“Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don’t know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It’s that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don’t know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that’s so deeply a part of your being that you can’t even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless. ” Paul Bowles,
« Rome est ici, maintenant. L’Américain moyen n’y voit que du feu, mais elle est la réalité sous-jacente au monde où il vit. L’Empire n’a jamais pris fin. Il s’est seulement dérobé aux yeux de ses sujets. Comme on projette un film sur le mur d’une prison, il a ourdi pour eux cet univers de fantaisie, cette fiction éhontée que la plupart des spectateurs prennent pour un scrupuleux documentaire : dix-neuf siècles d’histoire et le monde qui en résulte. Mais pendant la projection la guerre continue. Ceux qui refusent de regarder le film et de le croire réel sont pourchassés impitoyablement : on ne les laisse pas sortir de la salle, on les massacre dans les toilettes. Certains, par prudence, donnent le change : ils restent assis face à l’écran, les yeux clos et l’esprit éveillé. Ils suivent leur propre voix, ils servent un autre roi » (Emmanuel Carrère, Je suis vivant et vous êtes morts, Philip K. Dick, 1928-1982, Biographie, p. 262, Ed. du Seuil)
“Rome is here now. The average American does not see it, but it is the underlying reality of the world in which he lives. The Empire never ended. He only slipped away from the eyes of his subjects. As one projects a film on the wall of a prison, it has hatched for them this world of fantasy, this shameless fiction that most spectators take for a scrupulous documentary: nineteen centuries of history and the world that results from it. . But during the projection the war continues. Those who refuse to watch the film and believe it to be real are ruthlessly hunted down: we do not let them out of the theater, they are massacred in the toilet. Some, out of prudence, give up the change: they remain seated facing the screen, their eyes closed and their minds awake. They follow their own voice, they serve another king ”
(Emmanuel Carrère, I am alive and you are dead, Philip K. Dick, 1928-1982, Biography, p. 262, Ed. Du Seuil)
Without fraternity there are no men but containers of guts and a people made of containers does not exist, it is not people. Man is made up of fraternity, when we say man we only say fraternity. And a man – or people – who place themselves at the center of life, saying ‘I’, with strong slaps on the chest, are degraded apes (while the monkey is not). (…) I write these things out of order. It is that my character is bad, it is not good, it is not tender, and immediately, when I meet presumption and cowardice that enter the territory of innocence and weakness as masters, I would like to take up arms, I would like to take a scimitar, and drop it of infected heads. But I would turn into one of them, and then the desire is gone.
« Because you are the only person I can talk with about the shade of a cloud, about the song of a thought — and about how, when I went out to work today and looked a tall sunflower in the face, it smiled at me with all of its seeds. »
The path when you reborn again in me will be exactly the same but this time i will take it in the opposite direction to immediately face the untoward winds be forever behind your back
I’ve always been interested by the poetry of neglected shipyards, ugly railway sidings and wasteland, places of desolation and neglect. Because I knew inside of me that the outer world does not support us in continuity, the street is full of heterogeneous things, but we are helped in continuity by the unconscious, this inner order is the foundation of our psyche. Everything seems to come with bewildering in consequence from all its various layers….
This what my whole conceptual life is about ….lines drawn until they fade and fuse with the surface, creating spatial depth and this process of adding layers exploits these abstract interpretations of movement, sound, mutability and evanescent light. It is an investigation of our surrounding….exactly the way one must understand his own darkness/ light and complexity. Nothing in us ever remains quite uncontradicted.
Selbstwehr 
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