13 000 Bouches-du-Rhône 
13000 Bouches-du-Rhône picks up through the landscape of my experience in this French department. My uncle dies. Sadness and solitude. I leave Fos-sur-Mer for a few days where I’m working in a project. To drive dilutes me through the landscapes and I think of him. I remember of the day when we fished a swordfish and he had to cut the spear piercing the hand of that boy. Memories. But now I’m in Marseille, where he arrived in 1962. The images appear in the distance, cold, changing into a reflex of my mood. People that take up a space whose presence remains absorbed by the environment , and places that hold an experience that will never come back. This is my experience, my sensation being in those places. Being without really being. This is my homage to Loulou.
