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By Francis Willm, 2014

It is midday, I go out of the analysis laboratory for a blood test.

I sit down in a coffee shop and open the envelope containing my results, while sipping a beer.

The first form gives these following information :
Family name : Willm First name : Francis
Sex : male
Place of birth : Orsay Country : France
Date of birth : 1964
Private address : 3 street Paul Janet ; 67000 Strasbourg-France
Professional address : d°
Profession : Visual artist / Plastics artist

- It's really me, even if I don't remember anything due to a fall from a ladder during the hanging of the pictures for an exhibition…
Caused by the Stendhal syndrome, perhaps ?! The famous journey's disorder… It is only later that I learnt that this writer was a member of the Circle P.

The bottom of the forms concerns my results :
Content in white blood cell : none
Content in red blood cell : none
Notes : Abnormally present endogenous element, tracks of pink
blood. Shocking!

Fortunately for me, the takings and the hematological analyses are made by discrete robots.

The second form presents photos of several museums all around the world. Surprising !

I decide to go back home. Crossing the road, a blue car darkens me above, at the same time I feel pushed, violently, on the side.
Wanting to thank my guardian angel, the unknown runs away. A detail calls out me, he or she, wears a pink hood.

Finally at home sit in my armchair, a “Le Corbusier” made in China, I caught side of an unusual item on the living room's table.

A blue urn… My curiosity incites myself to open the opaque flask. Inside, pink ashes… which I spill on the ground. An antique key, was in.
The inscription E.D. and a circle are engraved.

Next day, I return at my studio which I rent since 10 years. At first sight the place is tidied up well. All is white, no colours' marks, no splash… The canvases are white… Blanks… Overexposed photos are tidied up in a tray, the clay to make mouldings are also white…
All the tools, paintbrushes, knifes, cameras are white and seem new.
-What the hell is that ?! I have the impression to be in a set of a store front.
-“Mystery Hide and Mystery Pink are not far behind.” These words turn in my head like a refrain.

A dizzy spell effect gains me… I need to lay myself on the couch, the white couch… I close my eyes. Visions invade my mind…
Characters, chimeras, pink, blue are fighting between them in the form of sculptures, paints, photos, performances. Urban sounds, signs, graphs live in these playlets. Three letters make appearance in this hallucinatory decorum : BMF.

Troubled by those 48 hours in “ peyotl way”, I rise in my car and drive following the curve of the sun.

After some kilometers, I arrive at the the toll's gantry. I rise my window and wait for the ticket before to cross the gate. But nothing… I push on the interphone to get some information. Nothing…

30 seconds after, a sizzling voice reminding me an “istanbulite” fakir, asks me : “the key please, the key please”. During a little moment, I turn right and left observing cars and their occupants keep up normally their fate.
I remember me the big key in my pocket. I put down it in the drawer of the distributor. A voice off, different, likeable and feminine, perhaps the fakir's sister, whispers me : “Wilkommen at home, we were waiting you !” The voice of the ARTE presenter ?! It must be
a TV show. A media joke.


Part 1 : In the discovery of Artland
I put the first speed, put the pedal to the metal and “hop”, a giant porch appears and opens it.

The world that I discover, deserves a literary uchronia, a stay in the big past of the History and, especially, a big nonsense. Marco Polo and Lewis Carroll are not far. I
am going to wake up. And no ! Because two voices take me back of my bubble.
-“How do you feel ?” Says the first one on my right on a teasing tone.
-“K live him alone please” says the clandestine passenger at the back of the car.
-“Ok Bella” answer her partner.

Futhermore, the two swindlers wear a pink hood and civil clothing.
Shit ! I brake and park my car near of the black asphalt line. I scold them and ask them : “que pasa ? Who are you ?!”
-“Well” answer the first one. “As in every attack and memory loss we are here to learn again you who you are and your mission.”
-I react : “How, who I am, in which shelf and what is this fucking mission ?”
-Simply, you are the artist of the P nation for a world pinker.
My face flaunts :-/

Bella pushes me and takes my place, saying : “we will tell it you more upon our arrival”.

At the back I contemplate the extraordinary landscape. Fields of easels of different size, trunks of rollers of
hessian and cotton, trees with brushes oozing from colours, broadleaved trees of paint scrapers, climbing plants of boards contact photographs, flying canvases and frames… Pens, musical instruments, walking and dancing (….)
K tells me : “don't worry they are only useful tools for our quest for a better world. The Pink utopia.
On the road is pinned a triangle road sign “lipstiked” in red. A black trident is drawn on a white bottom.
Bella, understanding my surprise reveals me that we approach a crossroad.
-The left way leads to the blue world, the “no friendly”. On the right one it is the Pinkas' world, our home. In front of us, the Exotics (the greens, the reds, the yellows, the cyan, the magentas, the clear and dark contrasts, and the complementary. The neutrals and the opportunists. Behind us, the human confederation. These three roads seem to converge on the same direction.
My face flaunts :-//

We approach of a dantean city under a Malabar dome. At the entrance a fluorescent pink huge neon shows “TWOLOOSE, 15 billion souls + 3 hosts in shape of toilets icons. 2 men and 1 woman. Streets are full of advertising slots with the singer Pink.
Stop at the huge fuchsia called the P.F. place, in the middle of this place there is a Pink Floyd's sculpture filled with a crowd with Persian eyes.
I come down from my destroyer and at the same time a child run toward me with a bouquet of roses.
My face flaunts :-///

Suddenly, a megaphone voice repeats the bla-bla of TWOLOOSE's mayor. “The BMF brigade and the artist F.W. are back, welcome to you !”.

A scattered crowd applauds.

My face flaunts :-O

Part 2 : the revelation
So K brings out a suitcase, opens it and puts me between hands a leather book of magic spells pinked by time and a beer put on the bumper of my old car.
Turning the pages, texts and images move between them The first page tittles : Old world's cosmology. Text and illustrations follow.

A the beginning there was the Big Chromatic circle which served as a hoop for Muse. All beings, fancies and entities 'mother

First day she created la toile

On the second day, she created brushes, pens, musical instruments and camera darkened
On the third day, she gave birth to all the Colors
On the fourth day, she created the artist
On the fifth day she created the Eye of Judas
On the sixth, she built the museum
On the seventh day, she surrounded herself with an adviser. The gallery owner
In this seven days industrial project , god E.D. will born (erase disc) of universe and impermanence where everything moves and changes.
He was surrounded with a spiritual Guardians-lookout' army
Concerning Willmus, ED's cultural advisors, they have developed powerful armies. The misappropriation, by trompe l'oeil style for example, humor and good mood.
Bio-graphics write down the first saint writing. True bridges between two worlds and human soul's seismograph.

The second chapter deals with Pre-Pink period.
This period illustrates the observation of earthling by the Grotesques present in Monkey World and parodies drawing a world acting foolishly.
Pre-pink civilization is a scientific acceptance recognized as representing the Arland first hominids by E.D.'s people, by Pedestrians, anonymous people and by Ro-box who are Homo Allienus on Earth.

Chapter 3 deals with Pink modern period with BMF civilization.
Birth of Banana Manifesto universe 's
Modern period reveals new entities' birth.
Kamalous, Masked Saints/ Saints of sewers, 12 apostles' clan and Masked virgins

The last chapter sends us back to a reflection of a world to come, of rumors of future discoveries, forward plannings and tracks of a cultural future Pink.
As Big Kamalou and its various, the workers, The Knip, musical sulfur Razzle Dazzle, BMF Photo Roman, Dots, Pinkas' fashion, E. D. people's descendants, The Pink Gates, Toys, urban Land art, Go Golem, Plastic Men, Only Women Only Men, The P Artefacts, B-EAR, Bad Republika, LENS, P Tsunami, The Mou-Mou, Catus Cityzen….

Part 3 : The quest
Now my face shows: . My road map is clear.

Get back with K and Bella on the blue planet, to fight and to collaborate with others colors.

Continue my quest of researches, discoveries and artistic realizations under pseudonym Francis Willm to find forgotten Eden Pink.

Now I just have to share Pink spirit via Banana Manifesto, build the eighth continent, welcome new universal Man & Golbot and introduce a new universal Nature.

Appointment is taken. See you soon !

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