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go to the bar of the theater. You'll see. It is zinc over coffee or at a table eating lunch among his band. She speaks. She speaks 80% of the time, others make do with what remains. She is pursuing hundreds of conversations, those initiated since the dawn of time and last: one, the other, how you doing, the police were still at the crossroads of the station yesterday evening ... She has the eye everywhere. She looks at you live and a moment later looks down like a little girl. It is fair to say and speak up. It is always up. It comes and it goes through the door stage left. At the revoyure, Wowol!

Cinema Pont l'Eveque, the Concorde, is aptly named. Great venue. At this time the festival takes place the animated film. Everything is free, that is to say, offered by the city. A jury awards a prize for children on weekends. The room is full: kids, parents. At the time it rustles at the time it plays with surprising attention. Mr. Leforestier this movie moment at the microphone: 3D technique with cardboard glasses to see the terrain. Forward, here we go: here are three flies toward the lune.Je really enjoy. The meeting. The atmosphere. I enjoy the pleasure of the boss. To share the passion that animates it with a generosity always new. Precious. So precious these days.

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The old part of the cemetery reminds me of a stormy sea. Nothing is right. The graves of the heel. Foundations bend, crumble, sometimes collapsing. Are all askew. The roots have lifted the flagstones. The gel has cracked the stone. Crosses lose a limb. Others are lying, broken into several pieces. Wave wins granite. The headstones dot the brown foam. Lichens yellow gold fuse as tasks watercolor. One wonders if this is not the dead that challenge the gravel in search of air and freedom and that strength of perseverance they succeed. The dead love the stars.

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I remember 20 years ago, I dined in a boarding house at Porta in the Pyrenees. An only child was struggling between father and mother at the next table. A close discussion. Parents in turn played the allies. Child alone with no one to go against it from time to time enjoyed the support of a parent towards the other.
Today I'm in a restaurant in Pont l'Eveque. A child of 11 or 12 years dines with his two parents. The dish is finished. She left a lot on your plate. She plays on her cell phone. Parents talk to each other. The worlds are separated. There is no discussion. There are more questions. The only child is alone. The parents are alone. I wrote in a first movement "finally" only. Probably an exaggeration but that's what I feel. This lack of
question terrifies me. No question, no question. Each maintains its position, on his guard, in his personal fortress. It's just like our present universe. It is talking without listening. It speak not in order to exchange or change of use but the possible unveiling of the other, weakness enlightened somehow and struck his own truth, to bind, to demonstrate how it is right ... While no one is revealed, that is to say, exposes his questioning, his fragility.
Snowball.
When the president travels, he monopolizes the hordes of riot police to the questions just do not come to him for precisely that no weakness appear. Anywhere. Arrogant attitude which obviously breeds violence. Yes, the president may be low. Momentary low. Like all of us. We are weak momentary because we are human. Otherwise, in terms of the President, we are our own puppet.
The worst part is that it is not the only issue in this "marionnettisation. The world we make, symbolized by the phone, amplifies the tendency to turn inward.
Separates.
He stiffens. It
cloisonne.
It isolates. It arouses aggressive
away as the other. More
life eludes us, the more excitement we win.
Please, put the conversation with your neighbor, especially if it appears to miles away from your world. Engage means to engage, so engaging, that is to say not to hide his weakness, weaknesses, issues, real, not ersatz ... and again I think the president.

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