A dream with Gene


It was a public space, a kind of square, I think in the north of France.
You were there too, we were actually looking at this square from a high position, it looked like we had climbed on some buildings, and I remember the feeling of vertigo, but you seemed to be less affected by it, like the fisherman on the cliff in Poe’s tale. It was in the evening, there were different groups of people on the square, mainly young people, dispatched around what appeared as a sort of large monument: like a small hill covered by paving stones, and on one side of it we could see a sort of downward spiral made of plates from different matters (mainly metal and stone, it seemed), and which were slowly moving in a curious and probably pre-programmed way. There was a hole at its center, sometimes with light, and nobody actually seemed to be paying much attention to it, a little bit like the sort of indifference that we have towards monuments we have seen only too much.