Image courtesy of Editions DILECTA, Paris
In an instant, she stands closer to him. He can feel her. Shortly after that he steps in the state of blankness. He slides through a long hallway that is white. It is empty for a second. There is no sound at all. Just a moment ago, he hears footsteps along the corridor. He was sleeping through the night. Perhaps even longer than he could have planned.
He follows her through a garden gate. He slowly walks on the grass; there is some green; there is some yellow. Some colors appear. It is smooth and he can taste the freshness of morning dew on each leaf he passes by. The smell of freshly cut grasses lures his breath upward and his chest expands. It is as deep as drinking a glass of hot chocolate all at once. Although the crispness is running down with a tiny burn, it is also warm and that gives him assurance to carry on with his walk. Looks like she has more to show him in the garden. The atmosphere begins to get blurry. He is fine with it. Because he is not planning to look deep into anything anyway. He has the impression that at the end of the path leads somewhere he has not seen. He realizes he might have visited this garden before, but this time around it is much more intriguing because of her. His mind starts drifting away and he doesn’t bother searching for past memory. What he is focusing right now is her. As he is running his fingers through her hair, everything feels sweet. It is intense. He has nothing to hang onto except for his breath and a substantial “something” deep down in the stomach that keeps him going. She says a few words and he replies back, but it doesn’t really mean much. To both, all the way through is simply mumbling. He thinks she is trying to explain him various types of flowers along the bushes. The sun is nowhere near. It is hidden very far behind long giant trees in the back. He is hoping a ray of sunlight will wake him up and opens the passage so that he can clearly see what is ahead. The air is light, but slightly moist. He is in between of his fragmented memory of a place that he knows so well and a place that she shows him for the first time. Could it be the place they were talking about a few days earlier?
Some flowers are in bloom; some leaves are still multiplying. He sees his reflection through the bees’ eyes. He wonders how strange it can be to have most of the living species blown up into super proportion. But he doesn’t mind. At first, he holds his feet tight on the ground. Gradually he is having fun with the fact that the garden is at play. Most of the trunks turn purple and white bulbs are hanging straight down from tree branches.
Imagination or not he is asking himself whether he should construct these images into a permanent state of projection. Is she saying that this is the place for them to settle down for a while? He is not sure he is prepared for it. His hands are holding hers so tightly and from the way she clutches onto his, he knows she wants him to pass through. At the bottom of the fairy tale, at the end of the passage, he will cross the garden and from this moment on he knows that he will endure everything, just for her.
……
“And cut!”
“Everything happening is real,” says artist Martine Aballéa, to the audience in the room where an experiment of exhibiting arts and movies is displayed. Born in 1950 in New York, “Martine Aballéa is an unclassifiable figure in contemporary art, and an expert in creating elusive atmosphere with mental images to be penetrated.” (1)
Daylight arrives. The screen is now switched back to normal mode. After a story being told, reality begins to kick in. Among many including the actor and actress played in this short movie, it is hard not believe in Martine Aballéa. The dreamy garden, the smell of grasses, the passage, all is still raw.
The unanticipated journey continues to reveal in this limited-edition photography of 5 copies, named “Bois Normand”, which is printed of ultrachrome inks on paper. This is a genuine example of how a flux of colorful images can mesmerize the audience and carry them into a dreamy promenade. After we all enter an obscure and spectacular scene, life comes surreal. The explanation stays with the fairy, who lives at the bottom of the garden.
(1) Dilecta - Maison et Galerie D’editions