— A wonderful woman [Unspoken IV]

Fourth piece in the “Non-dit” collection: unique piece combining drawing and text.

I met a wonderful woman. An ordinary woman. A woman who ignores her miraculous side. Love is her illness. Her temperature. Her fever. She's overflowing with it. Her heart is always dripping with water. Perhaps it's because she dares to venture beyond the first shivers, and refuses to give up at the slightest inclement weather. She doesn't give up. She fights, to the end, to the point of feeling useless. We can tell her it's dangerous, immature, or stupid, but she remains convinced that love can heal. And repair. And soften the fire of the deepest scars. And mend the last light of things. And soothe all the ugliness in the world. She can even feel guilty about leaving someone who doesn't love her. It's not a lack of courage. No. She's not afraid to leave if she has to. She's not afraid to be alone if she has to. But she refuses to believe that it is impossible to save others with affection. It is her shred of the impossible. The shred that some souls manage to preserve. The sublime of hearts that forget to beat for themselves. Is it madness? Certainly. An excess from elsewhere, born of a previous wound. A void dug by a past rift. A murderous void that failed to create closure in her feminine flesh. A murderous void that failed to annihilate her. Her infinite love is the failure of nothingness. Her infinite love is the failure of nothingness. And from her secret pain, which she does not speak of, she has managed to create the sweetest of overflows: she weaves sparks, shards, and glimmers with her own darkness. She throws ribbons of stars over the eyes of those she loves. There are women like that: marvelous. Ordinary women.

Original charcoal drawing of “A Wonderful Woman”

• Charcoal on fringed vellum paper, BFK Rives, Museum [65 x 50 cm]
• Comes with certificate of authenticity
• Signed by Lucas Clavel
• Completed in February 2025