May be…

May be…

3 Years now… Banshee as violent and rebel narrative it could be, remains so intimately mirroring what is burning inside me.

 

 

 

Every Dog has it’s Day

“Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Now what does this mean
It means we get the best scenes
When politics talk, the ends of power meet
Nice to be wanted, safe and protected
The ends of power when politics talk
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Home sweet home, home, home
Now
Let’s talk politics
Every dog has it’s day
For me (for me)
I don’t believe (I don’t believe in anything)
Better days ahead (one more war)
Will never be (I do believe no more)
I don’t believe in (no long goodbye)
Anything (nuclear day)
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Better days will never be
Spare no man, match bomb for bomb
War, all is fair in war
When the ground is soft with hot blood
Spare no man
Better days will never be (match bomb for bomb)
A scorched Earth (flatten the Earth, this home sweet home)
No charity (burn evreything, from lust to dust)
No weak pity (no charity, no weak pity)
From lust to dust (all is fair in war)
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home
Home sweet home”

Elsewhere

1983…Saint-Etienne France…Great job, friends like family…Miss S. I was all about Theater and Rock and Roll. In smoke of a small cafe, warm friends and Noir Desir and Bertrand Cantat. This song.. “Toujours etre Ailleurs” , always with me for more than 30 years now. ..Bertrand…I could’nt join the pack of barking dogs .

I found this VHS secam video and I tried to make something out of it… Emotion is there…

1978


“ He was young. he was so damn young. he was so god damned. Drunk with the Blood of Baby dolls. Mad laughter. power. running neck and neck with his vision was his demon. Sooner Stick his dick up the baby dolls ass. Shove pins in the heads of innocents. Bad seed with a golden spleen. Ha Ha. he has the last laugh. Blonde Hairs raveling in your vital breath. White hydrogen. Rimbaud. Savior of the forgotten scientists: the alchemists. alchemy. of The. The Word. The power of The Word. Love Rays. bullets on the alter. obscene ceremonies. leave no proof clues. gold. behind. Rimbaud blessé Rimbaud wounded Rimbaud: angel with sleeves of blue hair. [NO] light without shadow. Rimbaud was a rolling stone are all prophets persecuted? He was so damn young. 

Devotions to Arthur Rimbaud.
Copyright © Patti Smith

1978 is the time we started to walk the way …It was about something else… such a rebellion to our Human condition a revolt against Destiny.

We left many on the path, I still cherish this special dream that evil will not will prevail.

I composed this Music Video putting for 2 minutes “Till Victory” of dear Patti Smith as wording to one of the most moving piece of Art of Choreographer Trisha Brown.

It is my devotion to “solitude”

1978

 

Works in Siam

 

I recently published on Linkedin this nice picture of works I have made on Day Spa in Bangkok.

It received this comment from Khun Grist Skaoratanayothin:

“Even this work was smaller when compare to other in your portfolio hereof, you still recognized that I appreciated. Olivier, may I say, your works are not only one of or either part of … art, engineering, architect, imaginer, designer, technology but all of it. You are the keen-skilled man, knowing, doing and understanding the art to achieve and balance across all objective, obstruction & constrain. You say “fusion”, I feel it has propensity to the out-come work rather than your work itself. When people see your finished work here in day spa Bangkok, they might not know all process story, or they might think that they can do better even though they were not in that point of difficult constrained position in which you had done it among that situation. I like your starting words of Imagineering , Architainment & cabalistic. It reflect to real man like you are. “

Nice…

How we rehearse our dreams…

Howard Devoto remains essential to me. His poetry like honey in acid music of Magazine keep aside my way almost everyday.
Some who know me have always been surprized by this, this priviledge of Artists to find a way to your heart and mind,

 

Howard Devoto remains essential to me. His poetry like honey in acid music of Magazine keep aside my way almost everyday.
Some who know me have always been surprized by this, this priviledge of Artists to find a way to your heart and mind,

“Cut out Shapes in Second Hand Daylight”

.

Job done!

It has been a couple of months I started revamping my Blog/Website. Adding last week video telling the story of “Panhuys” it completes a journey back in the past, back in my past.

I will not touch it anymore and concentrate now on edition of my personal newsletter where I will share what people share on Facebook. I don’t like Facebook.

Navigation is quite simple, menu bar is very minimal.

On top of usual menus like “about” or “contacts” archives are displayed in 3 main boxes:

“My way” offers a visit of Time lapse of pictures of me since a newborn baby, a video documentary about my ancient heritage, “Panhuys” and a gallery that took years to patiently collect about fine paintings of my Great Grand Father, “Ernest Blanc-Garin”

“Archives” is about main experiences in my career since I stepped on stage wooden floors in 1980.

“Portfolio” displays my most recent experiences, this one will receive updates on a regular base.

This completes an effort to compile and offer what could be seen as attempt to offer some hints to understand complexity of my personality. There is no arrogance in this, any experience in life is made out of bitter and sweet. I hope you will enjoy it.

Charlotte

I knew Charlotte a child, blessed daughter of father and mother disurptive artists.Sheis a great actress,fragile as crystal glass on edge of the counter. Her Expression is the one of my Generation making me feel this kind of intimacy with my own contradictions.

 

Truly Asia

I remember as a kid, having been amazed by Comic books of Buck Danny, as WWII and post war american pilot. Malaysian Tigers was one of my favourite, feeling Jungle not as hostile environment but at very contrary bringing peace in heart. Living now in sands of Arabian Desert, this feeling is now part of memories and “adventures” I experienced there crossing from Kuala Terenganu on shores of South China Sea to Alor Setar t the edge of the Malacca Strait through mountains and tropical showers. there I left friends and intimacy my wild nature. With help of God I will head up there again soon.

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