I like my river of fire. – Zadie Smith, NW
He was watching a magnificently clear starry sky, in the pitch dark of a hill at the end of the … More
… the one thing nobody can take away from you is the freedom to fuck up your life whatever way you … More
And if I unravel spread my wings like petals of a tangled rose you may say I’m acting heading for … More
I don’t want to follow you blindly follow my path with eyes wide shut as if it was only a … More
Loneliness never felt to me like something experienced at certain moments of aloneness or crowdedness, no matter, it is fundamentally … More
Lyon, France. In the density of city streets the air thickens between the walls of too-close-by houses, walls that cannot … More
Sometimes, I feel spring wakes up our soul with its desires and dreams, gets us going joyfully again in that … More
Live tall, in all due respect to others and yourself.
At Institut Culturel Bernard Magrez, Bordeaux.
I had a dream a few weeks ago that I was dying. My mom leaning over me, saying I had … More
There’s nothing saying new horizons better than superb views, especially those including water or the higher bird-like eye. It inevitably … More
The cut between the summer holidays and working autumn that has now transformed into a chilling winter seems more brutal than the one during school years when the classes and the tests began.
I’m done, I’m over responding with hatred and anger and scorn and fear and cynicism, I’m just done. I choose love, even when that means silence, even when that doesn’t necessarily mean hope.
I’m far more on the non-aggressive side, I’d maybe even call myself a pacifist. Yet, I have those moments when … More
From a tourist to a full-time Parisian? Peut-être. Never lost the wonder, though.
It is here I always feel most at home, exactly where I’m supposed to be.
And what I admire is how the touristy and the local intermingle on the banks.
Willingness to be in touch with integral parts of our personality or our feelings or our lives, refusal to withhold or discard them only in the name of tact, is what for me constitutes grace.
…there is a side where, because of feeling unlimitedly everything in us as it is here and now, we allow the place to touch us in ways it otherwise couldn’t and reveal layers of its own being we’d otherwise ignore.
Because it might be just as inspiring to look back to your used-to-be wish list than it is to always … More
you’ve just had your heart broken in Paris.
it’s a pretty nice place to have your heart broken in, don’t you think?
As much as I can love my new life and all it has given me, I have to accept the fact I excluded myself from the everyday life of most of my closest people.
It’s through them you realize someone’s place in your life, their soul as they say and what this soul can do to you. There’s the beauty and the terror.
There’s a grief and a recovery.
or The list of things that make me happy
Maybe luxury isn’t something we strive for, but something we are surrounded with already.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with being a muse, quite the opposite, to be inspiring is a privilege. Nevertheless, I believe it’s wrong to be reduced to one, to shrink one’s existence to a dependence on the other.
One of the best journeys I’ve ever had closing with yet another breathtaking panorama.
In every detailed wrinkle the rose wears proudly and beautifully she can see there are lessons and experiences that never die inside of us.
There is power, even more importantly there is humanity in embracing fragility and it is there we can sincerely approach and trust others.
I remember how I loved the journey, the act of being on the way to somewhere, as a child. It was the moments of observing the world around me I adored so much.
The more you go through, the more you can go through.
I’ve been too stubborn about it, like a blindfolded hurt buffalo thrusting my way through every relation I had, family, friends or love, it didn’t matter. All they had to know and what I wanted to feel was the eternal I don’t need anybody, any-F*-body, ok?
That’s the thing with travel. The best and the most memorable moments catch and refresh you unexpectedly like a shower of rain on a steamingly hot day.
I’ll never forget that weird Saturday afternoon 8 years ago when I arrived to Paris, alone for the first time…
There is a point in solo-travel when you get uncomfortably nervous.
Do you ever wonder how intuition works in mysterious ways? How you can sometimes just know things after the first glance and sometimes the first impression completely misleads you… So, how does it work?
For if the sense of myself being alive is not about the travels, adventures and experiencing the world in its fullness, what is then?