On the right, Michel. On the left, one of his famous Dogs. Unless it's the other way around. On the right a dog, on the left my friend Michel.
They merge. It is himself that Michel sculpts. So my friend, you're not going to make it to your Claude, the gun of your dog is never loaded! A brandishing, threatening bone is a violin bow!
I'm going to revisit Brassens: "Time does not matter, when we're nice we're nice, we're 20, we're grandfather, when we're nice we're nice." And the mystery of art is there, you are the greatest French sculptor, Jeff Koons himself is much less creative than you, but what do you want, "with your mouth of a metic, a Jew, of a Greek herdsman", You're a good-natured gentleman who says, laughing, coming out of a collector who wanted to buy you a piece: "I have not sold anything, I do not care, we've been drunk, I'd rather have a new friend than a new customer "...
Michel, you are as good as bread; you earn less than those who do computer marketing; you sculpts with your hands, you breathe dust, you "gobble resin" because of this mask that you do not always put.
Michel I love your creations, your creativity, your heart that you tend to who wants to receive your bursts of laughter, your bursts to say your generosity. Do you remember a certain evening in Paris? It can not be said that I was in the fund that night, and to go up a gallery it is necessary, but that day, ladies and gentlemen, I saw and heard a dog speak and say to me: « Come to the workshop and take what you want. It's faithful a dog, it's generous, it does not let down those he loves ...
For that day, for your artist’s paw who is also a strong hand of man, thank you Michel ... Peace and love my Michael.
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