I’m Julien Guinet, I was born in 1984, and I draw and paint—paint that I’ve been making myself for several years (that detail matters).
I’ve always loved drawing.
I’ll admit, that sentence couldn’t be more cliché coming from an “artist,” yet it’s the true starting point of my career choice. When I was younger, I watched a lot of cartoons and read quite a few comics and mangas, then I’d recreate my favorite superheroes in my sketchbooks. I have to confess that I had an unparalleled passion for Dragon Ball Z (especially Son Gohan—his fight against Cell… Mamma Mia, pure cinema!!!).
I grew up in Mazamet, a small town in the Tarn region, where my youth went by quietly, without any major drama or particular trauma.
Over the years, my passion for drawing didn’t fade—on the contrary. My school notebooks were filled with more drawings than lesson notes.
In 2002, during my final year of high school, a classmate gave a presentation on graffiti, and I can truly say that was a turning point. That very evening, I grabbed two cans of spray paint I had lying around at home and, after politely asking my parents for permission (I was a respectful child), I drew my first lines on the garage walls. Very quickly, this activity transformed into an unhealthy obsession. It was all I could think about, from morning till night.
That same year, after getting my baccalaureate (without much fanfare), I enrolled in the Fine Arts faculty at Mirail, in Toulouse. A fine institution where I set foot no more than three times, due to lack of time. I must admit, I was far too busy perfecting my spray paint skills in abandoned industrial sites.
Graffer était devenu une activité quotidienne, presque comme un travail avec des horaires de bureau. À ce moment-là, je savais que je ne pourrais pas faire autre chose de ma vie.
Pourtant, je promets avoir tout tenté pour éviter cela, notamment en m’essayant à plusieurs autres jobs, considérés comme plus sûrs sur le plan économique. C’était une perte de temps car je savais au fond de moi que je gaspillais mon énergie (et celle de mes chefs) pour rien… Finalement, je finissais toujours par démissionner, avec le rêve de vivre uniquement de mon art.
In 2006, I went to Argentina for six months of vacation, with the firm intention of visiting the country, painting on a few facades, and learning Spanish.
Two months after I arrived, my desire to travel led me to Salta, a city in the northwest, over 1,500 kilometers from Buenos Aires. And there, I fell in love with the city. I liked everything about it: the friendliness of the people, the surrounding landscapes, and a life that seemed simpler than back in France. Without overthinking it (at twenty-two, you don’t worry about those things), I decided not to return to France and to stay there to live.
Very quickly, I had to own that choice. Since I wasn’t a wealthy heir, this whim meant finding an activity that would allow me to support myself…
That’s when I told myself it was time to turn my passion for painting and illustration into a profitable career.
My career as an artist could begin.
At first, I sold my drawings at craft markets, then, one thing led to another, and my work ended up on display in bars, restaurants, and decor shops. Later, a few galleries opened their doors to me, and after a few years, I had the opportunity to present my work in various museums across the country.
In short, I was fully living my new life as an exiled artist.
But all good things come to an end, and in 2016, after ten years in Argentina, I felt the need to return to France. I first moved back to Mazamet (as a reminder: the town where I grew up), then very quickly moved to Toulouse, wanting to use this change to start a new chapter in my painting. For years I had been painting curvy, cheerful, happy women, but I wanted to move on to something else.
I then chose to tackle a very dark, current theme, completely opposite to my usual subjects: the seventh continent, an expanse of plastic waste the size of a continent floating on the ocean’s surface. I wanted to convey a direct, clear, and concise message, which I chose to illustrate by depicting marine animals with a cutaway showing their bellies filled with trash.
As the paintings progressed, a problem arose: the pieces were painted with acrylic, a plastic polymer, which was in total contradiction with what I wanted to express. This sparked a major personal reassessment, leading me to develop more natural painting techniques in line with my new artistic intentions.
This decision was undoubtedly one of the most important of my career as an artist, as it completely transformed my artistic practice.
At the end of 2023, a new project took root in my mind: creating my own dye plant garden to take my approach even further!
After some research online, I came across an ad: “Former artists’ village opens its doors to new creative hands to revive its artistic spirit.” One of the houses for rent had a garden! Hurrah, I thought I had found exactly what I was looking for! This village is Châtel-Montagne, a hamlet located about thirty kilometers from Vichy. I applied, and a few days later, the response arrived: “We are happy to announce that your application has been approved by the town council team.”
The move took place in February 2025; I was as happy as a lark, ready to start a new adventure!
A new adventure that unfortunately ended the following year, due to numerous disagreements with the mayor.
I had to look for a new place, and it was in a house with a garden in Bellerive-sur-Allier, a neighboring town of Vichy, that I settled down to continue my story.
