This land is furrowed with cracks,
Rocks are split, offering narrow doorways to the depths of earth. Openings onto deep, sinuous caves, plunged in darkness.
Men already went down there, once. And left traces, frails shapes, images left in shadows and silence for eternity.
Sealed, away from any gaze. But, slowly, these images are starting to move, feeding from the obscurity.
Outside, a black sun is rising.
In the Chauvet Cave, hundreds of animals are jostling on the walls, drawn with ochre and charcoal, 36 000 years before our age. We know that the people who executed them did not live in the cave: it was too dark, too dangerous. Why then create images that were kept in shadows and obscurity, as if they were not meant to be seen at all?
To me, their existence in deep darkness turns them into sacred images, intended for something else than our gaze. Powerful images, sealed in the depths of earth.
Sealed, and yet living. Preserved from our looks, preserved from us, they are slowly growing alive, feeding from the obscurity. Waiting. And soon, when none of us will be there to see them anymore, they will come out, outlasting us.