Makeshift Camp, 2018
Not without pain, I was able to cross over the fortifications, the iron belt, that kept me apart from wealth. And I have became skilled in the way of building short-lived resorts. I would give as an example these works scattered along the way of my pilgrimage. Their aim is not to stay in their homeland. In a remote time, I would have been proud to build the home that protects my beloved ones. But they are not all by my side. Tonight, I’m cold. I am still awake with other unwanted… I want some supplies then establish an empire without spilling any blood, except mine, along with my sweat.
You could call these skin rashes an aggregate of secondary raw materials that are, as far as I am concerned, needed for the minds of us all. But I am positive that in the future, researchers will wander about this lack of regard concerning this technicality, vessel of knowledges combined to enliven the everyday life in an unfriendly environment.
As a matter of fact, while waiting for a welcoming land, I have built a makeshift shelter on stilts. The city puts on its white coat, my tent looks like an igloo… not so spotless, as the utter scorn has stained my soul.
I am mortal, my aesthetic will survive.
Text by Jean-Charles Lopy