No dents, dings or scratches

2018, dimensions variables, plâtre, acier, cotton, résine, plastique, terre cuite, tirages sur bâche pvc

Men-Do-Ci-No. Men do. See? No. Do you see behind the Redwood Curtain? No.

Neoprene brand boots. Camo surplus. Guns and brass nug- gets. Redneck + dreadlocks = dreadneck. Peace, love and fuck off. It’s the wild west 2017. There’s another gold rush in California, selling scis- sors. The corporations are coming and the emerald farmer won’t go down wit- hout a fight. Safety in the hills. This is the Emerald Triangle and it isn’t a Bejewelled copycat from Silicon Valley. The golden wealth is tangible. Bitcoin accepted.

The sun crests the ridge... At night thick, roiling ten- drils of a mirthless fog creep ashore. Trees, cars and houses are absorbed and disappear. This town is a ghost town. The unwavering rumble of waves, the chirpchirpcheepcheep of bird blather.

I keep seeing mold when I close my eyes. I want to trim trees and kitten’s ears.

In the morning the fog will be gone but so too will be a great, shambling old Victorian town house or an aban- doned car, rusted to its core or maybe even a tree, its limbs gnarled and contorted like grand- ma’s fingers at prayer.

Tim Joaquim

No dents, dings or scratches est une fenêtre d’entrée sur la vie et les pratiques quotidiennes de Phil, Nick, Steve et Lucky, fermiers du nord de la Californie qui passent l’année cachés au fond des forêts de séquoias géants a cultiver des fleures. Chacun met au point son propre système pour mener à bien son entreprise. Les fleures sont récoltées puis passent quinze jours à sécher dans des cabanes de stockage en bois au milieu d’un amoncellement d’outils et d’engins qui portent en eux les traces de modifications formelles.