3 Dec 2010 | Osho

"Live as intensely as possible! Burn your candle of life at both ends! Burn it so intensely... Even if it burned out in a second, that would still be fine! At least you will know what it consists of, because only intensity penetrates deeply." Osho

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The meaning of the Ocean.

The meaning of the Ocean.

by Sylvie Renault | 28 Nov 2010 | Drawing, Me

The Ocean comes and goes, nourishes and destroys the beach, evaporates and then, after a very long journey, returns to where it came from. The Ocean. The Ocean has its own meaning, and even if it does not know it, it follows it. Because the Ocean knows that the Ocean is there waiting for it. Perhaps if it did not have that certainty, it too would one day choose to evaporate away forever.

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Awareness of myself. Awareness of others.

by Sylvie Renault | 23 Oct 2010 | Me

Negative events generally leave us feeling powerless. So when something good happens to us, our desire to take charge of our lives is so strong that, at the risk of missing out on what little good is happening to us, instead of surrendering to it, we withdraw from it, so as not to lose that illusion of control we need. Like skilled photographers, we take a snapshot of it and observe it with detachment. But life is a miracle of emotions that dissolves before our eyes at every moment. Nothing that can be governed or controlled, but something that can and must only be lived. At most, we can decide how much to take part in it. But in doing so, in an attempt to fit that photograph into a larger scene, we destroy the energy of that minute of happiness that came our way, dissipating it in anxiety and worry over everything it entails. Whether it lasts a moment, a day, a month, a year or a lifetime... it hardly matters! Only that minute mattered, only that minute needed to be celebrated.

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Le porte del sogno - Soundtrack

by Sylvie Renault | 21 Sept 2010 | Painting Soundtrack, Music, Step by Step, Video

Thank you for breaking my heart at last the light can get in Strange to say, I have found peace In this swamp while one evening hurled instead Musical Promises of apocalypse Thank you for the invitation to... Forget Strange to tell you, I have found peace At the gates of dreams I see again the harbors, the fog, the winters, the shadows, the useless rains the dawns, the struggles, the lights, the days, the nights, the hotel rooms Pride.

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Creativity is the fragrance of individual freedom.

by Sylvie Renault | 7 Sept 2010 | Osho

Creativity is the greatest form of rebellion there is. If you want to create, you must free yourself from all conditioning, otherwise your creativity will be nothing but an imitation. just a duplicate... you can only be creative if you are an individual; if you depend on mass psychology, you cannot create. Mass psychology is devoid of creativity, it lives a secondhand life, it knows no dance, no song, no joy; it is a life of automatons. [...] Those who create cannot follow the straight and narrow, they must find their own way, they must cut a path through the jungle of life, they must go forward alone, and be outcasts from the crowd, from collective psychology. The mass mentality is the lowest mentality in the world; even so-called idiots are far superior to the idiocy of the collective mentality. But the collective has its techniques of corruption: it respects and honors a person if they keep insisting that the direction of the collective mentality is the only right path. In the past, those who created in every field—painters, dancers, musicians, poets, sculptors—had to give up respectability out of sheer necessity: They were forced to live a bohemian life, a life of wanderers: it was the only way to be creative. In the future this will no longer be necessary. If you understand me, if you feel that what I say is the truth, in the future everyone will be able to live out their individuality, and there will be no need to lead a bohemian life. [...] My effort is to destroy the collective mentality and make every individual free to be themselves. Then there will be no problem, you will be able to live as you wish. Humanity will truly be born only on the day when the individual's rebellion is respected. Humankind has not yet been born, it is still living in the womb. What appears to you to be humankind is merely a false phenomenon.[...] Humanity needs new soil, the soil of freedom. Bohemia was a reaction, a necessary reaction, but if my vision gains a following, there will no longer be any bohemia, because there will no longer be any so-called collective mentality trying to dominate people. At that point everyone will live at peace with themselves. [...] Only then will there be creativity. Creativity is the fragrance of individual freedom. Osho - A Perfect

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Castaneda - The Teachings of Don Juan

by Sylvie Renault | 6 Sept 2010 | Me, Theories

For me there is only travelling along paths that have a heart, any path that has a heart. Along those I travel, and the only test that matters is to traverse their entire length. And along those I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. For me there is only the journey along paths that have a heart, any path that has a heart. There I travel, and the only challenge worth taking is to traverse the path in its entire length. There I travel looking, looking, breathlessly.

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Thank You

by Sylvie Renault | 22 Jul 2010 | Me

Thank you to the family that raised me and made me who I am. Thank you to the matriarchy that raised me harshly amid pure male chauvinism, teaching me by contrast the deepest value of being a woman. Thank you to all the assholes I have met along the way. Thank you to those who tried to steal an idea from me. Thank you to those who made themselves pathetic in my eyes by doing so. Thank you to those who tried to abuse me just because they were my employer. Thank you to those who left me out on the street because I wouldn't fuck them. Thank you to those who evicted me because I hadn't been able to pay a month's rent. Thank you to those who tried to cast a shadow over my work by making up bullshit because that was all they had. Thank you. I owe my strength to you, and thanks to that strength I now live, survive, and laugh in your faces without you even realizing it. And for that I thank you. Just as I thank the family that raised me harshly. The matriarchy that raised me amid pure male chauvinism, teaching me by contrast the deepest value of being who I am. Daughter, mother, wife, lover, granddaughter, woman. Descended from a line of women who smuggled butter and coffee, risking their lives at sea just to give their parents and children a moment of happiness. I have no one to risk so much for, but I know I would be ready to do it. And for that, too, I thank you.

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