Eons have passed. The planet stands still, mute, while a dying sun bathes the vestiges of a forsaken civilisation. Life has been reduced to a handful of species that wander in endless plains of concrete.
But something is causing a stir in that silent stasis; a shadow, hovering relentlessly towards Terra Oblivia. Everyday It moves towards the structure, yet forever drifts away from it
The Bordeaux-Lazuli series — see more here
TacK六 is a Nabya teenager who writes his name and his sub-cluster number everywhere he goes. He says it is something he just has to do. His TacK六 appears in tube stations and inside tube cars all over the city, on walls along Alpha-dori, at the old interpolis terminal and other places. He has spawned hundreds of imitators, including KanKuu, 바티스토, BAMZ and Sho泉.
To remove such words, plus the obscenities and other graffiti in tube stations, it cost 80,000 manhours, or about 300,000 XEU, in the last year, the Transit Authority estimates.
“I work, I pay gabelles too and it doesn't harm anybody,” TacK六 said in an interview, when told of the cost of removing the graffiti.
The actual offense, a Transit Authority enforcer said, is classed as a violation because it is barred only by Transit Authority rules, not by cluster law. Anyone older than 16 who is caught would only get a 2-month sentence, another enforcer said.
TacK六 said he had never been caught in the tubes. He was once suspended from Harkan Disciplinary School for a week for writing on walls, though, and a Syndicate agent once gave him a stern lecture with bruises for writing on a Syndicate car during a parade.
The youth, who said he would enter a local vocational school in September, conceded that his passion for graffiti was not normal: “Since there are no more student deferments, maybe I'll go to a shrink and tell him I'm TacK六. I'm sure that will be enough to get me a psychological deferment.”
But he added: “I could never retire. I still carry a small katalit swiped in print mode around with me.”
The NabYa Times, July 21-Y71...
The Scènes de Rue series — see more here
Japanese rock gardens (枯山水, karesansui) are miniature stylised landscape made of rocks, moss sometimes, gravel and sand. Its gravel is raked in different patterns meant to represent ripples at a surface of a pond. Zen gardens are usually in monasteries, like the famous karesansui of Ryoan-ji temple in Kyoto. Rock gardens are an expression of the essence of nature, a sight that invite to meditate about the true meaning of life.
A Poetic vision of forsaken Zen gardens. Rakes have stopped combing the gravel ages ago, yet flowing patterns still emerge from tarnished and polluted grounds. No more visitors, no more birds, just silence. Void.
The Zen Garden series — see more here
Centuries of uncontrolled urban and demographic expansion have created labyrinthine zettapoles where the great capitals of the world once stood. The names of these ancient cities have long been forgotten. The uniformisation of habitats and cultures, the systematic destruction of the environment have erased geographical distinctions and it is now impossible to know to which country these structures once belonged. France, New York, Asia… Words that no longer mean anything.
Zettapoles stretch boundlessly, surrounded by nothing but plains of black ashes and stagnant seas.