Here are the works I have made this semester.

These works are autonomous but they also exist in relation to each other,
as they are a part of a search.

As of now,
I believe the individual and the maker are the same and my works are personal in their content but also in their form.

The latter is especially so for my text-based works
where I only want to write the words that I believe are necessary
and true.

I find great joy in writing those texts
but also in sharing them.
Speaking them, singing them, sending them to my friends, to publications or posting them on social media.

There are only conscious decisions concerning the rythm and the sounds of the texts.
I believe this makes them suitable to be read out loud,
whether it is by me or by someone else.

This website is not a work on itself.
But an attempt at archiving my work in the most neutral way possible.
Even though I am aware of it’s accidental aesthetic.
And that neutral is bamboozle.

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

you’re my high tech doll

capturing a player's voice

capturing my player’s heart

i wanna be yours

and i’ll be your controler

to fall, and fall, and fall for a high tech girl

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

i know you’re only emulating

but you’ve got me sha-shaking

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Oh, oh, oh, little high tech doll

Sample Margot

i'm lucky i'm in new-york
and i have you on my mind
do i get everything i wish for
or can i see after time
is it sign of its potential
or a lucky coincidence
that he woke up with the dream
and she brought me to life
and the only person i can smell
is the person i don’t have


- I'm Lucky I'm In New-York

DON’T GET CAUGHT RUNNING AROUND NAKED AT NIGHT

DON’T LET THEM SEE YOU HAVE SIX FINGERS ON EACH HAND

AND YOUR MIND IS A RAGING INFERNO OF CONTRADICTIONS

THEY WOULD HAVE LOCKED YOU UP, MADELEINE, IF THEY HAD ANY CLUE HOW DESPERATELY CRAZY YOU ARE...

...AND THEY WILL!

DON’T GIVE THEM A HANDLE!

Lose your mother
Burn down your house

I cried in paradise
Midnight shoeless motorbike rides

I wish I had my first grey hair when you got your first wrinkle. I still haven’t seen Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, and I had to google Cobblestone. But I have read Just Kids and I saved all your songs. I miss being seventeen and I lied a couple times. When He said Three Point One Four and I dreamed with open eyes. The swiss boy who took mushrooms and when I cried in Paradise.
I was in a brewpub in October. And if I don't like beer, I like the bartender. His first name is the same as his last and the same as my dad’s. Later that night, I sat in front of a boy I like. He brushed my face with the back of his hand and said « You have beautiful skin but you’re so arrogant ». When he left he pressed himself against my breast and we never talked again.

Sample Madeleine

Joans
or the hap of being one Joan rather than another

If Joan of Arc was born in the 1940s, would she be a singer too ?
The queer heroin,
The maiden of Orléans,
Thus always to tyrants.
'N' the agitated crowd, as they’d hear her cries blowin' in the wind,
Would they burn her too ?
I’ve heard from those who say "rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God",
That this sad eyed lady ain’t no lady.
But rebellion to tyrants is obedience to myself,
And she ain’t no lady and she ain’t no man.

maybe time will stop passing
i'll see people i've never seen
i feel it in my fingers
i feel it in my toes
Good News or Bad News: Which Do You Want First?
i have grey hair
and i’m a war machine
i think i felt this way
even before i was still


- I'm A War Machine

and the heat of the sun coming through the window

Je me souviens de la canette de Coca-Cola posée dans la bibliothèque. Elle était rose; blanchie par les vagues; entourée d’un millier de livres. À gauche, faisant dos à la fenêtre, un gros piano à queue noir brillant sur lequel était posé la sculpture d’un torse de femme.

Je me souviens de la canette de Coca-Cola posée dans la bibliothèque and the heat of the sun coming through the window.

J’aime bien dormir la fenêtre ouverte sous une montagne de couvertures; comme une enclume sur mon dos.

j’aime bien dormir la fenêtre ouverte and the heat of the sun coming through the window.

Allongée sur le ventre avec juste le bout des orteils de mon pied gauche qui dépasse de sous la couette; je respire l’odeur de dehors et j’entends les arbres.

je respire l’odeur de dehors et j’entends les arbres and the heat of the sun coming through the window

Je me rappelle ma chambre d’enfant rue Broussais. Il y avait une fenêtre qui donnait sur l’hôpital Saint-Anne et sur les arbres et sur la lune.

je me rappelle ma chambre d’enfant rue Broussais and the heat of the sun coming through the window

il y avait une fenêtre qui donnait sur l’hôpital Saint-Anne et sur les arbres et sur la lune and the heat of the sun coming through the window

Il y avait aussi une moquette rose clair sur laquelle j’aimais bien m’allonger de temps en temps pour être seule.

il y avait aussi une moquette rose clair sur laquelle j’aimais bien m’allonger de temps en temps pour être seule and the heat of the sun coming through the window