There's a system. And in that system, a mixture of genera and species. Both are simple collages. The teeth of one, the chromosome of the other; the vital functions of one, the sexual appetite of the other. No one knows where it comes from or when it will end. Yet these are the usual questions. They each have their own meaning. Almost all questions have a meaning, meanings, integrated into this system and which make this system. The only question that doesn't make any sense is: Who am I? There are also sentences that have a very low range meaning, but usually float in the language like : I made an appointment for you. But you didn't show up. Why didn't I come? With a simple radio button you can hear all these words, these groans of agony, cruelty, joy; these grunts, these songs, this suffering; a whole collection of sounds. It is an important activity among beings to turn this knob and produce or make these sounds heard - never silence. It is not the only one. Images also pass but we don't know why. We receive the images. Since we have existed, we have received them without asking for them, without ever really wanting them. Sounds too, but we have learned to utter them in our turn. While images, no. We don't make them. We are the image. We are the pixels. We form it. Without us, there is no image. But always sound.

Above all, don't look for a single meaning; I hate thematic works.

Introduction (excerpt) | Scrap © David Noir - All rights reserved