Quand ton selfie coûte 200'000 $

@Freud a écrit:
Mais quelle conne elle aurait pu faire les 4 rangées du coup

Inside a serene space, singular objects rest on plinths: these are crowns, or at least some semblance of what a crown might be, presented as precious trophies or boons. Some are classic in form, intricately crafted while others are very simple in design, as though rendered from a child’s drawing. Others have more elaborate forms: alien, hybrid, they are at times even contorted into inhibiting devices, somewhere between a crown and a mask. Some are fashioned of precious materials like gold or silver, some of marble; others of more humble material like wood, nylon, scrap metal, or dried herbs and flowers. These are variously imagined forms of the goods of desire that we journeyers hope to gain, the boon that awaits us when we have come through the battle. Flanking the crown room is a small, intimate space, inhabited by a collection of actual meteorite stones, modest in appearance but holding within them the secrets of the universe.