septembre 2011

Nothing special

Par |2015-10-02T16:11:52+01:00septembre 24th, 2011|Textes|

All quiet on Indian summer night as a car rumbles by in the street outside and the dishwasher hums in the kitchen. A lot of coming and going out there; and probably a lot in here, too. Someone asked me awhile ago what I had done today. Funny, but I couldn't really say, although I [...]

Breathless like a miracle

Par |2017-04-04T06:58:17+01:00septembre 19th, 2011|Textes|

Here at my desk at this late hour. What is it now? And who? Perched before me is an image of Giacometti's sculpture L'Homme qui chavire, his Tottering Man, a thing of such wonder that I can't take my eyes off it. It's nothing special, really, just a black and white photograph, taken by Ernst [...]

Cat and mouse

Par |2017-04-04T06:58:17+01:00septembre 18th, 2011|Textes|

It's Sunday night. Already? Or again? Temperatures have fallen, with precipitation (or rain, as they say), as have the shares of French banks and financial markets everywhere. Someone is gaining, someone losing. Which is which? Or are they really just the same? The cat, meanwhile, has been in the hunt for mice these days in [...]

Do you remember?

Par |2017-04-04T06:58:17+01:00septembre 11th, 2011|Textes|

Do you remember? It was stunning: A perfect morning. Planes cruising across an impeccably blue sky and crashing into shining towers standing tall and invincible under a brilliant sun in the symbolic heart of the richest, most mighty nation on earth. Suddenly, nothing was what it had seemed to be. Suddenly, every certitude crumbled, collapsing [...]

Happy and back, mutually

Par |2015-10-02T16:15:30+01:00septembre 5th, 2011|Textes|

After all these weeks away, here I come again. Summer was deep and wide and full. I loved the sun, the sea, the moon, the trees, the forests, the darkness, the light, the heat, the chill, the cities, the highways, the rain, the thunder... There were so many beautiful meetings, with myself and others, with [...]

Aller en haut