Words sown on images

11 November 2022. Published by Benoît Labourdette.
  16 min
 |  Download in PDF

On my proposal, people have written words opposite images chosen from the thousands that I propose on my website, those that “jumped out at them” and gave birth to words, which illuminate them and dig them, or sculpt them, in return.

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Life, cruel, cracks its despair...

Eric Sionneau


(series « Whiteboards »)

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The fire truck
is eating spaghetti
And he grows hair of all colors

Benoist Magnat


(series « Children’s drawings of the city »)

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Guiding melancholy
Rivoli, Rivoletto, the stream precedes the deluge, tick, tick, tick, tick, which are lost in oblivion like tears in the rain. It is necessary to put gutters to the clouds, to guide the melody, Long live the dance, down with the cadence!

Jean-Philippe Poirée-Ville


(series « Louvre-Rivoli »)

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The goldfish, darts, languid, in complete freedom, into the confines of the abyss where it finally takes its full extent. The jar no longer belongs where the limits of its growth are no longer confined by the glass walls, solitary

Sabina Appadu


(series « Dancing Tube »)

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Atlas carries the world on his back. A world of earth, wheat, water, ether... In this dance of life, what do we wear? The blue, the red, the ochre, the sap... In me, printed. Identity or whirlwind of colors ready to fly away

Sabina Appadu


(series « As the crow flies »)

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Corset...of plaster, veil or worm, corset. Do you cling to me? Are you hugging my rib cage? My compressed air? No matter how pretty you are, corset, you are still a corset. What are you hugging? Isn’t it time to move and let the life in each of your atoms finally breathe its dance?

Sabina Appadu


(series « Soft Fossil »)

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Let’s dance, let’s dance... What a joy to find you! My hands in yours, our branches intertwined. Conversing with joy and friendship

Sabina Appadu


(series « Inner Night »)

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wink of night
window open to a wounded soul
night light of sorrow
I will be silent

Valerie Ganne


(series « Window troubled by night »)

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Two versions of you
One anchor, solid, and mobile at the same time, happy imbalance, two versions, intangible and harmonious, unfathomable, obvious, radiant, eternal.

Ingrid Janssen


(series « Paul the tree » and « Mechanical snail »)

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I love the morning, because I wake up very early. I played the game of chance, wandering through the photos in the “Surface of a Morning” series, and the nascent worlds of day and night opened up.

Sylvie Alphandéry


(series « Surface of a morning »)

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Whose eyes are those black, cold, identical eyes?
They seem to want to pierce us, to scrutinize us, to guess us!
They are always there, recent stigmata of a somewhat singular and insane period!
Do they carry within them the message of an obscure omen? The advent of a future which wants to be...

Estel Palada


(series « Social distancing »)

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I see birds, fallen angels, strange beings appearing or disappearing. The movement transforms the surfaces into feathers, gives them wings. So that they fly away, or fly for a moment? The time of an opening of diaphragm? A little something disturbing and beautiful at the same time, emanates from this moment of a second.

Marie Désert


(series « The Kiss of Defense »)

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I’m moving forward
Or I move back
I let myself be contained
Bounce back
Hold
Drowsy
The arrow
Is my comfort
My setting
Bed where I sleep

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Surface of a morning »)

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This way
It’s over there
Laying on the light
Golden
Frail and foolish
I float and I fly
No need to know
Why
My naked destiny
That’s it

Mathilde Lagues


(series « A loose ant »)

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Halo
Who’s there
Maybe I am
Maybe not

I’m glowing
I’m burning
Or I’m leaving
Quickly

The fuzzy heart
The soft heart
The blackened heart
The withered heart

It’s over
Out of me
I’m out of me
I flee

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Little man »)

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Exit from the cave
Sometimes
Come back to it
Moaning in it
Cuddle up to it
Every time

The world
Is fascinating
So attractive
Always violent

Flying
It’s blue
Turn
Dancing
It’s fire

The world
Is scary
White
Always so big

I go out
Or is it you
Who comes

Mathilde Lagues


(series « As the bird flies »)

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Magical moment beyond the woodland, blue-orange glow.
Is it sunset or sunrise, this light beyond the deserted grasslands?
Nature warms up and dances under the intoxication of my crazy flight.
I will go to huddle in the hollow of the darkness, then I will leave towards the summer light

Elise Ripault Duhart


(series « As the bird flies »)

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Little drops
Sown on the destiny
Urban Thumb

If you doubt
You have to turn
Spiral
To blaze

Follow the path
Of your anger
It traces
Make way
You dance
Dancing
And pass

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Louvre-Rivoli »)

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Flights

They jump
Take off
Laughing
Fly away

Who will win
Be the first
Marveling

The sky is the limit
I am there

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Design of love »)

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Dancing lights

Fleet
The fan

Unfolds
Your entrails

Orne
My wall

Open me
Shine on me
Turn me
Lose me

Lead me
Where I am

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Dancing tube »)

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By the window

I don’t know

If a crumb of wakefulness
Has pricked my sleep

Or is it the temptation
Of a deep sleep
Perfect illusion

Who is lying?

Where is the reason?
Glimmer of hope
Color of the evening
Light to believe
Erase
Space
Return of the dark

I do not see
Not

You are not there anymore

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Window troubled by the night »)

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Appearing

Who are you
Red in this black

Is it a tongue that you pull
A nebulous smile
Random
Become
Irreverent

Your eyes
Squinting
My memory
Your pupils

You don’t care

You invite me
To sing

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Dancing Tube »)

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IML

It snows
And I rise

Hasty
I see you there
Discreet
Stealthy
I stand straight
You know I am

Mathilde Lagues


(series « I.M.L. »)

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Blue rose

Turn
My head

Blue
Blow the wind
Blue and blue
Intertwined
Of blue
Blows on me
In front of
Wraps me
Inside
Take me away
Often

In the hollow of you
I see
All that is not
I’m cold

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Children’s drawings on the city »)

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Why not

Thank you
For your look
So sweet

Tender transparency
Intense swirls
You think
And I dance

You do not ask
Your question
You dare
Your direction

Fauve trance
And I dance

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Soft Fossil »)

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Window on day

Very small
And yet there

It is far the bottom
Isn’t it
Dazzles the round
That I see

The smoke smells
It makes
Takes me back
And yet

There

Wings of what

Wings of you

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Mechanical snail »)

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Window on day

Very small
And yet there

It is far the bottom
Isn’t it
Dazzles the round
That I see

The smoke smells
It makes
Takes me back
And yet

There

Wings of what

Wings of you

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Social distancing »)

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Window over gray

Punch
Inside
I’m in pain
you know

Clench them tight
Your teeth
You have to
Cross

In all this white the gray bends
Ashamed and blurred it is not worthy

Or is it a trace
Of hope that passes

Mathilde Lagues


(series « Whiteboards »)

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The truth likes to hide. Barely touched, it fades away and disappears. Everyone then struck by the illusion is forever impregnated by its presence. However, in nothing is desire enough. The truth likes to hide itself. The search hardly begun continues. Never has reason seemed so contrary to its essence. Irrational is the quest, unfortunate will be its destiny. For lack of reaching the truth, men die of its volatility. When they think they are getting it back, a pout of disgust adorns their face. It is that it is cruel and infamous this truth. Very few can hold their gaze. Humanity is blindfolded. It will be necessary otherwise to slip under the tormented features of Oedipus. It is very happy that the truth likes to hide itself. Otherwise, humanity would have been decimated. Far from the eyes, close to the heart. Far from the eyes, close to happiness.

Guillaume Foyer


(series « The scars of the earth »)

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In the moon you will see...
The movement of the mist
The swirl of the fog
The abyss that takes you away
The trace of the clouds
The silhouette of a woman facing the immense
The mountains of destiny
The earth and the clouds
The vibrations of the depths
Creatures taking shape...
Life and death
The threads are mixed
Magical landscapes
The eye of the night
The shadow and the light
The fight, the fall, the battle
The hope
In the moon you will see...
All that you want

Rosina Nigro


(series « Manufacture of the moon »)

Because of the mechanical nature of its technical function, photography is for me a matter of time rather than a visual matter : in its silver salts, or its pixels today, it is time which is captured, preserved, reinvented at every glance. Time of life, time of vision, time of poetry.


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