Paul Bourgeois has always remained a painter, only the use of paint and canvas disappeared during his evolution. He collects his material along railway embankments and wasteland so that his studio extends to the most lost corners. He reanimates sheets of billowing posters that have loosened themselves from their carrier and are left behind on the ground, repelled. It is not so much the advertising side, the image at the front, which is his preference, as the commercially insignificant rear. The message addressed to the public pretended to have 'eternal value' but seems to have perished in vanity. Although the remaining remains often require reinforcement, he tries to preserve and strengthen the fragile character as much as possible by handing them over to the influence of nature for months. Sometimes he crystallizes the dust from his studio and lets it whirl onto the work, fixes it, repeats the process until an interesting interplay of layers is created.
His most important artistic, technical act consists of perforating. Meticulously, deliberately, calmly, he creates a tight pattern of thousands of perforations in the form accidentally created by nature. The fully prepared surface is served by the monk in the cell.
With a relief-enhancing incidence of light, the works show themselves to the reader with the same intensity as the Rozette stone to its discoverer. Here too, the journey of discovery can now begin.