Climb to the Stars

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Cats Quotes

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6 Reasons to Start Coworking

Je me languis de toi

2008-11-12T15:26:46Z

Je me languis de toi. On a beau parler, c’est ta chaleur qui me manque.

C’en est trop. Je saute dans le premier avion.

Tu ne sembles pas ravie de ma venue, mais je fais semblant de rien.

Dix ans plus tard, mourant, je t’écris une lettre qui expliquera tout.

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Adoption

2008-11-12T15:26:15Z

That same day, she adopted a small black cocker spaniel and a four-year-old. Back home, dread seized her: nothing to feed them, no bed for the boy. Unprepared.

She’d been impulsive, and regretted that the adoption process didn’t protect her better from herself.

They lived happily ever after.

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Busy Busy Busy

2008-11-12T15:25:50Z

[fr]

Ma vie, cette course.

[en]

Two whole days is not enough. It’s the first day, and the last day, and nothing in between. Arrival and departure days do not count.

Next time I come up here, I’ll take a longer break.

I haven’t walked much — the weather isn’t really inviting, and my free access card which lets me use public transport freely in the area is not valid in November. December, hopefully, will be more exciting: some snow, maybe. I’ll be back just before Christmas.

I realised that I haven’t uploaded the photographs of my last trip here. To say the truth, I’ve been horribly busy. Way too horribly busy. At times it seems that I spend my months and years saying that: “I’m busy”. Busy, busy, busy. I always have tons of things to do, and if I don’t, I invent more. I long for a few weeks of leisurely time — India is great for that.

Money is an issue. As a freelancer, I can take time off whenever I want, as long as I can afford it. These days, I can’t say it’s really the case. On the other hand, maybe it’s worth examining how much paid work I actually accomplish each week over the month. It might help me get organised better.

It’s always the same problem: busy, busy, busy, I keep “working” but a lot of it is not directly earning me anything. And often this “work” is not very visible (read Suw’s great article on the nature of work in a knowledge economy), which leaves me with a sense of frustration at the end of it all.

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Chalet, lecture, écriture

2008-11-12T15:23:57Z

[en]

A couple of days at the chalet, reading and writing.

[fr]

Le chalet en novembre se traduit en volets fermés pour emprisonner la chaleur, en feux de cheminée et tas de feuilles mortes et d’aiguilles de mélèze dans le jardin. Moins d’excursions (il fait froid et gris et la carte “libre accès” n’est plus valable) et plus de lecture — et d’écriture.

J’ai fini “Sepulchre” (Kate Mosse). C’était peut-être l’heure tardive, mais le dernier quart de ce livre m’a fait pleurer toutes les larmes de mon corps. J’ai entamé “Voyage en Acratie” de Bernard Krummenacher, une surprise agréable. Très vite, je me suis laissée prendre par ce récit un peu décalé d’exploration de notre futur.

Hier soir, j’ai également pondu un certain nombre de ces fameuses histoires en cinquante mots. Quelques-unes en français. Je me rends compte en faisant l’exercice que si peindre une situation de départ ou une complication ne me pose que très peu de problème, c’est toujours la fameuse fin qui me résiste. Le dénouement. La destination. Où va l’histoire? Où va la vie? Quel est le but?

Reflet pour moi de ma difficulté à trouver du sens, une finalité, dans le monde autour de moi.

J’y travaille.

Lire le roman de Bernard (que je connais) renforce encore mon envie et ma détermination de moi aussi, un jour, écrire un livre de fiction. Construire une histoire. Habiller des personnages. Inventer des situations. Faire la scénariste, et aussi la peintre.

Alors je continue avec mes histoires de cinquante mots. C’est peu, mais c’est ça le but: l’exercice est court, on peut le répéter à l’envi.

Et bientôt, une kyrielle de fins débarquera dans ma tête. J’en saisirai une et je passerai à l’étape suivante. Plus ambitieuse.

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Novembre

2008-11-12T15:22:46Z

[en]

Novembre. Another year comes to a close.

[fr]

Novembre. L’année 2008 touche bientôt à sa fin. Comme chaque fin d’année, je n’en reviens pas. Le printemps semble si proche. Je n’ai pas vu passer l’été. Inexorablement, les semaines et les mois défilent, l’hiver arrive, et les chiffres si familiers du calendrier changent à tout jamais.

Jamais plus 2008. Une année de l’histoire. Une année de mon histoire. Une année comme tant d’autres, unique mais justement banale par son unicité.

Quand bien d’autres années semblables et différentes de ma vie auront passé, je me souviendrai de 2008, des espoirs, des joies, des chagrins, du chat au chalet et de mon ordinateur rose.

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Pierre et Alexandre sont en vacances

2008-11-12T15:21:37Z

Pierre et Alexandre sont en vacances au bord de la mer. Une femme se noie sous leurs yeux. Le mari semble louche, et la police n’est pas intéressée. Julie, la domestique, se confie à eux. Ils confondent le mari et dénoncent les flics verreux. Après les vacances, retour au boulot!

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Le feu brûle dans la cheminée

2008-11-12T15:21:03Z

Le feu brûle dans la cheminée, mais personne n’est là. Dans le silence de la montagne, le chalet d’en face est vide aussi. Il y a de l’eau sur le feu.

C’était un coup monté de main de maître. Durand réussit pourtant à retrouver tous les membres de la secte.

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She followed her lover to a strange land

2008-11-12T15:20:22Z

She followed her lover to a strange land where she could neither study nor work. She had no friends, no life, save him.

He left her for another woman. Alone with her lost years and shattered dreams, she died in my arms under a bridge on a cold winter’s night.

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She had learned to live with the pain

2008-11-12T15:19:50Z

She had learned to live with the pain. But when an experimental cure came out, she signed up. It led her into the dirty world of drug testing, doctored results, side-effects and failures that would wake you screaming in the night. She exposed them all and died in peace.

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People all knew each other in the village

2008-11-12T15:19:14Z

People all knew each other in the village. Visitors were welcomed with a smile, but new residents were eyed with suspicion. It took Richard years to become one of them. Then his dirty secret came out and the whole community collapsed. Richard was finally murdered, but the damage was done.

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This is a tale which should never

2008-11-12T15:18:33Z

This is a tale which should never have been told. It lies between those that are told, in the spaces of life where nothing deserving a story ever happens. It will be told though, because the fabric of life is the ordinary rather than the extraordinary. Sometimes, the ordinary surprises.

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Megan left John for Steve

2008-11-12T15:18:07Z

Megan left John for Steve. Steve left Megan for Judy. Judy left Steve for Robert. Robert left Judy for Nicole. Nicole left Robert for John.

Five broken hearts all in a row.

Thirty years later, three of their children piece the stories together. They discover and destroy the cursed book.

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A story needs an ending

2008-11-12T15:17:35Z

A story needs an ending. Endings can be good or bad, the writer thinks. The best are both or neither.

One day, it comes to her: the perfect ending.

She spends the next ten years writing the story that leads to it.

It’s a huge success. But she’s already dead.

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As a teenager, she wonders when

2008-11-12T15:17:01Z

As a teenager, she wonders when she’ll get to kiss a boy. She spends her twenties and thirties watching years and lovers go by, but still no children. Her forties taste of sadness and regrets, opportunities lost and growing solitude. She heads for the mountains to forget about the world.

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We found a lab under the cathedral

2008-11-12T15:16:24Z

We found a lab under the cathedral. Pretty old — 70 or 80 years maybe. Old, but way too modern for its time. My investigation led me to discover 200 years of secret research carried out by Lausanne University faculty members, generation after generation. Far too dangerous. They were shut down.

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2008-11-09T00:00:00-06:00

The English Patient (1996)
Finally watched it.

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PrimePress Theme for WordPress

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PR 2.0: Where the Streets Have Names: Learning from Bono's Facebook Dilemma