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I move. I look at the floor or very far. I observe the edges, corners and the horizon.
An attention that led me to signs, places, people.
These meetings create frictions and traces.
Then I model these forms in animated or static images, with sound or silence, drawn or put into space. –
December 2013, mistral is off. An island off Marseille: Frioul
I stroll there when I see a green task littering the sand.
Digging like a dog without a leash, and after ten minutes of effort I discovered what must be a container (that stuff in ugly plastic that smells when you open their mouths)
On the front, arabesques draw the arms of an Italian city.
A night passes … I go to Marseille but I needed to go back. The next day, early in the morning, I took a boat to pick this stuff,
equip it as a backpack and bring it back to home base. I had to give him honor, and answer to his lonely
Then I filled the dump with a whole mess of stuff and add two straps.
The big day, the trash became my survival kit … a book, a map, a sketchbook, a tent, a sleeping bag, dried
fruits, water, sun cream and a tablet of Spasfon. It was a fantastic bazaar, indiferrenziato.
400 kilometers of walk, to experience the close terminology that separates the useless, the
useful and the futile. Where come these objects, what they tell us and how their stories become ours?
400 kilometers further: Cogoleto. My traveling companion is no longer mine. Madam Mayor
offers me a spinach lasagna to comfort me. Poetry is physical, it gives me appetite.
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from his most recent portfolio, a diary entry about the work ,,Salon de Marseille,, – soap, photographies- a bar of soap from Marseille pushed along its streets for the duration of seven hours. #julienfargetton