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- January 2016. The love story that brought me to this village in Alsace where I live ended six months ago. At 45, I am now alone, without a car, a job or any real prospects, surrounded by luxuriant nature, the proximity of which is not enough to calm the deep distress into which I am plunged. France, still in shock from the November terror attacks, is in a state of emergency. I feel helpless, I suffocate with contained rage. I am lost and I watch four to five films a day. I decide to record this stagnation, not by picking up a camera but by editing shots from the stream of films I watch.
- No more colors, no more leaves and no more gazes. Everything has been swamped down in a shapeless disaster. Everything's wrecked. The only thing left in the middle of a fallen universe is this shack crammed with people relieving themselves. Everything is dead and empty. Georges Hyvernaud "Skin and bones"
- Last June I met Arno, a 20-year-old boy. I fell in love with him. He didn't. To be sure I'd see him again I asked him to take part in a project. Compilation, 12 instants d'amour non partagé (Compilation, 12 moments of unshared love) came out of this. All summer long, every day from June 21st to September 21st, I asked him to come to my place to listen to music. This music was to become the sole form of dialogue between us two, telling him about my feelings, teasing him, soothing him, pushing him...