First Name. From the old name Justina, coming from latin justus ou justinus, meaning “fair” or “reasonable”.
In 2019, by an Irish month, I posted my first fleeting thoughts. I took care of my old travels and I chronicled my personal and international journey named CHRYSALIS, as a wish sent to the Universe.
I hoped for my inner change, I prayed for my external transformation.
It did it work, it came with, to my own surprise with so much nomadism, a lot of stillness. I was not being original. It happened against my own will. Like thousands of people on this planet. They hit pause on the world, more or less drastically; and my only choice was to stop. My favorite way of researching on myself, the big search of the Unseen through the Unknown, was taken from me. I couldn’t put myself through the microscope of the macro world. Hence, I looked inside. And I enjoyed another shape of wandering. Sometimes travels come through unexpected forms. Sometimes journeys are inside.
After such a journey, I felt the need to change this writing web’s colour, I made a big announcement: I left my words fallow.
And I was the first surprised to come back so quickly (at least in French).
In the early days of 2022, I renovated my French virtual house starting with this new portrait of mine. Indeed, my inabilities to describe myself had eventually driven a wedge between this refuge and myself. I had sorrowly struggled for a while explaining who/what/where I was. I knew who/what/where I wasn’t anymore but I had no clue how to define myself according what I thought was expected from me; I therefore automatically ended telling my whole life forward and sideways only to cope with my unknown word for myself. A year ago, I found, not only one but a few, letters own to give the best resume of who I am:
Creator of inner, moving and artistic journeys
In the first hours of 2023, I add another trendy word to that definition: I am a *SLASHER*, writer *slash* traveler *slash* actress *slash* lecturer *slash* astrologer! You must admit: being a “Creator of inner, moving and artistic journeys” is way more poetic.
Then where I am in the end?
I come from Theater where I have learned to be as I wrote/lived/set other lives than mine.
I come from the Other End of the World where I touched worlds that explode you and reveal your multiple versions of yourself.
I come from the Library of Life where, eternal student of life, I learned about the history and closer territory.
I come from the Tower of Babel, lover of foreign languages, O English my Love.
I am going to go back to my old nomadic life with one home base, undefined for the moment. For ever Traveler. Frozen sometimes.
Creator of inner, moving and artistic journeys, here who I am in the end, to sparkle my 5 slash without a rhyme!
Justine
If my travels became my poetic wanderings’ essence, it’s because I love the idea of trying what I would like to call the Impressionism of writers… When the artistic current was born in the middle of the 19th century, painters tried to give their fleeting impressions, one phenomena’s mobility, instead of the stable and conceptual aspects of reality. Thus, when I draw landscapes, encounters, places of my wanderings with my words, I try to transcribe my fleeting emotion, I randomly pick words that put together are a fragment, or a whole, of what I saw, heard, felt. The stable and conceptual aspects of reality doesn’t matter. What is thrown on the white paper is only Impression misty sun. What remains invites who read and understand me to travel.
My personal definition of writing – New Ross, July 2019
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 