Thickness

Marseilles, January 2019

In cities, it is often forbidden to write on walls, surfaces so welcoming for chalk, bombs, felts or brushes, but regulationally or functionally intended for other uses. And when some violate the rules, it is then necessary to abrade, dissolve, erase and repaint to restore the walls virgin appearance and surface.
But sometimes the wall is not a wall, nor even a window or a door: as you approach this unusual writing, as in the photo, you can see the lines separating the facets of the shutter, which had previously been hidden in the street alignment.
Then the written word is no longer what threatens the technical and social order, but what protects it against the overlayer that is elsewhere a remedy. The texture and thickness of the paint, so important in the history of art, have become inappropriate binders and glues.