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One cannot say that Dominique Boucher was born a pen ball with the hand, but also far that it remembers it always had a pen within reach, for gribouiller initially (during the courses with the college, very often) then to put in form and color the few visions of a world unhealthily interiorized.Dominique Boucher is a painter. finally he has the claim to rise with the rank of painter; statute which is frequently denied to him, including by its pars, for the reason which its working tools are neither of the brushes, neither of the tubes of colors, nor of the fabrics, but of simple ball point pens. Therefore, he is a painter. amateur, in the direction where he did not see his painting yet (although - and in spite of the innate indispositions from which he suffers: hypocondria, the claustrophobia, agoraphobia, giddiness heights like that the depths - it practises daily). Dominique Boucher does not paint to live, but it saw to paint (noone will undoubtedly think of a exercise of style, a pleasure of handling the words. with these it ensures to them that it of it is nothing). For him, the act to paint is neither a leisure, nor a pastime, even less one profession. but a direction given to its life. An act, overflowing of sincerity, conviction, honesty. this painter wants that his painting can be capable of reason, with the direction where it is the cause or the legitimate reason of a thought, a mood, a recreation. the research of beautiful, the intention to communicate, the simple gesture of a personal pleasure. Since for this painter, it would be inconceivable, without any improper doubt to propose with the public a slapdash work, a rough outline, a thing without personal and artistic ambition. Thus, of table in table, Dominique Boucher tries to connect the reality of the things with the imaginary one of the man (who it is), the prosaicness of the daily newspaper with the poetry of the thought (or the reverse), and to be expressed fully, its painting had need for a technique prohibiting any precipitation, obliging with prudence and the reflexion. The pen ball excluding any repentance, each composition requires an absolute self-control and proscribes the improvisation. As for his life, Dominique Boucher wishes to make his painting, and at each second, a considered gesture. with the human claim (or the naive illusion) that the day will come where its painting will be, and for what it is, the beautiful reason which was to give to him to live.
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