"
Susan Boulet has a more muted step, or perhaps she is invisible and more soft-voiced, soft-gestured, as the images do not escape from her. She can return from her voyages with intact descriptions, with the elusive profiles of our prophets, our fairytale lovers, our story-tellers, our personages from a thousand and one nights, from medieval forests only known to unicorns, from places never visited by us which we remember.
Susan Boulet is the alchemist who loves gold as a symbol of transcendence, who saw fish with bird's wings, warriors with peacock profiles, the unicorn himself transporting a kidnapped princess. She captures the spirits who dance in the sun's rays. We always did want to see the spirit of a tree. Susan did. She brings us every detail of leaf and finger intertwined, eyes and roots not visible to human eyes. The holy family so frozen; in our holy books beam three radiant faces within one egg. Neptune is guarded by a sea-horse, the medieval princess wears a peaked veil like a rain of gold, as fragile as a mayfly. Susan has her own mythology; it is of the elements which haunt our childhood and persist in our dreams. In her world all events, animals, people, flowers, and costumes are iridescent. Lovers are intertwined like lianas, some of the figures levitate, others are bathed in sunrays. She invents flowers with eyes and ears, colors not in our daily palette. Her world is a rich, fecund one, an evanescent world usually eluding us, now in our possession."
Anaïs Nin
