CONTACT MV - AMERICAN WATERCOLOR by MV

Vilaspasa is a French watercolor artist born in 1966 near the Puy de Dôme (France)
Coming from a family of printers, he was trained in web design during the early days of the Internet
He taught web design in various art schools in Paris (Ecole Estienne, IESA)
He develops web accessibility sites (for visually impaired users) for the nonprofit world
During the third journey to Santiago de Compostela, the artistic project American Watercolor takes shape in spirit
In 2020, he settles on a farm in the north of Ibiza (Spain) before the global pandemic
In contact with nature and the elements, he develops the intriguing project American Watercolor
Vilaspasa puzzles with his graphic choices, as evidenced by his watercolors of American cars on fire
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
Discover below what was revealed to him on this date and the following ones

mv@american-watercolor.org

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Thus, in the deep night of June 21, 2020
On the north coast of Ibiza, in a cave at Caló de Mesa
I drank from the cup, the Acacia Noctis, the thorn and its root, and saw divine visions
The Poniente breeze blew over my eyelids, and they closed
I saw a fiery storm, red and white, and in the midst, a fire
The flame was a starry vehicle, illuminating the sky and its universe
It approached me in a silent curve, and I trembled with fear
The Serpent revealed itself for the first time, he was the knowledge of light
Two wings enveloped him, and an undulating aura emanated from his body
Then a young black woman appeared before me, the contrary stars on her heart
She was the source of my soul, I heard her loving voice, she was called M

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Watercolorist, you have seen beyond the ephemeral, open your eyes
Look at the book and show without revealing what you have hidden until now
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 second matter
The others are young shepherds who do not yet know the morning star
They dwell in doubt and await a sign of water
You will warn them, but few will desire to open their eyelids
It is in dreams that your visions will be born
And it is in the intuition of your consciousness that you will paint
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

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During the night of the following month, I drank the cup of divine milk
The vehicle appeared, and I trembled
The Serpent spoke to me in a buzz of wings
Artist, you are the painter of your inner visions
When you will showcase your watercolors, they will burn for the seer
By creating within the smoke, the one who sees will open their eyes
The images will reveal themselves by a floating observation
By disrupting what should be, another is uncovered
Like a revelation, 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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You will close your eyelids to see
The water will lead you, you will paint her visions on damp paper
It is the hand that shapes your painting, become spectator
Gum arabic will be your medium, and the pigment a messenger
The paper will be stretched on a board of applewood
A brush made of white rabbit hair to disperse the ink and pigments
You will calculate the prototype by dividing a line into extreme and average reason
The prototype will be enlarged into a polyptych of 36 movable panels
The polyptychs will be assembled and disassembled during your travels
Place the entirety within a black acacia box with harmonious dimensions
The opposing star engraved at the center and covered in red gold

V

While I infused the root until its thorn
I looked up and saw the Serpent on one of the pillars
He spread his wings and carried me into a nocturnal vision
The darkness has turned ethereal, the night of an iridescent green color
Aquarellist, put away your brushes during the day, paint at night in solitude
Never paint in the presence of a person, only a wise cat could come
It’s a moment of intimacy and creation in the chamber
Plunge into this nocturnal water like a rope into an open mouth
Let the pigment invade you, become silica and dissolution
To the opposed twins, to your right eye and your left eye, you shall say

VI

Beloved, M continued, take some paper and paint my 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 from the flooded river
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
An oil of myrrh spreads towards the flame
It is through the darkness and its offerings that you will know its depth

VII

Wear black and purple linen with the opposite stars hanging on your heart
For your pilgrim feet, wear leather sandals
Let your hair grow to the shoulders and gather it at the highest point
Journey, visit the cities, the 3 roses and their thorns
Cross the celestial river, you will find the guides that will be sent to you
You will show your watercolors in the eyes of all
But only in the light on the first Wednesday of the month
On that day, your watercolors will be exhibited in a consecrated place
Light some candles, it’s a party with the world
I heard a long trumpet three times, and my mind was swept away
I arrived at Benirràs, where I stayed in the farmhouse that saw my re-birth

VIII

In the tranquility of a garden planted with roses and carob trees
I kept painting the prototypes after midnight
The flower has been picked and the seed weighed
Then a card appeared, it is neither numbered nor named
This card opens and closes the doors of the Fate castle
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 zephyr blew along the path
I crossed the garden gate, the third year, on the day of Saint John

VIIII

Write in the languages I will give you, said M
Master your language because it is your watercolors that speak
Free your mind, for it is through your arms that I will guide 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 as a paranoid person
And the one who does not see will consider themselves educated
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 those who wish to see

X

You will recognize the pentacle and make it a symbol
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
An operation of the three times by the five directions

XI XII XIII XIIII XV XVI XVII XVIII XVIIIII XXI

The original text above was written with a feather that the Serpent dropped during the first ceremony. It is translated by a robot into the other languages.

“ … I like clouds… passing clouds… over there … over there … the wonderful clouds! “ C. Baudelaire

Rafael Pérez Arroyo · Pair Dance