It's a great terxt in french...Trying to translate it :
Remembering the fertility of the night.

The sky disappears from our sight, drowned under megawatts of artificial light. Despite a plethora of digital images engulfing our screens, the sky escapes us, gradually fading from our environment and our imagination. The gods have deserted the sky leaving a sidereal , immaterial vacuum, that only perhaps, artists and scientists go on questioning. Their eyes cling to the questions and paradoxes that give the cosmos its fascinating aspect. In a Western over-informed world where the image is on movement, for good or bad, artists remain those who allow doubt to exist . A saving doubt. The issue of real remains relevant, of modernism that includes color, and between dreams and scientific images, the artist always enjoys measuring the gap between what we see and what we believe . Between what our ideology dictates to us and what our thought reveals to us. Space, like a tremendous dream machine , re-enchants and worries us, successively. We all embrace more or less violently, our doubts and concerns about the issue of the sky.