ELIOTT S'EN FOUT
Eliott doesn’t care is a phrase.
Just a phrase. Four plain words, placed here and there — on a sticker, a postcard, a wall, a suitcase, a table corner, or a mailbox.
A phrase thrown into the world like a stone in water, with a strange certainty: someone will read it.
And feel something.
Who is Eliott? Why doesn’t he care?
The project doesn’t answer. It doesn’t try to explain — it aims to gently disturb.
To provoke a pause. A smile. A question without an answer.
Shared by friends, travelers, or total strangers, the phrase circulates freely.
It slips into the everyday landscape like a polished piece of graffiti, a small poetic disruption.
Sometimes it’s photographed, sometimes ignored, sometimes it lingers in the mind all day for no clear reason.
Eliott doesn’t care is a minimalist, universal, and secret art project.
Its power lies in the tension: an intimate declaration, made public.
An encrypted message whose meaning escapes everyone.
Or rather: everyone is free to give it their own meaning. That’s where the work lives.
It’s not a slogan. Not a joke.
It’s a presence, a trace, an open question, a grain of sand in the world’s machinery.
The project demands nothing.
It simply exists.
It’s there — and Eliott doesn’t care.
