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we are infinite
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PARISB O U G E
poL’art
Salut!On ne vie qu’a Paris
Qui? Quoi? Quand? Où? Pourquoi?Timbre
Ars poL’articaApollinaireWallflower
Wooden HeartPétanque
Piaf
Rue des ÉcolesQuartier Saint-Victor & Le MaraisMontmartreJardin de Lux. Métro & Shakespeare Co.Vers Notre DameJardin de Lux.Jardin de Lux.Jardin de Lux.Vers le lac
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RTA
LOM PHOTOGRAPHIE
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POL’ART 2
salut!Érzékekre hatni. Újból.
De most épp ellenkezőleg, mint korábban. Kevesebb betű, kevesebb szó. Ami pedig mégis helyet
kapott, végtelenül szorosan összefonódik – kis terjedelemben, sokat mondva –
a mellette levő képpel.Ezennel a fotó beszél, illetve az azon látható Párizs-
fragmentum, nem pedig novella, nem is jegyzet, sem pedig kritika.
Egy fotónapló a mozdulatlanul is nyüzsgő Párizsról.
On neVIE3 PARIS BOUGE
VIE QU’A P A R I S4POL’ART
Kilencvenöt cent egy frissen sült baguette. 1980-ban pedig egy frank hatvanhét centimért vághatták a hónuk alá a franciák. Száznégy, meg hét, plusz százkét lépcsőfok vezet fel a Place Saint Pierre-től a Sacre Coeur lábáig. Tizenöt euróért jut be az ember a Beauvais-ról a Porte Maillot-ra. Tíz plusz két másik avenue találkozik a Place de l’Étoile-nál. 1973. negyedik havának nyolcadik napján hunyt el Pablo Picasso, a dél-franciaországi Mougins-ben. Tizennégy elnöke volt a III. francia Köztársaságnak és ‘69-ben mondott le elnöki tisztségéről Charles de Gaulle. Két és fél millió antant katona szolgált a százhatodik hadosztályban az első világháború alatt. Michel Platinit három mérkőzés válasz-totta el hetvenötödik válagatottságától. Le qua-torze juillet. Tizenegy házasságon kívüli gyermeke született IV. Henriknek. Párizs, megközelítőleg az északi szélesség negyvennyolcadik fokánál fekszik. etc.
Qui?Quoi?Quand?Où?Pourquoi?
PARIS BOUGE5
PARIS BOUGE7
timbre
open the ligths open the pack
that i’ve left behindread my lyrics
own my memories that you have foundwe’ll meet in dreams
whenever we miss the sound
the sound that nestles from far
POL’ART 8
meet me midway
ars
poL’
artic
a
9
POL’ART 10
Nem vagyok fotós – és nem is fogom keresni se a jelzőket,
sem pedig a pontos megha-tározást, hogy mégis mi tesz
valakit fotóssá.Egyszerűen a nyakamba akasz-
tottam egy gépet, és meg-próbáltam úgy végigsétálni
Párizs korábban már látott és eddig még fel nem fedezett
részein, mint még soha. Lassan és nyugodtan.
Egy érdekesnek tűnő kirakat, egy nulla-huszonnégyes
mosoda, egy lépcsősor, egy templomtorony, egy kopott
tábla egy még kopottabb kerítésen, egy igaz történeten
alapuló regény (Láthatatlan híd) főhősének háza – ezekre
“hallgattam”, nem pedig az útikönyvre.
Közben pedig kattintottam: házszám, pétanque pálya, cégér, utcai sakktábla, postaláda, azaz bármi, ami nem az első párizsi nyaralás után előhívott képek
fotóalbumba rendezett sorában szerepelne.
Longtemps au
pied du
perron de La
maison où
entra la
dame Que
j’avais suivie
pendant deux
Bonnes heures
à Amsterdam
Mes doigts
jetèrent des
baisersPARIS BOUGE11
Mais le canal était désert Le quai aussi et nul ne vit
Comment mes baisers retrouvèrent Celle à qui j’ai donné ma vie
Un jour pendant plus de deux heures
Apollinaire
POL’ART
Rosemonde
12
Mais le canal était désert Le quai aussi et nul ne vit
Comment mes baisers retrouvèrent Celle à qui j’ai donné ma vie
Un jour pendant plus de deux heures
Je la surnommai Rosemonde
Voulant pouvoir me rappeler
Sa bouche fleurie en Hollande
Puis lentement je m’en allai Pour quêter
la Rose du Monde
and in this
infinite
momenti swear
we are
PARIS BOUGE13
You see things.You understand.
You’re a Wallflower.
POL’ART 14
Wallflower.Wallflower.
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I’ve been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts and it’s not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach, but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north, stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will... so I’ve built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts. don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever we only have what we remember
I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts... everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever we only have what we remember
My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we’ll still be electric shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better
through the change so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief...
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever
15 PARIS BOUGE
We’re all born to broken people on their most honest day of living and since that first breath... We’ll need grace that we’ve never given
I’ve been haunted by standard red devils and white ghosts and it’s not only when these eyes are closed
these lies are ropes that I tie down in my stomach, but they hold this ship together tossed like leaves in this weather
and my dreams are sails that I point towards my true north, stretched thin over my rib bones, and pray that it gets better
but it won’t won’t, at least I don’t believe it will... so I’ve built a wooden heart inside this iron ship,
to sail these blood red seas and find your coasts. don’t let these waves wash away your hopes
this war-ship is sinking, and I still believe in anchors pulling fist fulls of rotten wood from my heart, I still believe in saviors
but I know that we are all made out of shipwrecks, every single board washed and bound like crooked teeth on these rocky shores
so come on and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach
come on and sew us together, tattered rags stained forever we only have what we remember
I am the barely living son of a woman and man who barely made it but we’re making it taped together on borrowed crutches and new starts
we all have the same holes in our hearts... everything falls apart at the exact same time
that it all comes together perfectly for the next step but my fear is this prison... that I keep locked below the main deck
I keep a key under my pillow, it’s quiet and it’s hidden and my hopes are weapons that I’m still learning how to use right
but they’re heavy and I’m awkward...always running out of fight so I’ve carved a wooden heart, put it in this sinking ship
hoping it would help me float for just a few more weeks because I am made out of shipwrecks, every twisted beam
lost and found like you and me scattered out on the sea so come on let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach come on and sew us together, just some tattered rags stained forever we only have what we remember
My throat it still tastes like house fire and salt water I wear this tide like loose skin, rock me to sea
if we hold on tight we’ll hold each other together and not just be some fools rushing to die in our sleep
all these machines will rust I promise, but we’ll still be electric shocking each other back to life
Your hand in mine, my fingers in your veins connected our bones grown together inside
our hands entwined, your fingers in my veins braided our spines grown stronger in time
because are church is made out of shipwrecks from every hull these rocks have claimed but we pick ourselves up, and try and grow better
through the change so come on yall and let’s wash each other with tears of joy and tears of grief...
and fold our lives like crashing waves and run up on this beach come on and sew us together, were just tattered rags stained forever we only have what we remember
wooden
16
heart
pétanque
PARIS BOUGE
La pétanque est un jeu de boules
dérivé du jeu provençal.
pétanque
17
POL’ART 18
PARIS BOUGE19
y songs are my life. I don’t want to be nothing but memory.
Édith Paif
POL’ART
M
20
