Some nights ago I dreamt of Jean-Luc. We are sitting next to each other in a studio space. I paint circles. Jean-Luc is arranging fruits on a table. At some point I say to Jean-Luc: “You see, we are sitting here, talking, working, while others say that you are dead”. On his lips appears his usual smile. He says: “Tu vois”. I hear his voice as he says “tu vois”. Actually, I see his voice as he talks. It’s a texture made of coloured dots, coppery, orange, red, yellow, blue, white, grey. They form a grid which is moving. It is falling slowly, settling onto my skin and around me. I’m wondering, is it possible to sustain the memory of a voice? Is it possible to capture what it transfers, its vibrance, even though the person is no more?

From where I’m looking,
I’m headless.
I see your face / I hear your voice,
your appearance,
and not my own.
VInyl, one sided
Headless, performance, Rue Française, Paris, 2016, Lundis de la performance, with Bonnie Tchien Hwen-Ying and  Angie Seah
Headless, performance, La Panacée, Montpellier, 2016