It's called the relationship
My great adaptability is an absolute violence to me. I hate any relationship that forces me to do so. Rare is the one that goes the way I want it to.
The blog of a naked actor
My great adaptability is an absolute violence to me. I hate any relationship that forces me to do so. Rare is the one that goes the way I want it to.
Artists at fault, artists too weak, unable to save this world from a predatory terror... Artistic ultra-violence, where are you hiding?
There's a wolf waiting for me at the end of the highway. Pay up carnivorous age. Doesn't mean I took a wrong turn.
A day of participatory naked or dressed performance led by David Noir, to try to bring a little truth to the game, if not to life.
Most of us are prey and we would like to do without predators. What will we be capable of without claws and fangs?
In a society of puppets, it is natural to become puppets. It remains to be able to endow them with singular bodies and adequate heads.
Enough to bivouac after the attacks and to take the air on a motorway area where you can park to enjoy the clear sky.
Artists, the real ones who would have something to say, hate the world and won't say anything to it, right? And it's much better that way, isn't it?
Violence and harshness are in the air. "Fond d'âme mental", a poetic text written on November 1, 2015, before the terror came.
A walk backwards towards the birth of a collective improvisation based on the participatory performance Iconicum given to the Generator.