The mother of fishes
huile sur toile, 100×100 cm
My ancestor was a fish. To persevere in his being, he had to become. That is life. With unparalleled obstinacy, he fashioned legs and arms for himself, and he peeled off his head to get out of the water and lie down on a towel in the summer. Let us not forget him. Today, as the Peacock Girelle, the most colorful of fish from the southern Mediterranean, arrives on the northern coasts due to climate warming, the mother of fishes grows anxious. For as Boby Lapointe’s song says: “The mother of fishes, she’s very kind…” Will the ex-fishes that we are be able to listen to her?
