Today it's late and I just hit my one big day again, so I'll make it short and simple. The tree has further progressed and the end approaches. Yannick and I finished sheet structures, Patrick has almost finished the ribs of the trunk and Stephane and Manu started to glaze forms grill. In other words we take the right track even if it remains close to 40 square meters of stained glass to do! For those who follow my travels a bit, and for comparison, the window that I did in 10 days in Belgium did little more than 7m, and there I still have 3 days ... It will work like niggers, if I may.
So to answer the last comments, I mean A.nonyme the guys, as I said earlier, are trying to wash the broken glass under the acacia and the large blue barrel. They return the carts to be able to sit just above.
Regarding matters of brother, I would say, yes it is a neglected because it only serves to virtually anything or anyone except the squatters who come here to eat, clothes, or extend piss. But the little passage that I mentioned makes it accessible by the angle and the other side it is open on the street. On the other hand, the day will be demolished or precast will take the place of depth, it will almost double surface, take the evening sun and the tree will find a place more interesting. Then Doual'art account may be open its fence to give direct access from the garden. So I think to say that it's really become a place even if it must be admitted that the city has so many abandoned places it is far from improbable that nothing ever happens until what entropy takes over. This responsibility escapes me somewhat. Once born, the work will live its own life without me, "Go pound, you who was born in the grave where my mind ...", save you if you know what I mean.
In terms of urban issues more generally, I intend to write a text by the end of the stay over there but for now this is not the time, I swapped my hands and my brain Apprentice nerd against the blue jacket a good workman. My hands are swollen, my arms burned by welding, I even have a finger buds, my brain about it in practice mode, and in such cases the poetry that comes out is a little, shall we say , oumpapa .
Hasta luego .
Freddo
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