Odomez is leaving

That's it, it's happening now. They're tearing it down. It seems so strange, even now that all the trucks have come and the openings have been shut for official "safety" matters, because when we first landed on that outer place a year ago, it seemed so strong and invincible. Like an old giant, lying there quietly for almost fifty years.

Fifty years that the textile factory was shut down, twenty years that they have been using a tiny part of it for selling goods from that charity community. I was born twenty-five years ago.

Just like when i first read the official report of the decision of the destruction (it was by that time that the Robert Horton 3"cd-r was made), i now feel that there is still a lot to do with that place and my mind is filled with new ideas.

They still let us come over to take pictures. But honestly, it's a bit of an excuse. We will do more... this week, Aurélie will continue her serie of interventions. She lies down, like a lost dog, on several of the rooms' floor. We document it with square format pictures. I like that gesture. I feel it is a good way of expressing what is it to be there : the loss, the comfort, the abandonment, the feeling of being at home and far away at the same time... Another project for this week is to re-record a one-hour session of Przewalski's Horses inside one of the rooms.

It's bitter to come back, because we cannot freely roam as we used to, and most of the magic is gone. It's like visiting a dying relative. Very bitter. But we will create out of this, even when they are gone, leaving behind them only a new portion of land, completely flattened, everything buried, we'll come back, and create more.

Most of my recent pictures on flickr are from that place. I also wrote (in french) a bit about it on my website canardsauvage.

Anyway... i thought that starting here with the story of a doomed place would give a good idea of what may be next...