As soon as the unimportant detail catches our attention, it breaks our conventional reading…
Suddenly, the insurance of the ordinary begins to sway. Of course, unimportant detail is disorder and transgression. Don’t we say that the devil is in the detail? All the more for the unimportant detail.
It borns on the spot or slowly flourishes its playfulness. It can live few seconds or curl up in the habit until to be destroy by an inconscious. Never intentional as the sewing machine on a dissection table with whom it is related however, it can give the impression to come from the mind of a Père Ubu clashing two realities. Some would speak of tensions. I prefer to see a discreet irony tearing the great silent homogeneity of our relationship to the world. It is the flaw opening on a revelation, an interrogation, a connivance in a breathing of pleasure, happiness and freedom.
Always in progress.
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