ABOUT MATHIAS VILASPASA
- Mathias Vilaspasa is a French watercolorist born in February 1966.
- Coming from a family of printers, he was trained in web design from the early days of the Internet.
- He taught web design in various art schools in Paris (Ecole Estienne, IESA).
- He develops accessible websites (for visually impaired users) for the associative world.
- During the third journey to Saint-Jacques-de-Compostelle in 2019, the American Watercolour artistic project takes shape in spirit.
- In 2020, he moves to a farm north of Ibiza (Spain) before the global pandemic.
- For three years, in contact with nature, he develops the intriguing American-Watercolor project.
- So why paint the same subject obsessively?
- The answer was revealed to him one night in June during a sacred ceremony.
- Where he consumed acacia, an entheogenic substance known around the Mediterranean sea.
- Since 2023, Mathias travels, shares his visions and the revelations made to him.
The chapters below were written in French with a jay feather that the Serpent dropped during the first ceremony.
It is translated into English by a robot and then into other languages, including French.
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- Thus, in the starry night of June 20, 2020
- On the north coast of Ibiza, in a cave at Caló de Mesa
- I drank from the cup the Acacia Magia, the thorn and its root, and saw divine visions
- The Zephyr blew upon my eyes, and they closed
- I saw a fiery storm, red and white, and in the midst, a fire
- The flame was a vehicle, illuminating the sky and its universe
- It approached me in a silent curve, and I trembled with fear
- Time stood still, the Serpent revealed itself, He was the spirit in the light
- A purple aura rippled around him, and two wings enveloped him
- Then a woman appeared, dressed in a black veil, in the final days of her childbirth
- She was the source of the soul; her name was Mana, and said in thought
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- Mathias, you have seen beyond the ephemeral, open your eyes
- Look at the book and write, chapter after chapter, what I will reveal
- Contact those who have forgotten me and those who cannot see me
- For the first ones, the oaths of childhood have been devoured by the matter
- The others are young shepherds who do not yet know the evening star
- They dwell in doubt and await a sign of fire
- You will show, but few will open their eyelids
- Let your right hand be guided by the spirit of your left hand
- Then the smoke from your paintings will sow images in the clouds
- Water has the power to ignite the consciousness of the sleeper
- The visions will be revealed by the one who desires to be awakened
North of Ibiza (Spain), June 21, 2020
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- During the night of the following month, I drank the cup of divine milk
- The vehicle appeared, and I trembled
- Mana was seated in the midst of green flames and said to me
- Watercolorist, you are the painter of inner visions
- When you present your images, they will burn for the one who sees
- By creating within the smoke, the one who sees will open their eyes
- The images will be revealed through spontaneous contemplation
- By disrupting what should be, another will be uncovered
- Like an apparition, images have the power to open the eye completely
- As a discreet agent, this light insinuates itself towards the origin
- It restores sight to the one who desires to see the top seen from the bottom and the bottom seen from the top
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- The serpent spoke and circled in a humming of blue wings
- The water will lead you, you will paint the visions on damp paper
- It is the hand that shapes your painting, become spectator
- Arabic gum in water will be your medium
- The paper will be stretched over a sycamore wooden board
- A brush made of white rabbit hair to disperse the ink and pigments
- You will measure the prototype in a harmonious dimension
- The size will be adapted for both the eye and the journey, suitable for a close-up view and distant travel
- The prototype will be enlarged into a polyptych of 36 panels
- Each panel will be independent, but when assembled, it will form the whole
- Place them between two sycamore boards and then wrap them in white linen
North of Ibiza (Spain), July 20, 2020
V
- While I was infusing the root up to its spine
- I lifted my eyes and saw the Serpent on one of the pillars
- It spread its wings and carried me into a nocturnal vision
- The darkness turned ethereal, the night a iridescent vermilion
- Watercolorist, put away your brushes by day, paint after midnight
- Paint in solitude, only a cat could be by your side
- It’s a moment of intimacy and creation within oneself
- Dive into this nocturnal water like a rope into an open mouth
- Let the pigment engulf the line, become color, and then transparency
- To the opposing twins, to your right eye and to your left eye, you shall say
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VI
- Beloved, Mana continued, take some paper and paint the visions
- Let a river of fire flow from your brush
- Let the smoke rise to the sky to form the clouds
- Let the silty water overflow so it becomes raw
- May it invade the soluble dye and prevail
- A blurry mutation will grow under your gaze
- An eternal prayer for a revelation
- A powder projected into a wedding wine
- The transformation of death into morning
- What seemed eternal, disappears in a flutter of eyelashes
- Dust dispersing in a sunbeam
North of Ibiza (Spain), February 27, 2021
VII
- Wear black and purple linen, the gold star around the neck
- For your pilgrim feet, wear leather sandals
- Let your hair grow and gather it at the highest point
- Travel light, the superfluous would weigh down your presence and slow down your quest
- Cross the middle sea, open the blue wooden door in Tangier
- One guide awaits you, she will lead you, you will recognize her by her tongue
- You will exhibit the prototypes for everyone to see
- The polyptychs will be assembled during a ceremony, we will tell you when
- You will reveal them by unrolling them from right to left until reaching the center
- They will be built for those who look from above to below
- They will be disassembled, then you will wrap them in white linen sheets
North of Ibiza (Spain), March 2, 2022
VIII
- In the tranquility of a garden planted with roses and carob trees
- I continued to paint the watercolors after midnight
- The flower was picked, and the seed was weighed in the north of Ibiza
- Then a card was drawn, adorned with a Spanish key, without a name or number
- Who, I am sure, opens and closes the doors of destiny
- So I went down the double spiral staircase
- Those going up and those going down cross paths
- Without ever seeing each other in the encounter
- They produce effects through causes in accordance with the law
- The fragrance of the Poniente blew along the path
- I went out through the garden gate, the third year, on St. John’s Day
North of Ibiza (Spain), June 18, 2023
VIIII
- Write in the seven languages I will provide, chapter by chapter
- Master your language because it is your watercolors that speak
- Free your mind, for it is through your arms that I will show you
- They will ask you for meaning and rationality
- And your response will be a question
- Do you see within the swirls of smoke?
- The one who sees will see themselves with revealed knowledge
- And the non-seer will consider themselves educated and cultured
- The experience of the image is a convergence at the top
- Seized by an invisible intuition, a clairvoyance
- It’s about illuminating the water through fire for the one who wishes to see
North of Ibiza (Spain), October 25, 2022
X
- The red gold star spins, it guides you to your path
- Opposing energies forge the spirit in incarnation
- The cosmos when you want it in a drop of water
- Earth and sky in one presence
- A sacred wheel, time by the star at its center
- 2 letters for the substance that will be dissolved
- Reversed in a revelation by the number
- It contains in the words a great truth
- It spins invisible in a circle of water
- It is a nocturnal dream, that of cyclical time
- Art is a language of fire, it is the breath seeking the verb
North of Ibiza (Spain), May 11, 2021
XI
- I will place the words in the palm of your hand
- I will hold your mouth because the speech will be in the one who sees
- Look at the infinity that crowns my head and the ivy that winds around yours
- Art exerts a considerable influence, akin to a solar disruption
- Like an eruption, watercolor has the power to ignite consciousness in their darkness
- An opening towards the prototype and capable of performing miracles
- The images reveal themselves to the observer through the power of eternal awe
- Show courage and determination for this quest
- Let your fear come, it will course through your entire being, reaching the tips of your fingers
- Until the end of your brush spreading colored water, you will let fear unfold
- Let the fear saturate the sheet of paper, and by morning, it will have been revealed
Paris (France), August 16, 2023
XII
- In the kasbah of Tangier, you cast a different gaze
- Suspended between sky and earth, between two worlds
- It’s a reversal of currents; accept this new law
- In a reversal of your choice
- An interworld, a stance towards a new resolution
- It’s a necessary moment of introspection
- Taking ownership of oneself by looking inward
- To project outward what you have seen in the light
- Look within, it’s the mirror of art
- Your right eye looks at its left eye and your left hand becomes right
- And the hand that paints, in the mirror, becomes the one that thinks
Tanger (Morocco), December 13, 2023
XIII
- Remember the desert of the Meseta where you died
- On the black and arid lands of Spain, in the field of stars
- Under the sun, you left the path for another way
- You saw the end, the eternal end of the path
- But at dusk, the lights of the village appeared, like an illusion
- The next day, you resumed the right path, a new birth
- The turnaround in the casbah operates a new time
- Open the next door in the abandonment of hope
- It’s the end of childhood, like a shedding to grow
- The time of the ephemeral in the intensity of a fraction
- The end of the dream, a waltz in three times to turn together
Tanger (Morocco), February 27, 2024
XIIII XV XVI XVII XVIII XVIIIII XXI
I like clouds… passing clouds… over there … over there … the wonderful clouds!
C. Baudelaire