La création artistique coûte cher et je ne dispose pas d'un mécène.
Ma condition pour le moins précaire ne me permet pas d'occuper un atelier.
Si vous voulez contribuer à l'épanouissement d'un artiste, vous pouvez me faire un don.
Un, dix, cent euros, voire plus, vous pouvez donner ce que souhaitez, cela aide toujours à l'achat de matériel ou autre.
Contactez-moi à l'adresse :
surtout si vous croyez qu'un artiste doit travailler dans des conditions décentes
et que l'on peut faire mieux que du Koons.
Par avance, merci.
Je suis votre éternel obligé.
Things not to be said aloud
The thing I really appreciate about Madonna is her ability not to be afraid to tell about things that matter. She was not afraid to question faith and racialism in Like a Prayer, she was not afraid to question sex in Erotica, she wasn’t afraid to question emotions in Something to Remember, she wasn't afraid to question war and politics in American Life, she wasn't afraid to question herself in all of her songs.
Madonna is just not afraid to ask WHY?
Madonna is what I call an activist artist, in the supreme meaning of this term. Only Marilyn Manson and Trent Reznor can be compared to her. A real artist has to be concerned with issues considered repelling and dangerous by others and that’s what I am trying to do both in my books and in my statements. I have not chosen my condition, I would have probably preferred to stay in the best of all worlds possible but as a “fag”, a “wog” and a “genius”, I am faced to fight prejudice and ignorance.
There’s something I think interesting in La Vey’s writings ; the idea of becoming his own god, beyond all cults. That does not mean that I found my artistic approach on blasphemy but the “correctly political” world in which we live is shocked by anyone who tries to express his ideas as soon as they differ from those of the establishment. He is often refered as a sick and ill person, mentally-deranged although he speaks the truth.
De Sade, Wilde have suffered from the bigotry and the hypocrisy of so-called moralists, the first because he was trying to write what he wanted, was considered as a deviant, the second because he was gay in a puritan England went to jail.
As for me, being androphile and a wog only led me on the path to misery, because Whities cannot accept that I’m much more brilliant than them, when the Arab world, of which I have never been part, condemn me as a libertine, a fasiq as they say. I have always considered myself an atheist.
In Paris, the color of my skin has made me an eternal foreigner. Strangers there adopt the racialism of the upper-class and the Portuguese will express ideas of the most extreme-right wing when Africans will see in every man of Arabic descent a torturer. There is no place for tolerance and I am not looking for any political commitment.
I met a lot of different people all my lifelong.
Even the beautiful are frightening, they can kill with a smile and that is quite terrible. Hervé Joubert-Laurencin was one of them. He used me till I broke down. He could not admit that I was talented and clever. He thought that I was a toy-boy only because I was young and cute. He never gave me any chance to be me, or even just a fucking chance just to be. Only the rich and famous did interest him, and as I was poor and a wog, he did not have any good feeling towards me. He wanted me to have an errand life, like a Rom. He couldn’t imagin that I will write and tell the whole world the sufferings that I had known. Just because I was not white.
That's the real problem of French bourgeoisie: they are xenophobic. French condemn the USA for the way they handle with Afro-Americans but they do not want to be judged for their racial segregation. It comes from their colonialist past, and French people are real motherfuckers, I dare to say it, when they see people of Algerian descent. They cannot forget that they have lost the war and they still consider Algerian men as shit or crap. I probably use very strong words but this is the reality yet. I can testify for it.
I have been tortured, martyrized, beaten 'cause of my origins. Even if anthropologists state that races do not exist, for every French person, whatever his political opinion, races are a valid data. It is such a shame in this so-called country of human rights. French people cheat, ignore the laws or forget them when it handles with their mean, petit-bourgeois interests.
And there is no greater city of social hypocrisie as Paris, it is the city of cruelty, debauchery, arrogance. Parisian women have problems of weight and they always were jealous at me. Men are selfish, without any sense of judgement and very often they marry a grue who only has one goal : to use their money and divorce.
Paris homosexual world is a perverted place by money and lechery, men fuck with each other like animals, till the point of urinating, trampling or smelling bad odours and then they act as bitches.
Sometimes I really feel that I'm losing my consciousness. Am I a boy or a girl? Mentally-ill or sane and sound? I can't believe in the things that arrive to me. I am in quest for my Ideal, Beauty maybe because I feel ugly or abhorrent.
I despise myself but people think that I am narcissistic when I speak of my torments. Are not we all subject to doubt, failure, self-hate, distress faced to the world that surrounds us ? Isn't it universal?
I am sure that everybody can feel what I express. Am I better than others? No, of course but I am proud enough to tell my sufferings in a country that rejects me.
It threw me away, so it gotta have to pay. I've never been given any chance to be, so I won't cease to exist, to cry and to scream till France does recognize the harm that has been done to me.
When you are a true artist, only concerned and turned to your Ideal, you have a lot of things to say and you want to share them with other artists. You dream of having an interesting collaboration.
But then, you realize that you are used and abused. Artists harbour a great hate at each other. They think of you as a rival, they fear that you become more famous, talented, wealthy than they are.
So they are ready to destroy you, they lie, they behave like bitches.
It's not really interesting to work with them.
So I maybe prefer to stay by my own than to be surrounded by starfuckers and leeches.
I just wait for their death, which will soon arrive because most of bourgeois artists are into drugs and other kinky paraphernalia.
A mature artist is dedicated to his work, no matter what people think of him or try to do to destroy his reputation.
Some say I am a weirdo or a creep. Others will scream he's such a freak, he's a male whore, a wanton or a scoundrel.
I've been the subject of all kind of attacks possible : he's a psycho, a thief, a terrorist.
I am maybe poor, because the course of my life has been difficult. But I feel proud of everything I have done, even of my wanderings, even if sometimes I have not been respectful of what the bourgeoisie call the social order or morals.
I may have hurt, but by anger or uncounsciously, but I never felt pleasure of doing harm. I am neither a pervert, nor a sadist. Just the ol' good boy who dreams to play the bad boy.
The characters of my novels, like those of de Sade, are not me. They reflect the corruption of the world in which we live.
To survive here in Paris demands to be harsh, sometimes cruel, often authoritarian but that does not mean that you are a "salo".
It's just the only way to stay true to yourself, to keep some ideals, to preserve your reason from the hatred, the scorn and the violence of the ruling classes.
I am not a rebel, I am a child, not yet a wise man, but I think that corruption by means of money is the invention of bourgeoisie. A girl goes racist because she wants the last rag by Chanel, ready to abuse and to kill with as smile. That's a form of prostitution, the worst, the one I call immorality.
In the Bible, Mammon meant riches, it became a demon in Christianity.
And Jesus told his disciples that they will have to choose between God (Ideal) and Mammon (corruption).
I shall say that I do not know if there is any interest to choose God.
I ask for answers in a labyrinthic world, a world forsaken by a God who never did exist but in the minds of sheep. I have so much suffered. Am I guilty just to wanna be myself? Totally and differently?
I have been so misjudged, so harmed. I am hurt just like a dagger had pierced my heart. Inside of me, I am a black Virgin, the same as the Haitian worship as Erzulie. She had her tongue cut so she can't reveal the ceremony of Bois-Caïman organized by slaves who had decided to be free at last.
I could not have a child: I could not bear that it suffers the same as I did. If I had something to say to women, it would be pierce your womb so the baby will not be damned. Only you are responsible for your misdeeds, don't offer it this poisonous gift that's life.
Yet, it's a message of love, the greatest thing you can do to save your child, it is to kill it before it has born.
I truly understand the women who decide to abort, it's a wise decision and they shall not be judged.
Crucified by French society
Because I was gay, the most natural thing in the world and a tradition of both Ancient Greece and Japan, I had to quit my family who wanted me beaten and dead. I could have had a good career, I was not designed to. I don't know if we have a fate as humans, but mine was horrible. I was tortured by my family, harassed by stupid morons, injured as I tried to earn my life as a street dancer.
No fucking one ever helped me.
French people were racists and hypocritical, they used and abused me. Muslims looked at me as I was the one to kill. I received death threats.
As I tried to work, I was considered an idiot and mentally-ill. Psychiatrists said that I suffered from schizophrenia and I was taken against my will into a lunatic asylum. I was forced to take drugs which caused hairloss. I was labeled a hobo, a dangerous person, a thief. I was mentally destroyed by a so-called gay association.
I lived hell and that's the reason why I hate life and I want every fucking one to suffer the same as I did. People are fake, they did me harm because I suffered from nervous breakdown.
I cannot stand the big white world in which we live. It's what I call the bad joke of a fiendish, delirating and mad god.
There's noone left to hear our screams, noone left for us. If I could, I would blacken the Sun so noone could have light and warmth. Everyone would die and this way, I would probably be happy.
I am fed up of hearing whities complaining about their fate. They have everything to succeed but still need a scapegoat.
Leucoderm people are stupid, they have all advantages, do not suffer from any form of discrimination.
And yet they lie, they steal, they do drugs, they drink to give a meaning to their pitiful existence. I have no pity, no sympathy for them. They deserved to be castigated for their inner vacuum.
I am neither Mandela, nor the Mahatma. I profundly hate mediocrity and I cannot give other names to whities than wantons, rogues, scoundrels, tarts, prostitutes, whores and starfuckers.