To travel freely I was allowed to enter through the hole of origins see the animal with remarkable power riderless and indomitable under the mists revealing as the day rises the matriarchal breath of the tall beeches. Twice I turned around and find the way back at the passage of the ondine to drive the cedar plank into the ground. I intoned the song of souls the shells open to speech bubbles and danced feet feeling on the ground the birds with their wings weaving a crown on the water with rippling bubbles that the bridge of realities encumbered before waving the goodbye handkerchief. 422
Blossoming of benevolence What are the pitfalls worth In front of Beauty Under the wind Pass Foreign Notes Le palanquin des jours sans fin. Offer Memories The trampling of the crowd At the entrance to the holy places May the wreath gather In the dance of the spirits Que notre main désigne. God That the universe is big That we bathe in a primordial world Outside dogma In this activity that directs us Rediscovering union with the Whole Et sa caresse d'Etre. To play With our code To promote a return to the source In energy of consciousness Away from temporalities. To afford To the rain of particles At the gates of perception. Voyager Without fear and without taboos On the steps of the palaces. Allow yourself to put your finger On the Invisible Without denying the Truth This presence this transparency Where the Absolute stands out. Request To defragment our thoughts and our ways of being To participate in the Eaux Vives dialogue C'est ça le plus important. Without abruptness A measure of the sweet and the cordial Listening Fine and superb To do work In full use of oneself Puis repartir.
I mowed the grass with invasive daisies avoiding bellflowers near the almond tree then there was the cherry tree apple trees the lilacs and wisteria, to avoid. spring blossoming of the principle of love dazzling in its appearance secretive in his dispositions with leaf growth adornment corbelling the months to come. I walked in the dewy grass sketched some qi qong movements inspected the jars, sinks and tubs flowers and shrubs nos respirs. Then, sitting on the wooden chair I dived into wandering in living stillness hands clapping memories arise of our cross gardens in this life of mine to contemplate the drape of the coming days, decoction of the cosmos, our father.
No one is hostile when the cry of the night rises adjusted movement in the pancake of fascinations. Are adorned with a thousand lights heart of angels and his cupbearer, l'Inaugural at harvest time. Exhausted and vindictive the Sacred by the fireplace the Secret by human speech All went up to say goodbye to our mother. Weary before plunder to swallow in secret commissions the ambiguities of the massacre animals in their entrails. Would we be too many before the clearing of Being to give up our place in the clarity of the ether ?
Escaped over the hill divine and slanderous Mélusine this nuptial encounter evoked on a morning of meditating thought. Dwelling on the deployment of origins in the sense of the sense that the shepherd paginates the goat of Parnassus half-naked displayed the eternal oblivion of being. Silent flame on board the Analogue ephemeral word promise faithful to its call from inside the path was climbed. In the azure of destiny by the dawning clarity soul on pilgrimage roamed the countryside. Homeland of Whispering Showers haven of our wandering hearts the sepias of childhood deposited the find. Shot arranged in a fan so many of you asked for the body that the rumor swelled of a supposedly humble reconstruction. 418
Words of clicks and slaps sign the sky of tinsel garbage. Wanderings are legitimized by sleazy propaganda. Air attacks water the night the whistle of bombs. Turned Graves flower the cracks of the spirit. There is no hope except the little poetic hand nailed to the barn door. even insects commit suicide on abandoned beaches. In the morning the ground will be covered with gall. Sustained posturing of beings devoid of love. death is here, brassy owner of the apocalyptic cymbals. The tree erects its skeleton on the suffocated plains.
Manon is a young lunar woman Whose soul goes at the speed of light She's happily uninhibited Sans mental Without judgement His relationship to the world is a fact of nature Sa maturité artistique relève de la pure nécessitéHow she feels what she lives In the moment Its values are foreign to what is done Its Truth is that of the moment A sensitivity in direct contact with the gesture She's irrational in a continuous flow She is the Fundamentally Just Principle That of the human which is to extract himself from the animal It's not Manon who leads the painting It is the painting that is done through it.
( work of Manon VICHY )
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She painted at night on a white canvas building his kingdom invisible touchesto the vertebrae of his tree. Slow and fluid drips of the mind offered their sugars in the vertigo of dreams between the air and the world.The wind picked up the beast came on the sly under the lantern give the password potting soil for pure soil. The silky muzzle of blue charrette made the moment tremble marked with a flame than the hyphenated eye dance under the stars. 415
At the height of perishable things the piano becomes a trumpet on the curls of her hair crossed looks to the face with the winged rays. Support language like a moth flow the notes to the room of romances so that he remembers. The arms revealed on this black dress go through life on the canvas of fluttes agasses the song suddenly springs up on the table of torments.
Let's not despise in the shade of the tamarisk so blinded by light I hurt you escapes the cry of a link to be reborn. 414
high clock rising sap, on the slabs the walk break the breath of the beast. The brothers gather under their homespun hoods near the baptistery, refuge of the chrisms. Suppliantes, souls flutter between the pillars of the nave buzzing bees in twilight the night soon of silence presents. Ancestors will be honored broken bread on the propitiatory slabs sighing worlds. On the floor living light granted to those of others she stays there when nothing is left. 413