The wall surrounding the Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba is decorated with geometric motifs. This activates the part of my brain that loves puzzles. The trap in this situation is to disconnect from the model and to continue the logical sequence on the sheet without looking up. I try to maintain my attention by looking for the roughness, the small asymmetry which makes the particularity of the subject. The defects of the facade make it unique. It also tells that it ha been shaped by a human hand.

I drew here ten years ago. I have been waiting for the opportunity to come back. I have never forgotten the feeling of infinite space provided by the alignment of columns with multicolored marbles. In front of the door, my ticket in hand, I do a quick calculation. We are allowed to stay inside two hours. Painting on a large format will take me an hour and a half, or more. I will have to choose an angle of view quickly and will not see much else. Never mind. The most important thing for me is to be able to paint the Mezquita a second time.

Inside, I enjoy the morning light and the quiet atmosphere for a few minutes. Prayers have echoed here for centuries, the air is full of whispered wishes. I put my stool in a discreet corner and start sketching. It's 9am, and it's already 40 degrees outside. I'm so focused that my head hurts. People try to talk to me, I answer with a tight smile and indistinct sounds. By tracing the curve of the arches, I think of the concentration needed by Formula 1 drivers at each turn. The ringing of a bell announces the closing of the doors. I add a character on the left to give the scale of the place.

When I find my 2012 notebook, I look for the difference. I notice that in ten years of practice, my line has become clearer, more assertive. But what surprises me is the similarity. On the two compositions, I find the same character on the left, who takes a photo in an identical posture, surrounded by an arcade and a floor that disappear in the same way. I evolve on a base that remains the same.