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Chercher un dieu qui ignorerait l’existence des hommes. La terre du ciel est la plus belle. Heures retranchées à compter les nuages disparus. Les réincarnations peuplent l’enfer.
Dépassé, la probabilité d’une surprise passe de très faible à nulle….tout reste improbable…le temps est pris, le temps traîne, l’affaire est lâchée, le temps, cher payé ne compte plus, trop vite disparu.
Derrière les écrans colorés un nouveau type d’ennui est créé tout en gris sur des lumières partout où impossible de voir. Mondes engendrés que les générations ont à charge de creuser, de remonter. Creuser profondément de quoi monter un château de sable, à quoi s’accrocher, avant de glisser, s’engouffrer.

Du filet

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« La raison de la nasse se trouve dans le poisson, quand on a pris le poisson, on oublie la nasse ; la raison du lacet se trouve dans le lièvre, quand on a pris le lièvre, on oublie le lacet. La raison de la parole se trouve dans le sens à exprimer, quand ce sens est atteint, on oublie la parole, et les mots. Où trouverai-je quelqu’un qui oublie la parole et les mots pour dialoguer avec lui ? » Tchouang tseu,chap. 26, trad. revue par F. Jullien.

Anatomy of Portland Streets

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American cities all but lost their street life in the last decades of the twentieth century; anybody walking around downtown Philadelphia or Boston or Chicago after five in the afternoon found the streets deserted and dangerous. Today, in various forms, street life is returning. One can walk down Michigan Avenue in Chicago or Walnut Street in Philadelphia long after dark and find the place throbbing with activity and nearly always safe. American cities today are experiencing a renaissance of street life, returning to the dynamics of Europe’s early-twentieth-century cultural epicenters.

Maine Coastal Stones

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Learning to read the storylines of Earth’s history directly from rocks can help to provide a feeling of embeddedness in the cosmos, a sense of continuity and kinship with past and future. Perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of geologic thinking is the practice of roaming freely across many scales in space and time. In doing so, we can see ourselves in miniature, part of a long lineage of creatures on a creative planet that has renewed itself for more than four billion years while keeping an idiosyncratic diary of its activities over time in the form of rocks. Rocks assure us that the past is no less real than the present.

La Saxifrage

Frontières invisibles celles que des oiseaux perdus bordent, figés .

Pour éclore de la roche la saxifrage se hisse à la pointe des feuilles, voix sans langue où rumine le futur, où les frontières verticales prospèrent .

Sous la saxifrage éclosent des plantes qui éclairent le ciel, éblouissent le brouillard.

Des conseils cryptiques variés sortent de la bouche d’animaux morts, comme fleurir dans la caillasse .

Des labyrinthes voués à perdre les corps, des  liens qui essaiment.

De l’inconscient comme pont qu’en parasite le langage traverse.

Becoming the ocean

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It is said that before entering the sea

a river trembles with fear.

She looks back at the path she has traveled,

from the peaks of the mountains,

the long winding road crossing forests and villages.

And in front of her,

she sees an ocean so vast,

that to enter

there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.

But there is no other way.

The river can not go back.

Nobody can go back.

To go back is impossible in existence.

The river needs to take the risk

of entering the ocean

because only then will fear disappear,

because that’s where the river will know

it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,

but of becoming the ocean.

~ Khalil Gibran

few things I’ve learned recently

A few things I’ve learned recently and I want to share them with you :

-That there are doors in forms of people, words, stories, eyes, those perfect chords within that perfect piece of music that strike in a prompt second of “yes.” Doors everywhere opening into other sides that cannot be reached, unless you step up, and open them. Doors as openings into new worlds within this lifetime.

-Nothing lasts. But it doesn’t really end either.

-You need to write while the fire burns hot. Not after.

-If you have to convince yourself of something, the (right) answer is likely the opposite, and yes, this of course means the best direction will not usually be easy or logical or part of the original plan. Do the more difficult, more primal, more beautifully terrifying thing.

-Meaning and purpose don’t come in the forms of great accomplishments or undertakings. Rather, they reveal themselves on some randomly idle weekday morning when you realize how much you love someone or that you’re doing all you can with what you can carry in the place you are with the time you have with what you care about.

-Laughter and hope are often the same.

-Aloneness won’t necessarily equate to freedom.

-You need to lose yourself sometimes or often. Losing yourself provides mirrors where you can see it all clear afterward, true as it’s ever been and etched in fine detail across fog-free glass.

-How do you begin anything? From exactly where you are. With simply this breath.

-That you should (always) gaze up at the seas of stars opening our nights and remember again and again that you’re in an awesomely vast and wild universe where nearly anything can happen, and at any given time.

Les ailes de l’instant

« Ne laisse pas le passé blesser de son poids mort les ailes de l’instant, ne déchire pas le pacte de sa page blanche,ne renie pas son envol même si un ange devait forcer ton passage vers le rêve aboli, ne laisse pas le passé briser de son poids neutre les chances de l’instant, ne déchire pas le pacte de son élan vivant ne détourne pas son envol même si un ange devait empêcher son passage vers le pays oublié ». Alain Suied