• 

 The idea out of time and space.

 The Spirit is what begets, transform, 
implement ideas. He is the contribution 
exterior from which we do not know where it comes from, 
and which can even come from within.

 The Real is the set of all 
"things" that exist ; he is the thing 
which contains and binds and implements all 
these things. He is the pieced kit 
and that works.

 There is no real without an idea since 
what is real must have a form : 
pure formlessness is nothingness. L'information 
is at the point of complexification of the contact 
with matter a kind of drive 
subliminal from elsewhere and which 
yet weighs. 
The Real is therefore Spirit ; the Real is a 
Mind that thinks of ideas, including the idea 
of substance by which ideas 
are incarnated in things for the particular consciousnesses which participate in this Spirit.

 Here in the photo, there are things that 
seem to exist, but who for really 
to exist, that is to say, to provide for 
outside - ex-istere - and show off, 
use the Idea, complex compound 
gathering the observer, son intention 
and the camera tool. So the scene 
takes shape with the Spirit landed by 
the active solicitation of the inventor 
visual artist. 
And that's how we can talk 
real. A real, composed of matter or 
substance or thing, of Solicit Idea 
and of the Spirit.

 From Real to Spirit there is only one step 
conducive to a change in the level of 
conscience, to stimulation of 
the reason for being there, in agreement 
not duel, to take one more step.


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  It is showing courage’face the fear when she slips into us, in our body, our emotions, our thoughts and our hearts .

We can rely on this for ourintuition the finest, one that opens up to what happens when we face challenges . It is especially good to follow it when comes the time to make choices on a daily basis .

The elements of this intuition come from a level of consciousness that is far beyond logic and reason reasoning . So it sometimes takes a lot of drive and determination to follow these tips which sometimes seem to us to go against common sense and may even seem silly .

And there, in these singular circumstances and oh how exceptional, when there is a strong contact between our global being and an exceptional environmental fact or a powerful emotion, we don't must not miss this chance to grow to oneself, using our strengths mystics that are faith and grace as much as our abilities philosophical and psychological .

This is how we can ask thegrace of fortitude to bring us the release and the constancy necessary to accomplish our task in the middle chaos and uncertainty .

We know how easy it is to let go seduced by fear and difficult to extricate herself from when she storms our thoughts and encourages us to withdraw into ourselves, around mounts illusions and false securities .

This fear is this snake which slips between the stones from the wall of our inner castle . This is how Thérèse describes it. from Ávila, who to keep from fear, implored the Most High in order to keep alert in body and alert in mind to envelop yourself in the power of grace as a protective measure of his personal castle .

” May this grace keep us down to earth, well centered in the intimacy of our thoughts nourished just as much by discernment and the lightness of openness to what is, only through relationships with others . May fear never take over my body, from my heart, of my thoughts and of my soul so that my actions are right ” .

181

 In front of the mountain
 closer
 trademark of the eye of the cyclops
 weightless sun
 under the clouds of January.

 There was a time
 sunken walks
 at random from the mirabelle plums 
 marauding memories
 twirling like dead leaves  .

 Then came the heavy passage of carts
 to unearth the Gallo-Roman flagstones
 to detect the eyes 
 over the hedge ;
 exchange rose hips.

 Thus empty
 the skins of the wind
 on the holiday set
 to nurture the hearth of a friendship
 than a flock of wild geese
 cannot steal  .


 180 

 He walks…  at the turn of the road …  under a cloudy sky …  its tall silhouette adorned with light …  him living it from between the trees of a wintry calm .

 Will I know him …  the one who came to my meet …  while without expectation I begged for silence and solitude .

He feels it …  a box of munificence …  the sweetness of what happens …  a outstretched hand …  and then the bird lands …  a feather of love .

Finally we said hello and without to return we are distant …  going to him where I came from and me going where he came from .

lives intersect …  one morning costs…  before the other is revealed …  for marveling at a collusion to our mother earth. The charm of repeated steps in crisp, sonorous crystalline concretions complete the first particle …  i am an identity, a face, a person …  I am the petal of the flower and the bee that visits me is where I go …  until the expiration .

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      In winter inside it was so mild …  joy farandole of laughter and jostling sounded the infinite lengthening of the time of childhood .

A tug …  the curtains drawn …  mattresses cushions blankets and foam squares piled up …  gigantic symposium of the physical and vocal creativities of a push first jump .

In winter the words that we throw are the hook of the cracks of memory … only remains the crumpling of gift wraps lying in a ball along the walls .

In winter there is places conducive to daily crossings for even more pleasure collide with voice and gesture the scheduling of adults .

In winter the soup is hot …  it burns the tongue and makes us blow on the contents of the spoon …  then rises the slow tides good for eating and sleeping …  in the evening when the merchant of sand will pass .

In winter no of salamalecs …  nothing but laughing eyes that the verses of the song evacuate in the rural break of a chorus known by all .

In winter we put hat and mittens to better see the sunset …  in catimini …  when the garlands of light look like fireflies at the beginning of a distant morning .

Children know that winter is sweet to those who know how to love … and that by having fun and respecting each other we weave the fabric of the days to come … traditional way of storing the ingredients needed to make the bread of tomorrow .

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