“Then he struck a match to light his cigarette, but the wind blew it out”
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I have a map of the USA on my bathroom wall. I like to wander over around when I brush my teeth. I keep being amazed by the size of the country – I discover names of roads, parks, cities. Joplin, Tulsa, Holton, Salina, Wichita, Overland Park, Oldredge! I dream to be on Road 35 with a car, a camera and 2 months free.
Also, I notice these strange grey fields : the indian reservations. When you live in Europa, it’s a bit mysterious! We only have a few images of Indians in head, mostly from movies.
So I found “Potawatomi“, thus I googled.
“Upper Mississipi River”
I really should try to know more. Maybe find a documentary, a book? I googled it. I should Instagram, maybe. Try to find a penpal…
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This morning I remembered that my country was called “La Gaule” before the Romans invaded all of it 2000 years ago. They occupied it for 500 years until defeated by the Francs. We became La France, but in the process we lost our tongue, our language, le gaulois has been replaced by le français. French language is very similar to Italian, because we made it from Latin from Roman Empire.
If Romans would not have been defeated, we would be maybe now like US’s Indian Tribes : in reservations, grey squares on a few % of the map France, talking Gaulois and organizing Casinos and other trails.
Dang, we lost our language, though. Don’t be surprised if French is a mess to learn now!
Heeyyy maybe a tribe will attack America after 500 years of occupation, like here, and the USAns will go back to the old continent, the Indian natives will get back their country, but they will keep English to talk (with Mexicans). OK, that’s a strange mess, and a good novel to write. Please serve yourself 🙂
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“…to have had a mature man to break it down”
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I have a theory that if you live a long time under pressure (with religious or big-political parents for example), you accumulate a huge amount of… something. A steam that will eventually explode one day into bursts of nonsense and madness.
Tamed for some time by iron reason and logic, one’s brain looks like a white hot furnace/cooker, up in an ivory tower. Then beware…
- Violence.
- Inappropriate acts.
- Madness.
- Loss of common sense.
The young years, clamped in a vise, created monsters. A poopy bustling…
Ain’t it splendid that in UK, vice means two things? A clamp tool and a wrong mind.
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Picture this : puffing and crimson nurses running after a fool…
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Bernstein‘s book : “Findings”.
Preface : talking about words and music, “I find the same joys of ambiguity, structural surprises, anagrammatic play and grace of phrasing in both”.
Well, I smiled. This could be a program for my blog! Ambiguity in three other books I just bought : Sud (photos, but no legends : you don’t know where it’s taken). In Tissot (classical painting, but the rich ladies are lost and bored). In Jones (who was a man, and a woman).
Structural surprises? Strange quotes coming from nowhere? Nonsensical titles? Yes I play. It’s funny.
I probably wish my Chronicles to be heard… as if you were listening to a fool, haunted by something, having a conversation with himself about seeds & ideas…
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Time’s winged chariot…
Thanks for reading!
a french toolbox 