« We don't stop progress, the birds look down on us, there is no alternative to progress, for the birds we go on TV, the alternative to progress is progress, nature progresses, on the scale of the tropics the seahorses are domestic animals, culture progresses, the birds are teachers, the universe progresses and expands, the birds sing like hoodlums, two seconds before the big bang everyone looked the same, the birds keep talking to us, the point of progress points beyond itself, the birds are anthropologists, they're goofing around observing us, beyond progress there is what progress is moving towards, the animals are medicines, there is an exterior to progress that attracts progress towards it, therapists are anthropological birds that glandle and observe, non-progress, the opposite of progress aspires towards it, it's logical, mathematical, obvious, animals are anthropologists who gently point their faces, the point of progress points beyond itself, it's funny, we are all medicines, it's funny, beyond progress there is the latency of the funny, the birds sing like thugs therapists, the world as visible is a joke, the hypothetical and absurdly funny progress of the future is a joke, the hypothetical and absurdly funny progress of the future is a joke in the present and in the past, the seahorses are cleverly dispatched here and there along the tropics, Nature is workaholic, the forest is not just an office, puddles are screens, the funny, absurd and sad non-progress aspires to it progress, somewhere all animals are domestic, the funny, absurd and sad non-progress that aspires to it progress breathes and regresses, it digests, ventilates, points the past into the future and vice versa, Somewhere in the world, life is domestic through and through, life is the joke that the planet has found to be funny, plants are always crying but cleverly, everyone is on the hook, screens are puddles, puddles are jokes, plants are on the hook, the hook of pets is habitat, In the cockpit, from the top of their trees the crows look at us and make fun of us, we progress in the intelligence of the cockpit say the pets, as the crows make fun they point out what is ridiculous and in doing so advise us, the seahorses float straight as i's imitating the trees, their ataraxy is fluid and vertical, crows are our black advisers, our dark advisors in hollow, the progress of the future is the pet of the eye of the past, progress is a pet that plays with us, the eyes of seahorses imitate birds in the trees, the world is a pond, crows and seahorses are office colleagues. »
- Antoine Boute is the guest author of the CAC La Traverse's artistic text production system for the exhibition Forêt thérapie. This Belgian writer born in Brussels in 1978 is also a sound poet, essayist and event organizer who explores the impacts between body, language and voice according to various media and means (paper, internet, stage).
