AGrey Clown Gris goes his way on a sweet repetitive music.

Arrived on the place of representation, the GioM defines with precision its space of play putting strings on the ground.

 

Plunged in its melancholy, its walk is suspended in precarious balances… He s' taking off on the music, hes' get mixed up with its rubber bands.

The magic slips between wire of  the diabolos and the yoyos which seem s' to immobilize in a perpetual motion.

 

He use his carbon mast with 2 long elastics which will allow him to execute  its poetic act, its sharing of emotions.

Before setting out again on its diagonal, he offers the last smile to the public.

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