Foot

Foot © Benoît Labourdette.
Poem in automatic writing about « Foot »
A couple of “Living ghosts” emanate from the walls, floors, windows, of an old apartment. The giants invite us to humility. In a park, games of seduction of things at pivotal moments in their lives. The surface of our gestures is our writing. Step by step, the ground resounds of every shock of the bare foot that treads it. “It takes the sea an hour to withdraw from your soul.” A withdrawal, an explosive-fix, a path to the origin, barely perceptible and yet inexorable. To the question “What is poetry?”, the poet Yves Bonnefoy gives an answer that concerns the essential, in terms of philosophy. They all have strong desires, but they feel alone and abandoned. When objects from a carving workshop wake up... Looks and desires in the subway.

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Photographs, paintings, drawings, assemblies and texts by Benoît Labourdette (unless otherwise stated).

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