Décrocher la lune
Exploring the stranger within ourselves
Wednesday September 25th 11:22 We stepped in the new year with the necessary idea of redemption, forgiveness to ourselves. Between the dishes and honey sweetness, the idea of getting together and the ferocity of this return in oneself to seek for good and bad, of better maybe. A first ambivalence of the self and the other, inside and outside. I grope with joy, I put down the elements of reflection as the worker controls his tools before setting to work. I bring order, I count and welcome.
September 25 still at 23:31, and if the density of this new moon, the black or red moon was due to the infinite of possibilities, the whole of the living and the future. The rarities of the past await the dice of chance, of necessity, of the moment for one or more to emerge. I often wonder as Emma said, if we were present before we were born, in rows awaiting our turn of luck. Is this infinity what twists something in me, forgetting the breath, drowning in activity what must be an impetus?
September 27th 11:22. In this full of future and possible’s, there is also the emptiness of separation, there are the good-bye, the loss, there are the questions on what we would like bur won’t be able to, adjustment because the question was raised. There is the Infinity and the void, the reality and the dream, the possible and the real.
September 28th, 16:35. Anger everywhere around me, in the streets, people pointing out, ignoring the others, bumping for the air the space, without looking, through, alone with angry. As the air here, angry, the weather hot and humid, the crowds moving around like in packs, anger of anonymity, anger and my fear not to exist, vanity to wish to be one. My own anger, mirror of the street, the street reflecting me without letting pass. The detour to follow my path, the compromises, the feeling of transparency and inanity of my being, my say, when some, better that I do write it of even better live it. My poor words, my attempts to order my chaos. This black moon hiding me, is probably the one picturing me the best, nonexistent and full of possible, black, sad and in gestation. I try to keep in the limits of the time, unable to be satisfy. Suddenly skipping a line and being visible for an instant.
Lundi 29 septembre 19:30, Doucement comme le bourgeon tend hors du tronc la lune se découvre. Ambivalence de l’équinoxe d’automne qui sonne le raccourcissement des jours commencé trois mois auparavant, mais maintenant perceptible. Et cette lune qui me plonge en cet instant dans le renouveau. Croisement de sensations, des rythmes et des émotions. Parfaite image de nos vies dont les instants se superposent et se croisent. Vivre et mourir simultanément en des endroits (plans) différents de nos vies en un même instant. Aujourd’hui que le soleil révèle 27% la lune, je renais.
Aujourd’hui 30 septembre 19:00, la lune à émergé dense et bleue, légère et rouge,. Et aussi légère et bleue et vide et blanche. J’ai cherché en moi la renaissance la résonance de ce que mes doigts mettaient en place. Sursaut après sursaut fixant pour le futur. De doute en doute quelque chose se construit, peu à peu, puis se refuse lorsque j’insiste pour en finir. Ma nuque est raide, je résiste je crois.
1er octobre 17:30, sans cesse j’oublie, tenter de me souvenir est si difficile que je réapprends de zéro. J’avais perdu le souffle. Ce matin, lentement j’ai reposé les pieds au sol, retrouvant la lenteur qui me soigne. Ce matin j’ai observé la lune de la terre : en moi.
Histoire née d’une collaboration enrichissante en 4 modalités avec Anne Mourier et Sheba Remy Kharbanda