Fleur d'air 1959

Jean Dubuffet made this textural piece called Fleur d'air, or Flower of Air, and it kind of looks like the name, right? Like some kind of dry desert wind has scattered particles across the surface. I can imagine Dubuffet, smearing and stippling a range of beige tones—like the color of sand—to get this effect. It makes me think of Cy Twombly, with a similar interest in marks that feel both ancient and like a form of language. Looking at it, I feel how Dubuffet must have been chasing a feeling, a sensation of movement. Did he even know what it would look like? I can imagine him making a mark and then another in response, feeling his way through the process. In fact, that's what being an artist is all about: starting something, fucking it up, and finding something new in the attempt. Maybe that's why I feel such kinship with artists like Dubuffet, an ongoing conversation of making, unmaking, and remaking.