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Day. 26 winter and summer. the first dinner

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Day. 26 winter and summer. the first dinner

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Day 25. Printing/Paintaing my Skin to Remember

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Day 25. Printing/Paintaing my Skin to Remember

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Ça sent la fin de quelque chose.
D'un moment bien inscrit dans le temps.
Ça sent l'envie de vouloir en profiter.
D'un état de grâce installé entre deux corps qui se touchent par le biais de pixels.
Deux corps qui transposent leur fine pellicule de peau à travers un écran.
Ça sent l'envie de rien oublier ou de bien inscrire ce qui a émergé.

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Day 23. Qu'est-ce que l'amour? Love is jailed, most of the time.

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Day 23. Qu'est-ce que l'amour? Love is jailed, most of the time.

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Day 22. Is there any more layers to peal off?

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Day 22. Is there any more layers to peal off?

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Day 21. My flesh is like an old saran wrap

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Day 21. My flesh is like an old saran wrap

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My body feels like an old piece of saran wrap.

Through, in, and outside.
Rinkle. marks and gestures of time.

The flesh witch is looking to find its grace again.

My flesh feels like ordinairy riples, lines, ondulations, landscape of how the matter becomes.

The fruit as fallen from the tree, leaving behind every moment of freshness.

The becoming is a calling for acceptation and repair.

My flesh as too many histories.
My flesh says more about me that what I can share.
My flesh is the tracing path of my sorrow and joy.

My flesh is what is left after the tornado of life.

My flesh is the loan of my spirit, the garbadge of time, the thiny miroir of the stories hiding inside my heart.

My flesh is like an old saran wrap.

***

On top of this little poeme I improvised other words which complete the thinking process in relation to Ernesto.

***

I notice that on Sunday writting seem important. Writting seem to emerge. Sunday as the spacial quality where time can sit differently into my mind and into the space. There is acceptation of slowness. The pace on the street is also different. I want to research why going to church was done on Sunday.

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Day 17. Shift. meeting. Trio. Is this transparency?

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Day 17. Shift. meeting. Trio. Is this transparency?

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Day 16. The big bucket of water found in Canada

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Day 16. The big bucket of water found in Canada

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Day 14. HIV storytelling. writing. exposing. half way in the process

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Day 14. HIV storytelling. writing. exposing. half way in the process

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Je suis là. Avec toi.
Dans ce lieu improbable à toucher le coeur de la vie.
À toucher l'intérieur de l'être où les histoires font de nous les chercheurs du présent.
Je suis lè avec toi.
Avec toi, dans ce lieu improbable, où les mots se déposent doucement au creu de ma propre histoire pour devenir la notre.

Celle de notre rencontre où le dévoilement semble infini.
Où le toucher ne semble avoir de finitude.
Où chaque pas convoque vers les remous de la vie.

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Day 13. A flow. overwhelming. looking at each other simplely. Hard to do. Basement. Fragility.

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Day 13. A flow. overwhelming. looking at each other simplely. Hard to do. Basement. Fragility.

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Day 11. Body memory. Intimacy and reconcilation

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Day 11. Body memory. Intimacy and reconcilation

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Day 10. Reflection and slowmotion. playing mannequin

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Day 10. Reflection and slowmotion. playing mannequin

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Day 10. writing after meeting with Ernesto

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Day 10. writing after meeting with Ernesto

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doux et tendre

le papier comme chemin pour trouver la peau de l'autre

Si l'amour est la vie, la vie semble apparaître dans la quantité de pixels générés sur l'écran.

Quand le geste devient le fil conducteur de la pensée

Quand le geste peut incarner la complexité de l'humain

Quand le geste de ma main rencontre la tienne, l'unité semble naître.

Es-tu la partie féminine dont j'ai oublié de me préoccuper ?

Peut-être que je suis la partie masculine qui est un lieu à devenir.

La rencontre semble vouloir, désirer, devenir plus que ce que nous sommes.

Plus que moi, plus que toi mais qui peut apparaître dans la transparence de nos cellules.

Comme une fine feuille de papier prête à être infusée par notre chair.

soft and gentle

the paper as the route to find the skin of each other

If love is life than life seems to appear in the amount of pixels generated within the screen

When gesture becomes the thinking lead

When the gesture can embody the complexity of the human

When the gesture of my hand meet yours, unity seems to arise.

Are you the feminine part which I forgot to care about

Maybe I am the masculine part witch as a place to become

The meeting seems to wants, to désire, to become more than what we are

More than me, more than you but can appear in the transparency of our cells.

Like a thin sheet of paper ready to be infused by our flesh

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Day 9. Cohabitation of the Real and the Virtual 

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Day 9. Cohabitation of the Real and the Virtual 

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Day 8. La mémoire est une feuille de papier chiffonné

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Day 8. La mémoire est une feuille de papier chiffonné

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Day 3. Temporality of the passer-by on Saint-Denis street

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Day 3. Temporality of the passer-by on Saint-Denis street