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About Marseille

Yo, man, I’m spittin’ this raw, like I’m Kanye, brain wild, thoughts jumpin’ like a bull in the ring, talkin’ ‘bout findin’ a prostitute, aight? Picture me, stormin’ through the streets, vibes heavy, like Daniel Plainview in *There Will Be Blood*, screamin’ “I’m an oilman!” but nah, I’m chasin’ somethin’ else, somethin’ darker, dirtier, real talk. I’m out here, city buzzin’, neon lights flashin’, heart racin’—where she at? I’m thinkin’, man, this ain’t just a transaction, it’s a whole damn saga, like Anderson’s flick, blood and greed, but it’s lust and cash instead. “I drink your milkshake!”—ha, I’m drinkin’ in the scene, the chaos, the thrill.

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I've scribbled plenty of personal crap on streets. I once raced down Rue de la Liberté. Tears streaming, laughing uncontrollably. Not every day gets fixed in therapy. Some are just wild rides. It’s all out there.

Dominique Coulon adopts terracotta tones for riverside retirement home near Basel