Les cordylines australes (arbres à chou) s’alignent comme de petits soldats, elles sont tellement uniques, comme si chacune développait sa propre personnalité.
…comme ce jour où est apparu sur le visage de quelqu’un d’autre un visage connu. Apparition ? Hallucination ? Prémonition ? Les histoires s’alignent, s’intègrent dans le mouvement chaotique du temps qui passe en coup de vent, en tempête de sable, ou bien lentement comme un jeune goéland qui n’a pas appris à traverser la rue.
photo: Wainui Bay, near Pohara, oystercatchers tend to be moody, seemingly very busy and impatient, a lot like human beings, it seems.
We were going somewhere, but where, we didn’t know, yet it seemed like a good idea at the time, although we did not know what was awaiting us
*posted in 2024, edited in 2026
photo : Wainui Bay, près de Pohara, ces huitriers ont tendance à être de mauvaise humeur, apparemment très occupés et impatients, on dirait des êtres humains
On allait quelque part, mais on ne savait pas où ; ça nous semblait une bonne idée d’aller par là, mais on ne savait pas ce qui nous attendait.
d’abord mis en ligne en mai 2024, révisé en 2026
photo: Pohara, Tata beach
photo: Atacama desert, Chile, an ideal place to visit oneself.
This poem was written thinking around Carl Jung, who suggested analysing our own reactions to daily irritants. I have tried this approach over the years, and it is now what I try to do most of the time, when a situation, a person, or a behaviour irritates me or puts me in a bad mood. The answers become longer and deeper the more I do it and hopefully has allowed me to better understand myself and others as well. It is why, when I look at aggressive, explosive, or hateful reactions on social medias, as well as the slightly more subtle allegedly benevolent remarks masking jealousy, regrets, envy, I tell myself that Jung’s advice could benefit many people.
We project our soul onto the words of others
We reveal our dreams and our dark reflections
When we prepare our hidden invectives
In cheap humour,
We mock those we would have wanted to be
If decency had not been taught to us
What we regret a little all the same
It would be nice
Not to have a soul
For a moment or two
