Arnaud Contreras

Tombouctou Bluetooth, Tombouctou, Mali.

More +++

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe, a tribute to Jack Kerouac :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe, hommage à Jack Kerouac :

Postcard received from Long Island, NY, USA

More on www.myspace.com/tribute2kerouac

During the installation Memory Babe, the French Performer Laurent-Laurent made a show called “Again On The Road Again”. More +++ (Fr)

Lors de l’installation Memory Babe, en hommage à Jack Kerouac, Laurent Laurent a réalisé une performance au doux titre d’Again On The Road Again.
Son compte-rendu à lire là ++

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe :

Maps and Wings
by Gary Glazner
Bowery Poetry Club

The road looks the same
no matter where you are going.

Route 66 was my father’s road
and his father’s road.

Model A with the dust bowl
in the rear view mirror
and California in the headlights.

From being men to being Okies.
The vulgarities of newcomers.
A drowsy distant hope.

Route 66 was their plowshare.
They dug into the rank soil.
Held the miles in rusted fingers.

Maps folded like wings.
A banquet of motion.
Beckoning us now
with its broken fragments.

Let us piece the road together.
This is the way they went
and we shall follow them as we are able.

© Gary Glazner

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe :

The World Is All Mine
by Lynn Rodriguez

I once climbed Mount Everest
and made it to the top.
I swam in the ocean with dolphins.
I also owned a yacht.
I cruised the seven seas.
and did whatever I pleased.

I was friends with kings and queens,
and my lover was a famous movie star.
A world renowned dancer
once took me to Zanzibar.

I saw wild animals in Africa
in a hot air balloon.
I even rode with a posse,
and watched a gun fight
outside a saloon.

I stayed on a deserted island.
I have been to both Poles.
I have seen penquins
and polar bears up close.
It was a personal goal.

I jammed on stage with a rock band,
they were considered the very best.
I flew in a jet plane with an ace,
for a sound barrier test.

I crossed the Sahara on a camel
with a caravan of many.
I spoke in front of millions,
and won the Nobel Prize.
I had my table in Paris at La Tour d’Argent
I said, “Champagne for everyone!”
The patrons looked so surprised.

I was beautiful and young
and I just wanted to have fun.
I had done so many things.
Money was no object; neither was Time.
It’s still that way, to this day.
The World is all Mine!

There is only one little problem,
one little glitch; or so it seems.
I can’t control not waking up;
not staying in my dreams.

© Lynn Rodriguez - 2006

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe, a tribute to Jack Kerouac :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe, hommage à Jack Kerouac :

Postcard sent by George Wallace, from Washington, USA

More on www.myspace.com/tribute2kerouac

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe :

The Gathering of Moss
by John G.Hall
UK

They told me to be safe that I should stay still like a stone
so I slept on through the first dawn of every days creation,
slept through the war,slept through the peace,slept through
the murder and the mayhem,slept through the deceptions,
slept through the truths,slept through the graveyard shifts,
slept through the easy births,slept through the learning
of my ignorance,slept through the softly stolen lives,slept
through the treasure finds,slept through the kisses, slept
through the daggers,slept through the approaching comet,
slept through the torturing, slept through the heart beats,
slept through the bird song,slept through the gun shots,
slept through the souls dark place,slept through the smoke
and mirrors of living loveless,slept through the government
sponsored heroin pushers, slept through the secret states
secret arms trade flooding council estates with deadly weapons,
slept through the blind eye turned to the cull of our young poor,
rather than education and employment,slept through the street war,
slept through the grave,slept through the end of time,slept through
the lightning of your nervous touch,slept through your thunder storms,
slept through my own lonely death,slept through my own goodbyes,
O to sleep so sound in the barbed wire of the mad made mind
they told me to be safe that I should stay still like a stone.

So here I sit the gathering of moss my guilt.

© John G.Hall - 2007

Postcard received from Recife, Brasil, for the installation Memory Babe, a Tribute to Jack Kerouac by Arnaud Contreras and Alain Dister.
More on www.myspace.com/tribute2kerouac

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe :

Contribution sent for the installation Memory Babe :

Contribution envoyée pour l’installation Memory Babe :

Hommage à Kerouac
par Tadzio, Malena Beer, Marie de la Presle

Il y a chez les personnages mythiques de Kerouac, clochedingues allumés et assoiffés, frénétiques et glandeurs, têtes brûlées et solaires, mi anges mi démons, une part de folie débridée, d’insouciance triomphale, un désir désespéré de jouir de tout, une quête d’absolu, de volupté, de sensations, une volonté de donner un sens à la vie, qui les poussent et les entraînent dans d’inexorables courses échevelées vers d’impossibles amours, d’inaccessibles ailleurs, entre allégresse et détresse.
Il y a chez tous leurs héritiers qui, loin de leur propre désert et des absurdités sociales, vers d’autres destinations et horizons, partent ou repartent sur la route, ce même élan dévastateur, cette même pétillante liberté.
La route, c’est la vie, l’aventure, le retour à la nature, les rencontres imprévues, l’amitié souveraine.
Derrière les messages de Kerouac, parti tôt, dans les excès de ses irrémédiables contradictions, souffle un vent de sagesse et se répercute un écho de sublime légèreté :

« Tenez, tous autant que vous êtes, nous devons reconnaître que tout est beau et qu’il n’y a aucune nécessité en ce monde de se faire du souci.»

Photographie : Tadzio, Performance : Malena Beer, Texte : Marie de la Presle

© Tadzio, Malena Beer, Marie de la Presle - 2007