Poème caché


Je me noie dans l’horizon de ton corps, dunes de sables émouvants. Ton sourire cristallin résonne sous les étoiles pliantes, et font chavirer les peaux vendues des ours scolaires venant se jeter à nos pieds. Si seulement cela pouvait être l’hiver, ou l’été. Nos corps sont trop solides pour l’infini, qui s’enfuit déjà à tire d’ailes entre nos doigts emmêlés.

Impitoyablement, nous sommes orphelins de l’instant où nous nous sommes embrasés.


Alice de Miramon is a French artist born in Dakar (Senegal) in 1973. Even though she grew up in Northern France, her frequent trips to the USA had a major effect on her. At an early age, she developed a passion for drawing, stained glass, portraits and ancient books. She did an artistic training in drawing, molding and engraving in France before moving to the USA in 1997 to complete a B.A in Visual Arts, which led her to exhibit her work for the first time. Alice de Miramon has a refined style that brings a clear message and influences the viewer.
She later came back to Paris where she worked as an artistic director for prestigious brands such as Chanel, Yves Saint-Laurent and Disney. In 2008, Alice de Miramon settled in Sauve, a small village with a vibrant art scene and many emerging artists.


There will be desire, heard as a feminine voice, caring, loving, working, mothering, crying, laughing. Embracing desire, embracing strength while surrendering to softness. There will be mothers, lovers and friends. They will be dreadful, they we will be kind, they will be themselves.


A new drawing integrates and regenerates multiple forms of inspiration. At first, the object is a treasure, the paper alive. Then come the colours, bright as medieval stained glasses, the motifs/patterns inspired by oriental imagery, the graphic representation like a portrait from ancient times. It all leads the viewer of the painting to its own restitution, its own dialog.


Time is a solid presence all through my work. Most of the papers I salvage and use afterwards are about 100 years old. Reminiscence of a childhood spent looking at illegible notes in books, dreaming up the imaginary authors of these old writings. The paper is alive at the beginning of the process, will then partially disappear under the painting, to resurface under a new form. The drawing will sometimes respond, adding a new layer of meaning to it.

Body / contemplation

The women are naked. Their round shapes/curves have no beginning and no end. It’s not about their shapes/curves, nor it is about their beauty, it’s about surrendering to constant transformation and acceptance. If they were to be clothed, it would be only shapes and motifs/patterns, like drawings on their bare skin.


Nature grows according to its own laws. Like wild plants, the drawings spread over every medium/format, in a fruitful way. Like wild plants, the average 150 to 200 new drawings a year grow naturally, seeping into the skin of the painting, sometimes even to the edge of the frame or the nearby furniture. Wild animals – and their made-up shapes – are completing the jungle scenes, quiet presences of an imaginary threat.


Painting is an everyday process. I wake up early in the morning, usually between 5 and 6am, and wait for the sun to come out. First a coffee, then I start painting for an hour or so. Time stretches, the size of the painting doesn’t matter. Sometimes the lines and the colours follow the rhythm of the music I listen to that day, matching my thoughts and meditations. Every drawing is responding to itself, following an invisible path. Consciousness and creativity.