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Valérie Villeu, by his profession of liberal nurse, went some years ago to Mrs D. to bring her care. Mrs D. lived alone and was affected by the Alzheimer's disease. The neglected state in which was its apartment made strangely echo to her mental state : tuck of lacks, breaks, holes.
Every room, every object had undergone the damages of its solitary drift: muddled, hoarse, damaged, incomplete, they spoke nevertheless in a intimate way, of the fact that had of the being this person, its taste for the decoration, the sewing.
" One day, afternoon had to be the enactment of a reception, you had prepared four under cups with Russian cigarettes and square of chocolate. What ghost had visited you? For whom was intended this feast? The vision of these preparations had upset me, I saw there there the amusement of a child playing the tea party, but a child believing in a game that it would not leave. |
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The repetition of movements certainly one thousand times accomplished but intended for another world. " Valérie Villieu, 2005.
During his visits at Mrs D., Valérie Villieu finds, propping up a door, buried in his clothes, 7 small diaries, which made her go through 34 years of her life. Nothing of profoundly close friend, only notes on clothes to be got back in the steam-pressing, singers' names which she had to like, measures to realize her works of sewing.
And then in the course of diaries, the information rarefies, the writing becomes clumsy and notes show the appearance of the confusions of the memory. The solitude is there extreme, the will to hang on to the perceptible reality. The reading of all these notebooks convinced the photographer to bring to light the story of this woman, the suffering which this disease generates.
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In a purpose parallel also to communicate on the care of these persons, so that it is more human, better adapted, and always to the listening of the individual.
" I often think that we maintain you, naturally you eat, naturally you are clean, and then? Is it enough for a life? The television seems to reassure a lot of nursing and auxiliary of life who visit the old persons. You don't escape the television, sometimes violent series in front of which I find you, perturbed, invaded by what the screen imposes you.
Do any people you the leash at night think that it could be a remedy in the space, or is it the solitude which we leave behind us by closing your door and which they do not support? Of that to think of it looking surprised giving you to eat with a helmet on ears? " Valérie Villieu, 2005. |
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