Somewhere between a diary and notes, between the wonder of the ordinary and the disillusionment of a world that eludes us, these are daily lines collected in the moment, a kind of silky, abrasive little diary. Time is present, always there to be grasped, made its own, seized. There are never any great adventures, and these are stories of nothing, simple as are the stories that force the imagination. Whether it?s an ordinary session at the local hairdresser?s, a trip across the marshes in the relentless rain, a rag teddy stranded on the dyke, the icy winter plain covered in snow, from which the images of an alphabet book read in the past tense are reborn, or the sea that always kneads and rolls thoughts, and in the horizontal sun the golden smile of the ferry as it sails away. At our fingertips, at our gaze, at our breath, the universe may seem small, but it is nonetheless enormous, and we can easily find ourselves in these little nothings experienced day by day, a kind of journey to the doorstep in a reality where thoughts and contemplation mingle. Small islands of intimate territory, where we can stop, breathe differently, nourish and quench our thirst. E.L.
Éric Louviot & Cristal Bachet ? Texts and reading
Karinn Helbert ? Piano
Manuel Decocq ? Violin, guitar, duduk
