2022.204 pop art photography letter manuscript painting print surrealism


You can acquire the entire collection or each painting in a unique or limited edition


LOT1: 120 X 120 CM - MONUMENTAL

Single edition. Signature date numbering on the work. 

Original creation. Dimensions: 120 X 120 CM. Ready to hang.

Materials: fine art print on paper, glued under acrylic glass, lamination on metal plate.


LOT2: 60 X 60 CM - MEDIUM

Limited edition of 4 copies. Signature date numbering on the work. 

Original creation. Dimensions: 60 X 60 CM. Ready to hang.

Materials: fine art print on paper, glued under acrylic glass, lamination on metal plate.


LOT3: 30 X 30 CM - MINIATURE

Limited edition of 6 copies. Signature date numbering on the work.

Original creation. Size: 30 X 30 CM. Ready to hang.

Materials: fine art print on paper, glued under acrylic glass, lamination on metal plate.


DIGITAL EXPERIENCE

You buy and pay, you place an order for an original numbered print

A proof is sent to a specialized laboratory for production and shipping


COLLECTIBLES & WORKS OF ART

Certificates of authenticity invoices issued to each buyer

Save the Patrick Nicolas store to follow the latest offers 

House museum of the circular economy and digital heritage


ABOUT THE ARTIST


Patrick Nicolas alias PN born in 1964 in Mirecourt Vosges Lorraine France


TEXT AT WORK


“One bullet leads to another. Alone in the middle of the night, we start to freak out. It's a game, but a dangerous game. It wasn't planned this way but now it's turning into downright carnage. We don't know why it deviated this way. We are here, in the middle and we play whoever loses wins. Living is a game. Whoever dies is out of the game. As long as we're alive, we play. At night, in the middle of turning pages, we might still find it strange. It's completely normal to be there while most others are heading in the opposite direction. You couldn't know in advance what you were going to get into. The reader never knows the story that is being told. He follows what he is told and invents a sequel to the sequel in his own way. Each image shows something that has been missing for a long time. Someone is eating someone else's nose. We don't know these deaths. We don't know what the hell we're doing here either. The living don't know why they are there. You will tell me, what difference does it make to die of this or something else? A corpse lies on the ground, its throat cut. He's not breathing anymore. Do you think he could still be alive? He doesn't move anymore. The eyes are open. He is dead ! Make no mistake, he's just pretending he's not there anymore. The game is to pretend you are dead. That said, no one can play dead for long. After the time of the game, the I resurfaces and there, everything sets in motion. The dead man begins to tell a bunch of things, some more improbable than the others. And let him continue to emerge from his initial torpor. All the dead can come back screaming like this, all it takes is for life to start again. It feels like we've returned to the fallen place we started with. No, no, you are somewhere else. In the middle of an island, in the heart of an ocean, where people never find themselves when they explain that they work to retire and then, only then, to devote themselves to what they love. Living is before or after, well, we don't really know anymore. A person takes the risk of telling what happened to him during his life. I spent years playing dead and the day I realized that I was really going to die, I had a start or a revelation, I left everything behind and devoted myself to what I loved. What do you like ? Nothing ! Doing nothing is like inventing everyday life with three pieces of string and four things. I was there, I couldn't breathe, I was suffocating. Every day I got up to suffocate. I was going to a battlefield to kill the other. I didn't know that killing was forbidden. Everyone was doing it. It was normal. The norm was to kill the other and then retreat and no longer be talked about. I was there. I then left everything behind because I realized that dying is not living and vice versa. I now make a difference. Often, we wait until we have health problems to react. Suddenly, the fear is health. Are you in good health? Have you done any tests to see if everything is working well? Frankly, they seem like well-oiled machines used to conquer and acquire. I am not a machine. I realized that I was a machine programmed to kill others. I shouldn't say what was on my mind, especially not. I had to keep quiet and put on a good face. It was the condition to keep my place. It's important to have space when you don't know what you're doing. I had a good job, good income, enriching relationships with colleagues, clients, suppliers and I could then go wherever I wanted to revisit the world. I felt like I was on a permanent visit. I left my house to go to other people's houses and everything worked as if nothing had happened. I was nothing. I had a clearly established identity. I was respected. I had money, a good situation and people to talk to. I exchanged a lot with others. Only, I had just forgotten the essential thing. What happens to you when no one is around? The death ? The life ? The silence ? And what is love in that? Do you experience love like an island in the middle of the ocean? I didn't know love was there. I thought hanging out with people was enough. I had friendships, family and sexual relationships. We talked to each other, we liked each other and we made love and above all not war. If it was war, I would stop everything. Very quickly, I said, I'm not here for that. I want a good job, a good income, friends, relationships, vacations, a good vacation where I can have fun and enjoy what life offers me. I was there. I'm still there I think. But I'm missing the essentials. I do not know what it is. I'm lost. It's empty. It's scary. After all this that I said, I admit to being afraid, so afraid of dying. I feel like I haven't really lived. It's crazy, I know. Living is not that. I do not know what it is. I now see dead people everywhere. I'm afraid of getting sick and being infected by some virus. Work no longer matters. I don't care about vacations. As for retirement, I had a completely different idea. »


PATRICK NICOLAS

The soul of creation


Model N240

“One bullet leads to another. Alone in the middle of the night, we start to freak out. It's a game, but a dangerous game. It wasn't planned this way but now it's turning into downright carnage. We don't know why it deviated this way. We are here, in the middle and we play whoever loses wins. Living is a game. Whoever dies is out of the game. As long as we're alive, we play. At night, in the middle of turning pages, we might still find it strange. It's completely normal to be there while most others are heading in the opposite direction. You couldn't know in advance what you were going to get into. The reader never knows the story that is being told. He follows what he is told and invents a sequel to the sequel in his own way. Each image shows something that has been missing for a long time