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Etienne / Pascal/ Au Voleur/ Chevaux Mash


Les Enfants Fous

Psychiatriques Lip-synch by Chevaux Mash

Chevaux Mash C’est ma vie 

Les chevaux et le garçon qui les a aimés. Je ne sais pas ce que signifie au risque. Ils disent tous que je suis fou. Je suis à risque d’être plus fou. Je suis fou. Ils m’ont enfermé dans Paris psychiatrique. Mon identité est étrange.

Mash horses is my life

Horses and the boy who loved them. I do not know what it means to risk. They all say I'm crazy. I am likely to be more crazy. I'm crazy. They locked me in Paris psychiatry. My identity is strange.

***

J’adore travailler avec vous, les enfants fous de Paris.

Timothée Bârrus

http://TIM@SHOWMEYOURLIFE.ORG

 

Au Voleur

“Au voleur

C’est ma vie. 

Ma vie est nulle

Il est baisé

Je déteste ma vie. 

Mais je suistoujours se battre pour elle

Je ne sais pas si ce combat vaut la peine. Je suis le voleur.”

 

"Thief. It's my life. My life sucks. It is fucked. I hate my life. But I suistoujours fight for it. I do not know if this fight is worthwhile. I am the thief. "

This video was sent to us by a young man who is a bicycle thief. He heard about us through Saint-Lazare hospital where there is a clinic where he is treated. — t

 

stanley kunitz

“I have walked through many lives,
some of them my own,
and I am not who I was,
though some principle of being
abides, from which I struggle
not to stray.
When I look behind,
as I am compelled to look
before I can gather strength
to proceed on my journey,
I see the milestones dwindling
toward the horizon
and the slow fires trailing
from the abandoned camp-sites,
over which scavenger angels
wheel on heavy wings.
Oh, I have made myself a tribe
out of my true affections,
and my tribe is scattered!
How shall the heart be reconciled
to its feast of losses?
In a rising wind
the manic dust of my friends,
those who fell along the way,
bitterly stings my face.
Yet I turn, I turn,
exulting somewhat,
with my will intact to go
wherever I need to go,
and every stone on the road
precious to me.
In my darkest night,
when the moon was covered
and I roamed through wreckage,
a nimbus-clouded voice
directed me:
“Live in the layers,
not on the litter.”
Though I lack the art
to decipher it,
no doubt the next chapter
in my book of transformations
is already written.
I am not done with my changes.”

 

Cinemateque Films: Art Education: Students are allowed access to fair use art materials and mixed media in the teaching of iconic manipulation in photographic, video and film production. Representations and facsimiles are presented as teaching tools and instruments employed to instruct students in the techniques and application of mixed media art and collage. The Digital Millennium Copyright Act allows art-teaching entities the fair use of such materials in classroom and teaching-research applications.

 

 

France

WARNING: Explicit Imagery and Colloquial Language

Human Immunodeficiency Virus (HIV)

Acquired Immune Deficiency Syndrome (AIDS)

 

Etienne Pierron

La loi du silence. Je vous montre ma vie. Je vous montre ma mort.

The law of silence. I show you my life. I show you my death.

 


 

Pascal

à risque: lumière et movement

Pascal is a sixteen year old patient suffering from HIV and schizophrenia at the Maison Blanche Hospital in Paris where he has assembled for Show Me Your Life — à risque: lumière et movement. A collage of sound, motion, dance, and metaphor that explores the perceptions he has of the world around him. — t

 

AIDS Crawling Up My Spine

Déjeuner

Je ne peux pas dire sur qui le soir, nous devrions aller toucher les étoiles. Les étoiles sont sournois. Ils infectent mes os avec une folie où les secousses du corps et n’est pas encore éveillé. Mes yeux exorbités avec des chaises électriques et le sida ramper jusqu’à ma colonne vertébrale. Azalea pierres coincé dans ma gorge et les fourmis se promènent de mes yeux. Grâce à deux brins torsadés de barbelés tranchants. Puis, dans un choix solennelle nous allons nu comme un chien. Déplacement sur la ville comme une schizophrénie hébéphréniques a léché le cul sur pour le déjeuner.

Lunch

I can not say that on the night we should go and touch the stars. The stars are sneaky. They infect my bones with a madness that shocks the body and is not yet awake. My eyes bulged with electric chairs and AIDS crawling up my spine. Azalea stones stuck in my throat and ants are walking from my eyes. With two twisted strands of razor wire. Then, in a solemn choice we naked as a dog. Moving about the city as a hebephrenic schizophrenia licked ass on for lunch.

 

Merci beaucoup pour cette

Merci beaucoup pour cette photo.

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