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"To summarize my art would be like summarizing my life...which is an imaginary voyage. Our memory, or most of it, is imaginary. We think that we remember 'reality'; but as time goes by, 'reality' is changed.

That is why I call it imaginary memory. We imagine that we remember. I look at my life as a voyage, from I don't know where, to I don't know where. The rest of life consists of imagined memory.

So, it comes to how to react to reality, what impressions it leaves on me, and what feeling I generate."

Alexander P. Sachal


After the war, after Marie Francoise saved my life I became some kind of international vagrant in France. I was enjoying my life by being alone. I didn’t have any job; I didn’t have any apartment; and I didn’t really have any permanent residence in France. But somehow, I’ve been married twice. Failure. I was happy to be alone. But everything in life happens unexpectantly. 

Many years by being by myself, and I met many woman on the free beginnings, not married, not living together. There were many of it. Usually I was happy,…and cold blooded; they came and went and there was emptiness.

One day a group of friends came over to my apartment to look at my art works. And among them was Carol. In the whole group, she was the most colorful and I was enjoying conversation with her and I felt that I was sitting next to a sleeping volcano. There was no thought in my head about her as a sexual object, and during our conversation, I understand that this attractive woman cannot be by herself.

I never tried to seduce a woman to myself. That’s why I kept conversation as a good gentleman and didn’t pretend to be nobleman, but I really wanted to meet her on friendly starts. She gave me her card, and signed that she is “improviser of life”. I put this card in my pocket. Friends gone, and so gone, Carol. Everybody has right to each’s private life. But her face stayed deep in secret place in my memory. As a well-organized person, I lost this card. When I asked my friend for her phone number, he wouldn’t give it to me. 

I married one German woman with which I didn’t have life-contact. Two years later, I got her, Carol’s, number and called her. All my thoughts about her, that she got a family, she got a husband, lover, everything flew away as fog in San Francisco. 

The volcano blew and enveloped me with its smoke of love for life. And this volcano has embraced me in a cloud of love for the last 30 years.


Gallery 3
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