The little reason in my meadow © David Noir
The little reason in my meadow
The texts are the blades of grass and the grasses of my mental meadow. They grow anarchically and intertwine in a tight weave.
What is my creation?
To create bridges spanning a river of metaphors and to interpret the movements of its bed in contact with the bathers who get wet in it
Are you playing naked?
A new free and raw blog, as a necessary refuge for the written word. A little secret but not stuttering and spontaneously readable for anyone who would like to come there.
L'enfance de l'art © David Noir
L'Enfance de l'art
"Childhood of art", not in the sense of simplicity (can childhood be simple?), but understood as the dawn of another form: the staging of a site.
Randomness and arbitrariness of improvisation | Les Parques d'attraction - Tableau n°1 © David Noir d'après photo © Karine Lhémon
Let arbitrariness reign!
I insist here on the value that I attach to arbitrariness as the salvation of poorly fruitful creative situations offered by apparent logic.
Three nameless crosses without face | Portrait of a god © David Noir
Powerful submission
Opting for art is choosing to live under the totalitarian hold of a submissive god; one whose reign comes by absorption of whoever dominates him.
Transcribing Thinking in Three Dimensions
X, Y, Z
While looking for the solution, I'm suffocating in the Web and the 2-dimensional page. I hope for a third one for a non-linear narrative art.
David Noir | Scrap | The Nonsense of History | Photo © Karine Lhémon
Instant collages | The nonsense of history
Some improbable and primitive metamorphoses in search of those who aspire to be told only the nonsense of the stories.
David Noir | "Your child has only one eye" | The Generator | [ FRASQ ] # 8 | Photo © Bernard Bousquet
Ultra-violent art
Artists at fault, artists too weak, unable to save this world from a predatory terror... Artistic ultra-violence, where are you hiding?
True artists work in the void © David Noir
Real artists don't talk to the world
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?
the lying tree of the night blog © David Noir
joutunu
One morning, or rather one night, a new blog was born in my little family of sites, a messed-up blog, designed to collect spelling mistakes with a ladle.
