ISSN : 2266-6060


Dieppe, august 2006.

The time always comes when we shall leave. Ordinary social time resumes its course and vacation spots disappear in the rear window. Only memories remain and some snapshots to fix them. The buoy and the boat are made of metal, frozen in the eternity of the cold winter. The begging is only permitted for objects and locks prevent other hands than those who save from taking donations.
So maybe a last gesture before leaving. As tourists take their planes, boxes are offered to collect their now valueless change and serve noble causes. To Picardy coast boaters, this metonymic urn shows that holidays could have been fatal and their gift is less altruistic than for the care of the self.

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