πΆβ„Žπ‘– 𝑒' π‘…π‘œπ‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘™? π‘Šβ„Žπ‘œ 𝑖𝑠 π‘…π‘œπ‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘™?

πΆβ„Žπ‘– 𝑒' π‘…π‘œπ‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘™? π‘Šβ„Žπ‘œ 𝑖𝑠 π‘…π‘œπ‘’π‘π‘Žπ‘’π‘™?

In fact, Roupaul was born when I was 16, therefore 19 years ago, a short and concise biography that spoke of a French artist: Oscar Pascal Roupaul, eclectic, who never presided over his exhibitions, an artist without a face, wrapped in an aura of mystery about his identity.

Rereading it, it finally became clear to me:

Roupaul is half of my apple, what makes me feel complete and I find this completeness in the art I make

welcome to my world

Roupaul

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