Hippolyte Thillard - 'The path remains engraved '

You see I’m here — just there. My hands, my face. Two grey eyes. That’s me. But not only. It goes beyond that simple shell. I mean : flesh and bones aren’t mine. Nevermind it’s long a story. I cross my legs. I trim my nails. I’m stressed. Why ? No idea. I do my best, that’s all buddy. Time is a funny thing. Today I am a tool. I’ll show you the way. You probably have some expectations of me. So do I. We all know about the rules and stuff. But there are so fucking heavy. Even if I’m saying I’m okay maybe I’m not. My body speaks in my back. It has its own rythms. Like water. I watch videos on the internet to improve myself. To understand what happens to me. You know I just want to get some peace. Real peace. I think it is quite simple. Real peace means death. No more struggle. No more images. Just silence. That’s why I burried myself. I laid my naked body underground. I covered my face with soil. I smelled it. I breathed. And all of a sudden, it happened — peace. Now, I can start from scratch.
Each image is a ghost. An individual is a well. You can feel it. My body has died many times. Every time you look at me, I am brand new. I am neutral — or surprised. Thousand of green dots are moving on my face. Even for a second computers can tell when i’m sad. Even if I’m not aware of it myself. Computers know better than me how I feel. My emotions are geometrical figures drawn across my face. How wonderful. How terrifying. World, world, world. Listen — I’m better now. Since I was resurrected. Good news. My heart is beating. You are watching me, and you are still alive. Good news. I am trying to feel, you get it ? What could I do. My body moves slowly. Slowly. What an infinite jail. When I look closer I see how pretty the miracle is. I contain so much lines. So much particles. Yesterday is over. I’ve changed. Winter has come. A thin sheet of ice covers now the mirror. I’m exploring the little world of my organism. Each organ does its job. I can recall of the orphan days. The wind on my neck. The ripples on the lake.
Every year, the snake sheds its old skin, alright. But does the dead skin still belong to it ? I do not know what remains. The words I say do not belong me. The air enters my lungs, then leaves. The air doesn’t belong to me. I am part of the process. That’s all. I’m becoming stranger and stranger. I mutate. I don’t even look like me anymore.
It is all made by the dream machine. People come and go. They are like rooms I pass through. That’s what she said — a friend of mine. She is sex-addict. There is nothing to do but burn and melt. Desire is like a meteorite — it comes from far away. It does not belong to our world.
I looked closer. I put myself under the microscope, and everything I found was impersonal. That’s the key : the closer you go, the farther you arrive. There is something behind all this shit. I promise. I mean it. Call it whatever you want — I don’t care. Energy or god. But I swear, I can feel it. How else could you explain the blood ? The water ? Miracle. That’s all. Trust me — miracle exist.
My face is looking at you, disappearing. I am an affected interface — socially, globally. Communication drains me sometimes. I have to let go. I blur my picture, just to keep
things moving in my head. Moving. Everything moves — inside, outside. I try to do my best. I mean it. You see me and it’s not about me. It’s about the wind. The fire. You know — big elements. Bigger than us. Let’s take a walk. Let’s breathe in silence. We have to listen. Just be here. Just for a while.

********** Français **********

L'artiste contemporain Hippolyte Thillard présente The Path Remains Engraved, une exposition immersive au Reset de Bruxelles, composée de six projections vidéo issues de performances explorant les liens entre le corps, la technologie et la psyché humaine. Chaque œuvre invite le spectateur à une introspection profonde, révélant des états émotionnels et psychologiques à travers des expériences sensorielles uniques.

The Path Remains Engraved invite le spectateur à un voyage introspectif, plongeant les visiteurs dans une ambiance sonore enveloppante et des projections captivantes, les invitant à réfléchir sur leur propre perception et les interactions entre le corps, la technologie et l'esprit.