(Author’s Note: This text, written on the first day of my second stay in Salies, goes to show how one changes with time; two years later I am a Saliescien)
Day one in Salies and one cannot understand why one does not live in France: Continue reading
losing things
MAGIC, MIRACLES AND MISUNDERSTANDINGS
Magic is now, in this moment,
the moment when the cloud bank that has hung over Salies all grey day long
suddenly can no longer hide the sun that bursts through in the most
gloriously golden Rembrandt-hour I recall. Continue reading
Writing a life 