I’ve been wearing these dreads for 20 years. They carry the marks of the time passed during these 20 years, of what I lived, some joyful things and some less, like having been under someone’s influence, without me being aware of it at first, until I chocked and lost my confidence, my dignity. I wasn’t myself anymore, like depossessed of my own self.
With this metaphorized work , I imprison and strangle myself with my dreads. The braids are little moments of hope of be able to latch onto some things, during this moment where we’re totally lost. The flowers, like the ones we leave on a grave, I grieve this period of time.
The destruction = death.
“the influence is above all mental : it designs a break with the mind, a hand on the being, the existence and the thoughts of others, under the form of domination, influence and manipulation, in order to dispose and benefit from it, even to the point of destruction."