Fanzine resulting from a collective corporate company winter adventure
In collaboration with Ke-Tang Lee and Iris Langlois (sober cracks)
Catégorie : child or teen age hood
Summer Haze
We were told we could go film in an outdoor art center. We wrote poetry. We read it. We filmed it. The next page you will see another clip from our shoot.
Our map of the Vents des Forets to navigate the hikes in the art center and find the artworks we were looking for. A polaroid of a filming site puddle. The poem I wrote and read in the forest for the sake of this film.
intermediate version of film for now,
enjoy
her body is « time! »
My body spent thirteen years listening to and reproducing what the voice echoing in the middle of this square dictated, not mine, but that of the men who trained me. Deconstruct, learn, repeat, integrate, exhaust myself in order to better defeat what stands opposite in the “magic square”. It is therefore in this square, ring, which I haveworn down with time, that I gathered routine, ritual, care, sweat, and familiarity to rebuild and represent the tool that was my body, in service of the noble art and its modern kings.
Mon corps a passé treize ans à écouter et reproduire ce que dicte la voix qui résonne au milieu de ce carré, non pas la mienne mais celle de ces hommes qui m’ont entraînée. Déconstruire, apprendre, répéter, intégrer, épuiser pour mieux battre ce qui est en face dans le carré magique. C’est donc dans ce carré, que j’ai cerclé à l’usure, que j’ai rassemblé routine, rituel, soin, sueur et familiarités pour reconstituer l’outil qu’était mon corps au service du noble art et souverains modernes.
Mme foudy n’est pas disponible pour le moment
grief leads to grandma tea parties in honor of_
read au négatif emporté_
Bye bye annex mediation
The meeting point was outside our annex building, and I called them through a window upstairs for them to come up and meet me. After greeting everyone, I kicked things off with an icebreaker—a group translation of the Patti Smith song « Gloria. » I had printed the lyrics and laid them out on the chimney, asking each person to translate one word. To guide them upstairs and show them my friends’ artworks, we played a game of “I Spy.” As we moved through the exhibit, transitioning from one student’s work to another, I kept the energy up with either a game suggestion or a group discussion. When we left the annex to see the final part of our exhibit projected on the building wall across from us, I handed out postcards featuring memories of the building that had meant so much to us over the years. I asked everyone to write a postcard as a way of saying goodbye.
Song credits to Patti Smith
french people want a billboard magazine too
Scans of illustrated fanzines and translated songs from english to french (yes, literally)
Currently at #3
#3 special edition: Rois de Léon
Lost in trans-it-lating
Photography book of a camera lost between countries and poems lost in translation
Selection of writing pieces from Lost in trans-it-lating.
Writing pieces on pieces of paper.
Pieces of paper you can move around the book,
as you read, as you please.
gallery of wounds
Stickers and a creed. You successfully repeat after me the whole creed. You earn a sticker. Wear it like a medal. You’re apart of the team.
is my body really just a number?
Situated research about my body’s worth from the sports system point of view
lost in translation
idiom. : to fail to have the same meaning or effectiveness when it is translated into another language.
Do you know where you anchor yourself
Is it point A or point B in a country sense
Is it point A, B, C, D, or E city wise
Or is it the extensive street-wise?
Le sais-tu?
Malgré que tu ait quitté ces lieux il y maintenant des années pour certains, que les détails ont été lissés pour d’autres et même radiés pour la plupart.
Ce lissage si trompeur qui rend ces passages si appealing et dorés pour les plus anciens et moins désagréables pour les plus récents.
Ce lissage entreteneur de mythes. D’idéal. De sacralisation. De safe haven. Of childhood. Before teenage hood.
Teenage hood where every opportunity to delve back was seized eagerly almost desperately.
Accompanied by the flatness of what you now lived inside of, the void of teenage hood.
It wasn’t the first time you changed schools so despite being a shy child, it wasn’t much of a problem. For 2 days it was complicated but like everyone who is new, that was no news. Pour tous les nouveaux, ce n’est pas des nouvelles.
Autour d’un arbre tu as tourné en rond jusqu’à ce qu’on t’arrête. Et là ce n’est qu’en y repensant des années plus tard que tu te prends la claque imaginaire du siècle, le coup de pied retourné qui t’a cassé le nez plus tard: “ça te dirait d’être notre amie, parce qu’on en a parlé à notre mère et elle nous a dit que ce serait cool d’avoir une amie américaine!”
“Oh you’re French wow that’s so cool, could you say something in French?” As your English teacher from highschool once said, Americans find the French, and especially the French accent very “sexy”. Proof is all of the English language’s sexy expressions come from French. No translations were fit enough to express the Latin ways.
You never come from where you are at the moment. You’re always exotic. And a good English homework helper.
Speaking of latin ways. You have another funny story. One where, as you were introduced to friends of your new friends one wanted to greet you in the “circle” in which they were both in their minds and physically, she got up from her seated position, and she “turned her cheek” or more like “elle a tendu la joue”. That definitely doesn’t sound good in English, now you see why Americans aren’t ones for expressions in that area. Back to the story. Et là, le premier reflex, le plus blessant pour un latin habitué à “claquer la bise” à toute nouvelle personne, tu as reculé. “Mais qu’est ce que tu fais, je te fais la bise, fais-moi la bise!” Translation for an American kid: “Hey bestie! Why won’t you give me a Bear Hug!”
All hail culture shock.
So despite being far away from familiarity your habits live on.
“C’est pourquoi? Un bonbon ou un sort! Ah non alors excusez-moi mais nous ne connaissons pas cela ici, voici un texte explicatif. Bonne soirée”
Translate that for an 11-year-old American kid.
- “What have we got here? Candy or a spell! Trick or treat! Oh no then excuse me but we do not know that here, here is an explanatory text what frightening kids! Here pick your candy! Have a nice evening and Happy Halloween!”
“Des chamallows sur de la purée de patate douce il n’y a que vous les américains pour faire ça!
Quoi mais c’est super bon arrêtez…”
Directions
- Preheat oven to 400 degrees F (200 degrees C).
- Drain sweet potatoes and place in a medium baking dish. Distribute butter pieces evenly over the sweet potatoes. Sprinkle with brown sugar. Layer with miniature marshmallows.
- Bake in the preheated oven for 25 minutes, or until the sweet potatoes are tender and the marshmallows have melted.
- Mode d’emploi
- Préchauffer le four à 400 degrés F (200 degrés C).
- Égoutter les patates douces et les placer dans un plat de cuisson moyen. Répartir uniformément les morceaux de beurre sur les patates douces. Saupoudrer de sucre brun. Superposer les guimauves miniatures.
- Faire cuire dans le four préchauffé pendant 25 minutes, ou jusqu’à ce que les patates douces soient tendres et que les guimauves aient fondu.
Note: Effectivement pas sûr que vous trouviez cette recette dans les “cookbooks” français, surtout dans la section repas de fête à côté des vols aux vents.
This is called filling the void. Yes with food and recipes. Tender memories mixed in the batter. But they are no longer placed in the same context. In the same place, by the same person you were.
And now.
You now fear the day you will grasp once again what has been removed from your life for so many years. Having a sense of distance between the places you are attached to gives a sense of comfort
For now, the distance and emotions that come with that void slowly carved are a comfort. A longing. A fuel.
Maintenant, le rapport de distance régit ta vie.
Le plus éloigné tu te trouves du point d’ancrage familial, le mieux tu te portes, the more appealing it seems. As a uprooted child comfort is found in the vastness you get to travel/live/exist in.
The farther you are from the family anchor, the better it feels, le plus attrayant cela te paraît.
Mettre de la distance entre l’endroit où tu as attendu des années quelque chose, une bouée de sauvetage, après que tu sois parti de ton ancrage initial est une façon de réitérer cet acte. De l’infliger par procuration à ceux qui te l’ont imposé. Pas que tu le regrettes ou que tu n’en as rien retiré. But since closure hasn’t been given to you, the coping mechanism is what precedes.
Remedy homesickness by being homesick.
Mais puisque la recherche de distance est tout le temps recherché pour se sentir ne serait-ce qu’un peu plus proche de ces endroits manqués, cela montre le manque d’attachement, le déchirement en vous.
Jamais il y aura une maison.
You will never know what really being home is.
Home is not a place, home is in your mind where you decide it is.
It’s the small memories you’ve created with the few people you keep in the different places that are home. It’s not one specific place. Ce n’est pas un endroit. It’s not.
But you just can’t help the feeling of searching. Of denial that the first place was the best.
Et tu l’entretiens.
L’entretien en sélectionnant ce qui t’arrange de chaque endroit et t’en fait un personnage.
Car où que tu ailles tu seras perçu comme venant d’ailleurs. Donc autant savoir toi d’où tu viens ou en faire un assemblage.
“Tu sais c’est drôle tu entretiens un cliché pour certaines choses avec ton gratin de chamallows, avec tes cuillères “patriotiques” drapeau américain, et en parlant tout le temps des souvenirs, des trucs que tu as connus. Mais essentiellement, ce sont des choses liées à l’enfance. C’est des doux souvenirs liés à l’enfance. Et donc t’entretient ce personnage, ce mythe. Et tu le revendiques. Et après quand tu parles de certains sujets tu vas dire: “nous les Américains” en parlant de traditions ou de choses que tu aimes et puis après quand ça traite de sujets comme la politique tu vas t’exclure du lot en employant “ils” et te réinsérer quand on parle de solution ou de vote. C’est assez amusant.”Perks of having 2 passports you guess.
2 passports that seem so convenient. Some people think it’s the best thing one could have. Some no. Both are correct. But is there one place where it’s better? Ultimately it’s up to you and your little feelings. Not what some people say about it being “un pays qui n’est vraiment plus ce qu’il était, moi si j’étais toi je m’en éloignerais le plus possible parce que j’étais comme toi je l’ai aimé ce pays”
So
Out of Spite
And need of identity
You renew it.
X I am a U.S citizen living outside the country, and my intent to return is uncertain.
And you vote
Juste pour se sentir ne serait-ce qu’un instant retourner, appartenir.
Now we can’t resume this whole in just three pages but we can try and translate a part of it.
Translate this syndrome.
Syndrome of pieced people.
Pieced by different countries
Different cultures
That lay lost between them.
Lost in the change every time.
Lost in translation.