Spirale.. de Ridha Dhib

............................................. ---------========================================= --------------------------------------------------------------------------- ____________________________________________________________________________________ \ ========================================================================================= __________________________________ ----------------------------- « mouvement » de la ligne retrace votre propre « marche » dans l'espace réel.


Spirale de Fibonacci : « l' œil » de Google Street View parcourt et donne à voir, alors que le marqueur de Google Maps révèle la trace et fait office de « marcheur ». C’est une performance marchée au départ du parvis de Notre-Dame de Paris, point zéro pour l'établissement des kilométrages routiers en France. Elle a eu lieu le 15 octobre 2013, commencé à 13h22, et a durée 5 heures, 28 minutes et 18 secondes. La distance parcourue est de 29.68 km. Le protocole consiste à marcher en s'appuyant sur la Suite de Fibonacci. « La suite de Fibonacci est une suite d'entiers dans laquelle chaque terme est la somme des deux termes qui le précèdent. Elle commence généralement par les termes 0 et 1 (parfois 1 et 1) et ses premiers termes sont : 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, etc. » J'ai converti les nombres qui constituent la Suite de Fibonacci en minutes (0 mn, 1mn, 1mn, 2 mn, 3 mn, 5 mn, 8 mn, 13 mn, 21 mn, etc…). Au départ du « point zéro » il s'agissait de marcher en s'appuyant sur les temporalités citées : avancer et au bout de chaque terme tourner systématiquement à gauche. Aussi il fallait marcher en gardant le cap sur ma destination (mon atelier dans le 20e arrondissement). Lien : http://fairerhizome.hautetfort.com/ar...


chamber music

_______ Joyce who fancied himself at times a s a simple middle class man or a bourgeois was in fact a s ecret and unconscious dada ist who had prepared his whole life to write Finne gans W ake the great dadaist prose poem of the millions of languages and words and denotations and con
















A scribe

http://www.beefheart.com/i-was-a-scribe-for-captain-beefheart-herb-bermann-speaks-part-1/

unused work 1


I seen your feet






everyone hears  your stirred pride
.

cow brindled to the sow. rearing hercoat. of fine..

its gif of plenty


and here you little sneak!


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every word you said is
remembered
cold stone


married to your rose
gathered by wheat
wept by feet
tarried undeground my Eurydice.
stammered by the hot gate whenever
your heart tears it
pulls weeds like
enjambment does cutting around the feathered edged cup. Or Whitman's strong verse that so many denied. castigated. Or say your body. Hips edged on the thrust of the bed. and around the bed your million feet. Or say our arms roughed up by love making. Crackled black blue and green in the kisses, or the body's hissyfits. Fits like your thighs do to mine. Is that it? yer wish list of coming around the bend. Like any rebus does. Or married to the moment. The instant filter moment of your kisses, and my hands pressed palm plate to yours lover. Come again. Come again, sometime. Between the river and city, and you have chosen the moment entering as coming exiting as birth near plateau. Or garnered by the wheat of shadow and fiction. Here then nowhere then now ~

Come then , my darling I will teach everything. Little feasts of pedagogical erotic. As the bookof your thighs leans into the fire of my horn. Horn of , Horn of and Horus ~



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Come then lover, you've found your place. Between our bed.
Hot pant steamed as the kiss. Rivered by night.
Your thighs tent plays to me. We are wielded by night's
bawdy and night . Voice. Rummed into your seat. These kisses of
eyes







101 years after the 1918 Manifesto the anitdialectial machinery of Dada Tristan Tzara ...

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 I am he the new dada mamamamamachinnnerrrrrry of stratospheric atmosphere

 

but that year you forgot all about dada  too an tristan tzara an tristantzara an you were reading you were reading you were reading another cinema calendar of the waste land its dissolving frames a mile a minute....

 as your ruckus went somewhere else turning round the right bend of

 

every delire every dangerous delire in two and one in town 

  in tow to her love boat, or her love crutch or her love but,

 

no one knowing 

  no one know it was rain an snow in mid may the prince the slate of may when marching ban ds  of proletariat showed up....

 

  to was continue was fed to its hurrting  loving real self....                      an her body was gone/

 

 

 

 

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