Diary of the Parks J-30
It is, when all that remains to my senses is the fleeting and deep trace like a gash, what I retain of a spectacle... or of a man: the preserved void.
psyche
It is, when all that remains to my senses is the fleeting and deep trace like a gash, what I retain of a spectacle... or of a man: the preserved void.
I interpreted the idea of designing a coat of arms as the idea of adorning a shield. Its center symbolizes my project. This is the part that interested me the most.
A handful of love for a handful of euros | I like to conceive relationships in the light of a consensual, fair and shared prostitution
The happy exhibition of the penis, flaccid or rigid, as a condition for the free expression of a simple and fulfilled masculinity.
What is my intelligence today? How is it modified, shaped daily, stimulated by my time?
Poetry of micro betrayal, invisible to the eye, but so strongly felt that it takes years to express its substance, to draw its outlines.
Between denial and rewards, the ordinary little fascism of parental education could be seen in the expressions on my father's face.
To understand a new era is to adapt the course of one's mental images to new speeds and scales relative to this new world.
"You understand, erotic nudity is so much stronger than pornographic brutality..." "Yes, yes... and my ass? " I would answer soberly.
Refusal: the tunnel to be dug to freedom. No forgiveness for guilt in the face of the other's benevolent threat camouflaged as solicitude.