To Selene. After a heatwaved Saturday, Sunday was grey. The kind of mid-grey leaning towards white and which you wouldn’t know if it’s going to color the entire day or only a fleeting and uncertain morning. The previous day’s suffocating atmosphere had simmered down, the night’s humidity lingered; or was it only a countryside’s privilege? … More The Wanderer above the sea of fog
I almost fail this post The nothing overruling me, my inspiration is gone But then Minerve rises But then her wisdom strikes And Minerve turns into Félines I almost bury this post I now give it a new name Since Aphrodite has joined My accidental keyboard And Minerve turns into Félines … More As Minerve turns into Félines
By a summer Sunday, as France was going through the traditional waltz between juilletistes (July vacationers) and aoutiens (August vacationers), I was facing my key word of the season: LET GO OF MY COMFORT ZONE. And you can tell I didn’t skimp on the concept for two days with my visionary and altruistic cousin! She … More Pic Saint Loup to the bottom
Indeed, some were born from Jove’s thigh*, and some drew Charlemagne’s arses in stone! Odds are not always in your favor in life… As for me, being born by an autumn wind and drawing my way step by step, day by day, is a fate bringing me enough joy without me needing Jove’s thigh nor … More Charlemagne’s arse
The first time I heard about the “Prise d’Alzeau”, I immediately though about war, I thought about the Battle of Arcole (“prise” means “taken” which can be said in war context when the place is “taken” by the opponent after the battle)… It is actually way less epic, even if the obelisk raised to praise … More Alzeau’s Outlet with Peter, Paul and Riquet
Sidobre was born 285 million years ago from a molten magma produced from rocks in fusion down to 20 km depth, under a massive mountain which only remains are Central Massive, Black Mountain and Sidobre … More Chosen Pieces of Sidobre
Thus, after a seasonal break and despite a quick encounter during lazy snoozing summer days, I finally and better met the middle queen, quieter and loving ; the one who bonds mounts to waters, who meanders from Rennes Le Château to Galamus stoping by Bugarach : RENNES LES BAINS … More The quiet Rennes
It was a Tuesday like any other. Almost. My heart was panting and my dreams were floating. I couldn’t focus more than three minutes to intertwine two sentences. That Tuesday, I didn’t want to write. Was Mars fooling with me in that dedicated day? Or was it a random day – like today in fact … More Watching through…
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
Fleeting Wor(l)ds 