Cyb is a painter who devotes herself to colors with lyricism. Under the assaults of the brush, an entire solar continent rises in a single wave. Yellow, Red, Green, White, Blue — Rimbaud's Vowels had better hold on, for the artist sets the tone and reinvents with ardent energy a traveling pictorial poetic language. Her voluble painting plays with art history and seeks the viewer's gaze to make them commune in a contemplative joy. Attuned to the world, she traverses the matter of landscapes, stones, cities, keeping only the dreamlike and angelic sensation. Happy is she who, like Cyb, has made a long journey! Traveling through lands and words with wit and nonchalance, traveling through music and literature with curiosity, aboard her imagination, she has steered her vessel to the edges of the visible and of abstraction.
Painting is a limb of her body, the continuation of her personality, a canvas-skin upon which she launches herself with devotion. Art as a fountain of youth? It is certain that the artist comes as close to it as possible. Each color radiates with this mystical vitality, fluid and healing, a luminous opening in a cloudless sky… Is it possible? An inner Venice, a land of restful reveries, entirely Bachelardian… where "the wild character of a child who has always known the sea" (1) can run along the forms and lines, grazing them without ever being wounded…
We could almost hear the lapping of water, feel the wind, gather the colors, so generous are Cyb's paintings — earthly and celestial nourishment between two formal shores. The artist knows how to cultivate her garden, the amorous garden of her courted countries with which she composes her paintings and her life. Everything is a pretext for a story, a memory, an encounter; she lives her art with that mischievous smile that never leaves her.
(1) The artist's own words.