I’m always sorry when someone closes a door.
I don’t know if it’s for the noise it makes or the silence it leaves.
I was at a poetry reading.
And a big smiling woman jump on the stage. It was her turn. She started to read. After 4 great poems she stopped. Started trembling. It was not her whole body, nor her hands. It was the bone of her arm. The nerves. She removed gently her red glasses, touched her hair. She whisper in the microphone “I’m sorry. My daughter died one year ago.”
I started to look at this woman in an other way. And asking myself how it can be to be her.
How it can be to lose the only thing you’d created and educated in life.
No answer in my mind, but it must be like a bone trembling under skin.
I’d like to thank all the people who are following this blog.
I’m a beginner. And a disorder,
I’ll be inconsistent several times, sorry.
I’ll mistake every time, sorry again, English is my fourth language.
I’m just trying to find a comfortable place in this huge cluster of countries, between all these faces. Don’t want to be mean nor hurt anybody, I’m trying to change, a new time, a new skin, a snake.
I don’t know anything about life,
But I’m experimenting a lot, and perhaps it’s time to share my ideas,
and to learn from yours.
I traveled more than 50 countries, spoke with thousands people, but the more I know, the less I know. The more I see, the less I’ve seen. The world became my drug, all its beauty, all its identities, and all the bodies walking on it…
An explosion of curiosity.
too big to keep for me.
So I write.
“The beginners” is a blog open to you, if you want to share your view of life with me.
If you just want to listen at my …ideas. If you’re lost. If you’re a writer. If you’re a traveler, a photographer. If you’re young. If you’re a mess. If and if again.
BUT YOU MUST BE A BEGINNER. NO JUDGES. NO PRETENDING. NO ABSOLUTE TRUTH.
This is our hidden place. Where to learn. But afar from all those PROFESSORS.
We’re simple guys
a cigaret burning in one hand
baited nails in the other.
We’re just screams and hope, and hard core, and old school.
A new dream each morning.
A beer and music and friend: enough. we’re happy.
Stay afar with your 8-hours-a-day jobs,
your nice tie,
your glass of white wine.
All running to the office,
to the bank, to your son’s school, to yoga classes, to wax your legs, to to to to.
Happy faces and
uncombed hair after sex .
Let us believe we can be like that,
and be that forever.