Collages et dessins de Marina De Van en relation avec le film “Ne te retournes pas”.

Technique mixte.

copyright Marina De Van
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1075113/

copyright vanessa briggs 2009.

All I can think about is tearing open my torso, getting my lungs out and drying them up to feed some dogs.

at p’tit rosso.

Dreamt I had found a secret unpublished text by Goethe.
The text was saying that 54 or 64 angels lived in the neck.

Burning feet, tiptoe, ice, pealing skin, off the ground.
I slide, bound by skin that sticks,
glue me down, wrap me,
dans la vallee de l’être,
disturbed again, belt me down,
hear the loud roars and trouble,
that you cause all again,
strips of pain, panting verbs, knifed in vain,
and the voices, cut short, in the void,
bladed stars strip your thought,
trigger lungs, string up beams,
up the ladders, on cranes, over heads.
Over dreams, illusions are swallowed by the depth of the clouds,
and no air, and no breath, and no wind, and no sound,
are leading the sheep, though the gold water streams,
and shimmering rivers,
pour to Dreamland and watch,
see you jumping in strain,
shaking body, in vain,
now you can’t hold me down,
hold me down.
Bring it on, nerves alert,
sing a song, phones that ring,
legs that cross, spines that stretch,
spines that swing, spines that sing.
Sharp.
On a furious date, responding to color,
removed, when, burning coals fill the hands,
burning fingers that jump,
and from tips to the tips
of the toe to the finger,
all the bones that may dance,
miracle in the light,
sur la pointe des pieds,
through white curtains of rain.

The
flickering
flame
of
a
spine
shines
amongst
the
jellyfish
.
Flat
bastard.
Bring us back all you have stolen,
the leaves, the trees, and its roots.
The
flickering
spines
disrupt
the
silence
of
the
b
e
a
c
h
.