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Blue, red, purple, where the seas never meet

Pauline Perplexe, Paris, 2017

My work starts with sensations. Not necessarily specific ones, but always precise and demanding. They soon find forms to inhabit. Suitable marriages. Legitimate attachments. Stuff collected. Brides gathered. Dictated by compulsive behaviours from within. One follows the other. Guests. Observers. Intruders. They start to grow. Take up more and more space. Occupy every inch. Possess the drugged and drowsy bones. Flow over. Detach from the matter that gave rise to them. Float. Float. Slightly above.


The brides walk behind. The walk towards-away.


Underneath their surfaces. Repetitions. One eternity more. When is something too much? 


They know no boundaries.

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