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photo : coming back from Wharariki beach, a WestCoast feeling
sandy beaches, tides !
For most of my life, my body and mind have led parallel lives: it was my mind that led the game (no, I don’t have to sleep all these hours, I’m tired but it doesn’t matter, of course I can do a little more, etc.). I had warning signs that I dismissed out of hand, until one day my body had enough. We have since been trying to live together, the symbiosis is not always easy but when it happens, I wonder why I thought I could neglect such a big part of myself (and yes, we can have quite a bit of fun together).
Photo: Marahau (Windy Gardens), at high tide, this marsh is submerged. At low tide, a small stream of water makes its way through the wild grass to reach the mother.
When I saw this stream of water winding its way through the weeds, I immediately thought to myself that it looked like my life, which has never followed a straight line, has often been submerged, but has continued its way always looking at the sea.
I bought these three notebooks in the charity shops of Nelson. The smallest one is always in my bag. It is ideal for travel. It’s got everything in it: airbnb instructions, phone numbers, flight numbers, and poetry. The second is mostly used for poetry, interrupted by notes, new authors to explore, library references. The biggest one is my diary. I called it « The Shadow Diary. » I write frantically during some time and then nothing for weeks or months.
The conversation between my body and mind is often confrontational (more exercise, less exercise, more rest or more work, more reading, etc.) but, in general, I find it easy to agree with one or the other. For some time now, however, I have had more difficulty knowing which of the two should prevail and I wonder if these two will ever be able to agree and let me get on with my life. It should not be that difficult, though, the kereru at the botanical garden seems to know without even asking itself.
I feel an intense emotion each time I see a public bench dedicated to someone who does not use it anymore. What a wonderful way to honour someone’s memory.
*inspired by Edouard Levé
My poetic journey through words and image/ Mon journal poetique a travers les mots et les images
