5:43 p.m., rue Georges de Porto Riche, Paris 14.

There are days when I have no idea, no particular desire, rather low energy. For my daily dance, it could all be equal, I don’t even know how I’m going to do it, it could be anywhere. Anywhere, yes of course, but not all “anywhere” are possible. It takes a special “anywhere”, a gray wall, maybe, but not just anyone. It needs a frame, a cinematographic frame. Without frame no dance. The framework is the condition for the possibility of the minute of dace. So I ride my scooter and look around. Nothing calls me. And then all of a sudden, at the bend of a street, I say to myself, here, yes, it’s possible. and I dance.