Going somewhereAnywhereWriting some travel memories to explore a bit longer a bit further as if I was in 2019 in my Alaskan car gazed by American Plaines’ white moonWriting some travel memories into a novelBut the wagon bouncesBut the wagon is sickAnd so are my wordsMy unreal imagination then hangsMy unreal imagination then dreams on … More Fleeting thoughts
It is only fair that after sketching a little piece of French Alps, I went for some reunions with my own natal mountains, French Pyrénées, and this, in such good company since this short journey was the occasion for some time spent with my dad.We had chosen, as starting point for our improvised divagations, Fontagente Ponds … More An escape to French Pyrénées
And GALAMUS, this alien name strangely sounding Indian; and GALAMUS, this rocky and unbelievable being, cut by the Eagle River, sculpted by ages, hid unspoken secrets when I came, blended in hundreds of swimmers trying to escape heat waves in between those white and immortal rocks. But GALAMUS has so many immemorial stories to tell, I will invent some for you here … More Galamus’ secret
I left my adopted Cathars for three days and three nights in order to breath some fresh air and visit my favorite Savoy Healer! The Triplets of Belleville missed a third wheel to their tandem but what a beautiful mountain! I got a shot of French Alps in about 2 shakes of a lamb’s tail, … More A Detour to French Alps
It is quite normal to start my esoteric and telluric Aude rubric with the queen of mysteries, with the hazier of all and share my escape to RENNES LE CHÂTEAU, high mystical place of the area! … More The mysterious Rennes
By a warm Sunday of July, I wished – led by my favorite Cathar guide tour and his brunette princess – to reconnect to my beloved travelling sensations by exploring the nearby unknown. I decided nothing, I was held by the country Wise Man’s wisdom, so prone to share his land with me. And for … More Minerve
They called me Mousseigne like you would write a poem.
They called me Mousseigne but I was only bohemia.
They wanted me to believe I was leading the way through blossoming grapes ranges. They wanted me to believe I was the mistress of this tidy vine whose fruit filling up my balloon glass for unforgettable nights was the only thing I had ever known. They wanted me, and after all was it a crime, to dream of other times. … More Summer Bacchanals
Silence. Emptiness. Gone. Then they are gone. And I stay. It has been such a long time since I have been the one staying. Silence. Emptiness. Melancholia. Oh, this weight on my stomach, I know it so well. It reminds me of other departures, of other absences. It is so hard to be the one … More Frozen Wanderer: DAY 0
Hopes DAY 46 Yesterday, I hit the road beyond authorized fields. Almost. I had to empty my storage box, where I pilled up all my treasures before my grand journey almost a year ago. I took them all from the box to a car or a truck, and from the car or the truck to a garage … More Frozen Wanderer: Week 7-8
Insurrection DAY 29 Yesterday, “Big Macron” talked, awaking bitterness in my heart, lighting up my anger and each bomb with which I would like to blow up the system. But he mostly heightened my fears, fear nothing will ever change after, fear we’ll go back to the world of before because we have fallen asleep … More Frozen Wanderer: Week 5-6
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 