L'Être et le Corps
The body has its language, also has it hurts. If the words of the body are not those of the Verb, the suffering, the pain, the handicap remains silent screams. Sketch with the image an intimate poetry of the being, of the body, with snippets of the muse of dance, Terpsichore, mingle these mute screams with beauty, difference, sweetness. Dreaming that the souls of these disunited subsides, that dramas of each and everyone unites and forgets themselves, finding in the other an inside refuge, a shelter.