Since dawn, I’ve been drawing sheep with my finger on your back. The skin scraped, then polished by the gesture. I haven’t told you everything, of course. Three thousand years, that’s how long it took the Earth to turn around. Between skin and skin, between bark and bark. A slow numbing of all the senses, a kind of contained vertigo. It’s a matter of gravity and hair loss, a simple mathematical calculation. The girls become sand castles and the boys, clouds.
With these hair-raising micro-narratives, Laurence Leduc-Primeau offers a lively and refreshing universe filled with irresistible images. A fantastic dive into the land of porcelain dolls and marzipan castles, a procession of griffins and unicorns, hands between thighs and tender caresses, a winged fable hidden under chaos, Zoologies emancipates itself from reality to get closer to the flesh.
