By dint of contorting oneself to be accepted, one ends up breaking one's spine. Art doesn't make a profession of having a supple spine. Neither do I, who am not a gymnast.
Maybe you won't, either, if you're not a worm. I want to stay a stranger.

I WANT TO STAY A STRANGER.
Incomplete Things | Good, Evil and Other Absolute Things Quickly Seen

I want to remain a stranger | Visual © David Noir
"I want to remain a stranger" - Visual © David Noir 2018 - Perfs et fracas festival! - Mains d'Œuvres - The Generator

Does a stranger always have to have a crooked nose?

Stranger to everything ? Stranger to you ?

I love the Eldorado of my little imaginary dictatorship and I dream of a world where my beloved fools would never have a voice. But this time I take it from them; I give it to them. In memory of us, in memory of you... In mirror of us. Mirror of you.

I want to say that this is not my world. I want to say that I don't want this urban, civic, social conviviality of every moment that life together would like to run after, it seems. I want to say that your sharing, the obligatory value of our times, is suffocating me. That your debate... ah the debate, the ideas of others. Do I need it? No, I don't think so. I don't feel anything of the sort. I long for the city, not dead, but extinguished and unseeing. The translucent cityNot pink, not green, not any other colour. The look that respects me is also the look that does not look at me. And somehow none of this is my business. Your festive excitement makes me borderline nauseous. There is no identity in following the collective. I want to remain an outsider.

In the social venues of the masquerade, you don't make art, let alone invite it. By going to your spaces of shared conviviality, you trample on it. There is only shit you walk in like this, without realizing where you have set foot.

By dint of contorting oneself to be accepted, one ends up breaking one's spine. Art doesn't make a profession of having a supple spine. Neither do I, who am not a gymnast. Maybe you're not a gymnast either, if you're not a worm. I want to remain a stranger.

Perfs et Fracas | The Generator | Works of art | Graphic design : Birgit Brendgen
Perfs et Fracas | The Generator | Works of art | Graphic design : Birgit Brendgen

 

Loving the other because he loves you is the first of cowardice. Wanting to please in order to be loved is the second.

We must not ask more of human nature than it can give.

The answers do not bring new questions but other even more narrow answers. The scope of an oxygen-free scenario is very limited. It seems to make sense, but it doesn't open up anything.

There is everywhere this fierce love of morbidity, of anti-poetry. Well, almost everywhere. I'm talking about what works enough to survive; what is relatively successful, what some people follow with interest. Fortunately, there are also a few series, a few video games that we don't understand everything and that don't care about an appearance of rationalism to be true.

Sewn Mouse | Photo © David Noir
Sewn Mouse | Photo © David Noir

Refusing is the best thing there is to do...

Opening up isn't being nice, stupid.

Loving is just being stupid.

To say no is to distance yourself.

Then we'll see.

And again.

I'm not sure.

Live audio | Capture

Perhaps the first misogyny to give up would be to break with the idea that women are beautiful...

You only have to go out into the street to see that this is not particularly the case. No more than for other things; people, dogs, cats, trees. Or maybe everyone is. Neither beautiful nor good, neither ugly nor sweet. In that case, the women concerned should also give up this little legend that most of them contribute to maintaining. You'll tell me that today even the old decativists are beautiful, won't you? Everything is beautiful, everything is ugly and children are wonderful, right?

In these jovial and humorous times, we do what we can to swallow the silhouette of death, but there's like a stop at the throat, don't you think?

Come on; it's not bad, but can do better. Go back to studying; unplug your facebook and think with your only brain in silence; the only true one that exists; the silence of death.

Your complacency is your bullshit, remember?

We always see the cowards hiding behind the law. It's a strong habit, this creeping attitude passing for citizenship. It hates cops and comes to say, M'sieur, m'sieur he hurt me. The collabos are now on social networks with their ouh ouh punishment punishment, ah ah ah indignation indignation. They are always where it shouts loudest. But if it's to say that the bad guys are bad, there's really no need to think or to be an artist, engaged as they say. Yes, but by whom?

Thinking you're a good person is the most inept, vain and reprehensible thing in the world from my little vantage point.

As such, I think I have more sympathy for the frank bastards than for the informers. Finally, let's not exaggerate. Besides, these second ones are probably exactly the same as the first ones, with less balls? Thought adorned with humanism oozes here and there in a few comments of revolt that don't cost much, in three keystrokes on a computer keyboard. It's like a drop of piss making its way down the slope of a vast thigh. We'll see who will shout the loudest haro at the jackass until he gets some advantage out of it.

But I understand fear; that's all I understand.

"You're not my project. You're not my face." | I want to remain a stranger. Visual © David Noir
"You're not my project. You're not my face" | I want to remain a stranger | Visual © David Noir

I want to remain a stranger
visible violence

A little brutality in this world of poetry. I love the Eldorado of my little imaginary dictatorship and I dream of a world where my beloved imbeciles would never have the floor. But this time, I take it from them; I give it to them. Your complacency is your bullshit, remember? And your cowardice is your way of life. So...
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