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The Cosmic Saw

Modifié le : 2019/07/18

This was a long week­end that allowed me to rest a lit­tle, at least do some­thing else. I have been work­ing for a month now on the last room of the house that had not yet been ren­o­vat­ed. It’s not as much as I can afford it, but it’s a neces­si­ty. This large room, the so-called dou­ble liv­ing room, whose unnec­es­sary sep­a­ra­tion I undid, widened the open­ings, was still, until very recent­ly, a real giant closet.

I’m long for the final set, but things are in order. I throw, I clas­si­fy. One room emp­ties and anoth­er fills up so that anoth­er can work on it. It looks like my life right now. Every­thing is in the pipeline. Per­haps this is how my days will always be built because many projects are start­ing with this nov­el which encoun­ters sur­pris­ing pit­falls, but which advances all the same. It may even­tu­al­ly come into being and, I am told, it is expect­ed to be released in Jan­u­ary or Feb­ru­ary 2015. I am not yet sure that I should be hap­py about that. The doubts are not over with me. I rely on the great forces that are beyond me. The oth­er work­site is cer­tain­ly this apart­ment. Then the restora­tion of my finances, then the real anchor­ing to my work, then I don’t know what.

There is also this singing class which gives me as much sat­is­fac­tion as frus­tra­tion. My voice is ris­ing, but is it the har­bin­ger of win­ter and com­pli­ca­tions of all kinds else­where in my life that make me doubt it too ? Aren’t I too old and too poor to afford young first class ? As per­haps my grand­moth­er Ger­maine was, I am an anx­ious per­son by nature ?

You just need a big vaca­tion, whis­per to me the qui­et voice of my rea­son. And that is the prob­lem, that rea­son is right. I don’t see how I could do that. No mon­ey and I have to sur­vive well, keep afloat what is still flow­ing a little.

So I con­tin­ue my work. So releas­ing this dou­ble liv­ing room push­es me to want to dream of doing pho­tog­ra­phy again. That’s all it took for fate to send me a good sig­nal. A friend, whom I haven’t seen in a long time, will soon be cel­e­brat­ing his 50th birth­day. He con­tact­ed me on Face­book because he would like me to take his por­trait. It does­n’t take much more than that for me to do watch videos on Craftsy…

I’m made like that, always on one leg, danc­ing angry menuet. The cos­mic saw does the rest, the ges­tures I make delin­eate by them­selves the archi­tec­ture of what will be done in my next days, months. Peo­ple from the past con­tact me, oth­ers, not yet in my present, make a place for them­selves. Noth­ing is lost and noth­ing is cre­at­ed, they say. So I’m in the mid­dle of a blind rehearsal, and I dream of great horizons.

Who­ev­er lives will see.

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