to the heart

To the Heart, mixed media, 5×7 inches

My home is very important to me. It’s my sanctuary, my refuge. It’s me. For this panel I used a polaroid transfer I created of the front door of my house. The words I scratched into the wax reads: to the heart.

This panel has been bound up as a journal cover and is available at amanobooks


  1. I once read a tale in a minoritary language, in Occitan. Occitan is the language of the ancient troubadours, which is still alive in some areas of France. That was a marvelous tale.

    A king was old, and he want to let his Reign to one of his three sons. He ordered to them to bring to the castle impossible things. He wanted to choice his successor according to the things that his sons could be able to carry to him.

    And two sons certainly bring to the castle these strange things. But the third son, in one of his travels, found… a cat, a marvelous cat, and fell in love with her. What a cat! Beautiful, kind, amorous… She lived in a magnificent palace hidden behind a bush… This son was so happy with the cat, with her love, in this forgotten palace! He did no want to return to the castle of his father, he did not want anymore to be a king.

    Well, the tale continues…

    I also, afterwards, had a cat. What a strange thing, she was as lovely and marvelous as the cat of the tale. She has made my life radiant and happy during the past seven years, that is the truth. I could say that I have had the most beautiful and lovely cat in the world, for true!

    But now she has died, she was sick during four months, and now rests under the walnut tree, in the fields, near our cottage, where we were so happy, so happy.

    In the tale, the palace of the cat had a beautiful golden door, the door of a paradise.

    That door certainly could be the door in your magnificent painting.
    What a painting! Extraordinary!

    Ah!, by de way, in our tale the cat transformed herself, at last, in the most beautiful and lovely of queens, and the boy who fell in love with her was finally king, but he never forgot the door of the palace hidden behind the bush, in the fields.

    I will never forget, also, my queen and the door of our paradise, in our cottage, in the house of our dreams. We all dream with that house, with that heaven.
    The door in your painting open the way to a paradise.

    Thank you. Sorry for my horrible English.


    Juan Bielsa

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