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From Glasgow to Balmoral, I followed a challenging route through an untamed Scotland.
A visual road trip where Rangers, Tennent's, Trainspotting, punk and sweets meet crowns, tartans and history.
In the center, her.
The Queen. Relaxed, smiling, a square of silk tied on her head — the one she wore on hunts in the Highlands.
No tiara: just a scarf and a half-smile.
Not the Queen of pomp, but the intimate, almost ordinary one.
Chaos reigned around… her.
Fragments of identity brush against each other without ever meeting.
In the background, the acronym ER2: Elizabeth Regina, the Second.
No longer a signature, but a brand infiltrated into a broken flag, a forced union between Saltire and the Union Jack.
A sense of belonging, yes — never peaceful.
A painting, a bittersweet collision:
Urban Scotland shouts, monarchist Scotland remains silent.
And between the two, a Queen.
Calm. Wearing a headscarf.
As if she were passing through the turmoil untouched.
Mister Marcus is a French visual artist from the Paris region. His eye was trained on Jamie Reid's punk posters, Jano and Margerin's rock comics, and imported vinyl covers. He composes his paintings as one constructs a piece: with tension, rhythm, and visual ruptures. His square—a recurring motif—acts like a riff, a memory cell, or a pixel of chaos. Everything is handmade. What looks like collage is acrylic. What seems accidental is thought out. His works tell fragmented visual stories, somewhere between personal memory and collective icons.