Mas le Trimaran Zuydcoote Residency

18 March / 6 April 2019

With the support of DRAC and ARS Hauts-de-France.

S* hates Monday, the session of Snoezelen** of 45 minutes lived as 10 minutes. The expressiveness of M* 's gaze during this session.

The language so different from vocal synthesis, its rhythm, the rhythms all so different, and the framework, protocols, daily life, regular appointments, meals, activities or not, medication, small incidents, the various noises that professionals hear without hearing with this small detector that scans in case of an alert.

And my rhythm, where is it?

Slow down, adapt, counter-time, be there in the moment to let it emerge....

 

* Persons will be named by a letter for anonymity reasons.

**Developed in the 1970s, the term Snoezelen is the contraction of Snuffelen (sniffing, smelling) and to Doezelen (drowse), which could be translated around the notion of sensory exploration and relaxation. The Snoezelen is an activity lived in a specially designed space, lit by dimmed light, lulled by soft music, a space whose purpose is to recreate a pleasant atmosphere.

First times, older memories, buried memories.

Memory as a time scale.

Without warning, without expecting it, the unspeakable, the indefinable, the inexpressible, the inexpressible, the "unquantifiable" emerges. Eyes shine, tell me so much about a privileged relational quality.

La perception celle d’un monde « extérieur », de ses collègues, des familles, des cadres, du temps qui passe.

Ask yourself about the time in a Specialised Center.

Is there a different rhythm in the institute?

Sound punctuations: "It* goes to your room! ", footsteps squealing on the plastic floor, incomprehensible words, rumbling sounds, the metronomic hum of the coffee machine compressor.

At regular intervals, the corridor light goes out. Again in the distance the soles crunch, someone whistles Maya the bee.

In the meantime, the senses are sharpened...

Metronomic also the luminous announcement that welcomes us to the MAS le Trimaran

First breakfast alone, in the large refectory, or how space affects our perception. My chair is too low or this table too high, I think back to this exhibition that I visited in a wheelchair with a hanging totally unsuitable for my eye level.

During my first tour of the establishment I only see one clock, inattention?

On the last day of immersion, if I had to summarize all these exchanges, it is the word "love" that would certainly be the most accurate.

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