time is out of joint.

They stop at a tree trunk, covered with historic dates. She mentions an unknown name. As in a dream, he points beyond the tree and hears himself saying "that is where I come from," and he fall back, exhausted. Another wave of time washes over him, the result of another injection perhaps.

414 pictures
I load the usb drive on the computer in the maze of car-tires in the basement of Palais de Tokyo and press PRINT.

I come back an hour later
the printer is spitting page after page on the floor. I start to tape them in a different order.

like a roll of film
out of the
camera

the sound of tape being ripped

Chris Marker had died in 2012
I still remembered
the pain in my chest

Moebius, the comics artist also went.

I often imagine them together travelling in a small plane. Escaping under a false identity, past 90 years of age. To map another realm.

the wall
the floor

the maze
becoming print and footprints

is this the picture that caught your eyes in the flow of time ?

thank you, printer n°2

the pier at the airport of Orly, where the (unforgettable) scene takes place, was closed for years.

then in 2010 it reopened to the public. I even played, right there, an extra in a movie set in the 70s about mercenary/terrorist Carlos, the scene I was in included a gunshot, and everyone fell to the floor. It was shot and reshot again. We got up, talked, act natural, then fell again in fright.  It was almost a performance act. We stopped counting.

I wondered if i had entered a loop.

I started to remember the opening lines of La Jetée : "Nothing sorts out memories from ordinary moments. Later on they do claim remembrance when they show their scars. That face he had seen was to be the only peacetime image to survive the war. Had he really seen it?"

from phone-camera to instagram
to dropbox archive
to gif compilation
to website experiment
to hotglue samizdat
letter

action / archive

one for one
is the best
way to pro-
ceed with
movies

a strange currency (and stranger currents)

La Jetée
and
Trois Couleurs : Bleu

a file
a name
a size which disregards
the weight we carry here-after

URL
Uniform Resource Locator


a place in the web

a link

and on the other side
somehow
more than ink

is this how the/my memory-bank ends
this entry ?

it doesn't feel right yet

oh yes.

Tokyo.

In the Golden Gai district of Shinjuku amidst the crowded crowds. A hundred very small establishments from which people hop from bar to bar.

Further East.

but only one is kept open by an old friend of Chris Marker,
Tamoyo.

She called her bar La Jetée.

in memoriam.

ten square meters of whispers and cinema-fueled discussion in every tongue.

na zdrowie !

a bit of Paris
in Tokyo

a small place
bigger than most palaces.

I didn't take the last two pictures

relying on the web collective memory

opened by the right query

but this is the memory I wanted to share.

Enter, it is Sidouri's Inn
on the sea-shore, at the edge of the world, in the epic of Gilgamesh,
the last bar at the end of the world.

the favourite joint of yonder memories, it never closed.

Enter, take a chair,
she says you're most welcome.

here !

7 years ?