Getting lost is our greatest freedom.

Take a path without knowing the end or the stones.

Plunge into cold or boiling water, is it really water?

Freedom is wandering.

The steamer descends the blue slopes of Big Colorado under coal explosions.

Helmeted armies take their strength in the yellow eye and the red sun of the Moscow river.

The hills fall like cakes out of the oven yes ja! yes ja! shouts the red child.

*These texts were intentionally google-translated to be lost.

View the exhibition.

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(image: Untitled (D0324), Matthieu Morin)