/e/ exposition/Programmation / Dans cette arène sans poussière où les émotions se décolorent
by Eliott Paquet

> écrit il y a par

As she grabs a towel, she gets naked and puts on a green mud and seaweed mask on her face. «Turn on the bathtub’s led lights, heat the water and the oor, switch on the bubbles and the tea tree mist» Google home expects orders like an obedient sheep.
In her house, in the middle of her two huge rooms — at exact same schizo distance from both — a stomach-shaped, indoor pool, a flexed elbow — everything is ergonomic, you know what I mean. On the right, a private gym, in the back, a minimalist of ce with glass tables and plants; two, three or four aloes, a ficus lyrata, several orchid alevilla, a sanseviera, a philodendron, a library with books, everything is the same color. The linen curtains and sofas are pastel, the oors are white, covering all the large spaces. Two or three Buddhas and a Vishnu and a Ganesha. Everything is soft, very soft, like the clinic of an Apple dentist. The garden is Japanese — it has good feng shui, I dunno —, and there’s also lot of marble. Outside the front door, there is a sports car shiny shiny like an expensive pearl.
Liv opens ceremonially the packaging of her new body cream. The box makes an exquisite sound when she opens it — sliding paper against paper. She then grasps the foam rubber and the plastic inside. Sssshhhhrr. Pure joy. She smears it. A bit of Hydra Zen from Lancome, with NeurocalmTM, is spread out, and she leaves the pot, a pink dwarf crystal quartz jar, on top of a ceramic plate.
She immediately feels how it reduces the effects of environmental and emotional stress on her face, on her tits, on her legs and on her belly, and perceives how it calms and attenuates the tightness of her wrinkled, dry and atopic skin.
She managed to sell more shares on the stock market than expected; in fact, she has sold a shitload of it, promotion that nobody wanted.
She became a real Pump-n-Dump, obtaining a benefit of 1%, way above what her boss number 1 and her boss number 2 imagined.

She takes a pill with a vitamin booster, the bathtub is ready, the fruity smell of the bathroom and the heat fill everything, and you do not see a fucking thing anymore. She bathes, masturbates, combs her hair, takes a shit and then puts on the Gucci esh-colored tracksuit that lays on the bed. Perfumed and prepared. Like a new skin of a synthetic snake. She wears this set from the 2018 Cruise collection, a tribute to the equestrian world, a 100% cotton beige Jacquard GG. She now feels ready like a laser, relaxed and 100% motivated.
On her laptop, she reviews the talk she will give tomorrow about creative efficiency; an impeccable Keynote document in which she talks about productivity, competitiveness and innovation. She will mention technology, results, leadership and improvements, but should not forget to end her speech by highlighting the words HAPPINESS and GOOD.
She vapes on an electronic cigarette through her satisfied mouth, puffing away as she rehearses the speech. She uploads the le onto the cloud.
Now that a layer of uniform fat fully covers it, her skin shines like heaven. She caresses her tracksuit, looks at it, vapes.
1% pro t. It’s massage time.
Eliott Paquet is pleased to announce the inauguration of his artist-run space Placement Produit. An attractive venue in the city of Aubervilliers near Paris, focused on the production and exhibition of young contemporary artists.
For the space’s rst exhibition, the artist presents a new series of ergonomic pieces that re ects product design, nature, the human body, as well a set of graphic works that refer to corporate language, neoliberal lifestyle, wellness and the axioms of global business.