Categorie: Love

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La beauté du ciel

[ Dimanche 1er mai 2017.
Le téléphone sonne aux environs de 10 heures.
« Bonjour, gendarmerie de Mantes-la-Jolie, chef d’escadron D. M., ne vous inquiétez pas (une précaution de ce genre), mais la tombe de votre mère a été profanée dans la nuit. » La fin du message est floue dans ma mémoire. Probablement l’usuel « vous pouvez me joindre à tel numéro », etc.
…
Lundi 12 juin 2017
J’arrive chez le docteur B. avec un test de grossesse positif.
Le calendrier nous aide à déterminer le jour de ta conception. 20 mai 2017. Trois semaines après l’épisode du cimetière. En capacité de procréer depuis plus de vingt-cinq ans, sans contraception depuis dix ans, c’est maintenant que ça marche ? Y aurait-il une cause et un effet? L’empêchement venait-il de là? Futur(e) ché- ri(e), dis merci à ta grand-mère.
Le laps de temps entre ces deux journées (profanation-procréation) ne peut qu’exciter mes croyances irrationnelles, mes pensées magiques. ]

Dat schrijft Sarah Biasini, dochter van de actrice Romy Schneider (1938-1982), in haar boek “La beauté du ciel” (Éditions Stock, 2020, 251 blz.), opgevat als een dagboek, gericht aan haar dochter Anna (°9 februari 2018).
3 weken scheiden deze twee gebeurtenissen en Sarah besluit dat dit geen toeval kan zijn. Zowel zij als haar moeder raken ongeveer op dezelfde leeftijd zwanger (39/40 jaar), « des grossess tardives» … Maar wat er met en in het leven van haar moeder daarna gebeurde beangstigt haar.
Sarah was vier jaar oud toen haar moeder overleed. Die had een jaar eerder haar zoon David (14 en halfbroer van Sarah) verloren na een dramatisch ongeval.
Een menselijk, hoopvol, eerlijk en ontroerend moederschapsboek over de dood heen, over kwetsbare, maar sterke vrouwen, soms confronterend en bol van symboliek.
Biasini gaat niet op zoek naar de wereldberoemde actrice, maar naar haar moeder, en op die manier ook naar zichzelf.
Ten zeerste aangeraden.
« On me parle d’elle en disant son nom au lieu de dire « ta mère », « votre mère ». Comme si je n’étais pas là, devant eux. Je ne comprends pas ce qu’ils disent. Je ne les écoute déjà plus. De qui parlent-ils ? Son nom ne m’intéresse pas, il n’y a que ma mère qui m’intéresse. »

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Oceanic

(France, Biarritz,  Sunset @ Rocher De La Vierge & Vieux-Boucau-les-Bains, Atlantic Ocean beach, February 25th, 2009, a magic moment in front of my lens)

Sometimes we hesitate between tomorrow and today,
the burden of yesterday upon our shoulders as an ocean
wave, too heavy for a ride. Sometimes we hesitate upon
that selfsame wave, we hesitate, we linger, we listen to
the wind perhaps there is a message there before we
drown in thoughts about these waves that on and on roar
through our heads as a forgotten love, long, long forgotten
but present, each second coming, coming and again:
you see Here face in front of you, with every hand She
lays upon the beach a deadly kiss, but still this wind is
irresistible, is loud and clear and yet again we hesitate,
shall we then sing with Her this ancient melody, written
in a thousand pebbles on the shore? Sometimes we hesitate
between tomorrow and today, the burden of a yesterday
upon our shoulders as an ocean wave, but once the die is cast
we fly, O we sing, we dance and glide, no cold can hold us
back, this beach is ours and we meet our Love, we roll and
turn, become the Wave, Her arms around us, gently rocking,
Her voice a lullaby we recognize from first we entered, O
yes, and here She is, for us only for us, and up and down
we go, we roll and rock, we shout exhilarated, we enter in
Her curve, She is inviting us again, again, Her wave a womb
to live our lives so fast and faster still until the winter carries
us above the water, we have wings and eagle like we leave
the cave, invited by the Sun as if we were a newborn Star,
O yes, we shine, we shine with our new Light years and
years ahead, beyond all hesitation found our Love, finally
Home, finally homeward bound and yes, this beach is ours
this ocean now our Home, and that is all we have and all
we need, there is no hesitation in this moment because this is
indeed All we have, O, All we will have, All we will have eternally.

(written February 25th, 2009, on the beach during a rain shower -see the manuscript!- on the Vieux-Boucau-les-Bains beach near Biarritz, sitting on a dune, watching some surfers on the waves. I had told them I would write a poem for them while watching. After their surfing, the poem was finished and I read it to them. A magic moment!)

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Gloomy Winter’s Noo Awa’


“Gloomy winter’s noo awa’, saft the westlin’ breezes blaw
Amang the birks o’ Stanley Shaw, the mavis sings fu’ cheery-o
Sweet the crawflower’s early bell, decks Glennifer’s dewy dell
Bloomin’ like your bonnie sel’, my ain my darlin’ dearie-o
Come my lassie let us stray o’er Glennifer’s sunny brae
And blythely spend the gowden day ‘midst joys that never weary-o

Towerin’ o’er the Newton woods, lavrocks fan the snaw white clouds
And siller saughs wi’ downy buds, adorn the banks sae briery-o
Round the sylvan fairy nooks, feathery brackens fringe the rocks
And ‘neath the brae the burnie jouks, and ilka thing is cheery-o
O trees my bud and birds may sing, flowers may bloom and verdure spring
But joy tae me they cannae bring, unless wi’ you my dearie-o.”

The lyrics are by the Scottish Poet Robert Tannahill (1774-1810): “… in 1810, following the rejection of an augmented collection of his work by publishers in Greenock and Edinburgh, he fell into a despondency aggravated by fears for his own health. Eventually he burned all his manuscripts and drowned himself in a culverted stream under the Paisley Canal, where he was found because he had left his jacket at the mouth of the tunnel.” 😥

This poem sung by Dougie MacLean. The poems of Tannahill were set to music by, a.o. , Scottish organists R.A. Smith and John Ross and some by Tannahill himself.

(ps: this song was the inspiration for “The Heart Asks Pleasure First” by Michael Nyman, made famous by the movie “The Piano” – 1993)

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Relaxing at the Garden Chapel

Just me, relaxing in the garden, on a very warm day, listening to music and reminiscing… Songs: “De Roos”, Ann Christy and “Immortels”, Alain Bashung. Extra footage of me on a roadtrip in Normandy, Falaise, Autoroute A31.

Motherland

For all who embrace freedom in a peaceful way.

Sun Meditation

Soul Healing Meditation: relax while the Sun is setting.

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Allerzielenvuur All Saints Fire

Allerzielenvuur All Saints Fire 🔥 (subtitled) Rond de vuurtafel herdachten Hugo De Deken en ik in woord en zang alle Zielen, in naam van onze geliefde UFSAL decaan en “Glimlachende God” Bernard-Frans van Vlierden (auteur Bernard Kemp), veel te vroeg van ons heengegaan op 2 november 1980. ❤️

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Vienna

To live
between tomorrow
and today
a yesterday
upon our shoulders
as an ocean wave
we carry
always carry
future and
forget about
the wings that
brought us here
we live
we love
we dance under
a setting sun,
then walk
away,
leaving
the miracle
that only can be
seen with our eyes
closed,
while
Vienna
always will be
there

(Saturday October 22nd, Raversyde Beach, Belgium,
after a conversation with this Austrian couple)

Billy Joel: “Vienna” (1977)

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Éternité

(pour Nacer et sa famille)

Ici
c’est l’éternité,
pêcher,
nager,
parler,
comme si
il n’y a pas
de demain,
mais le vide,
plein
d’aujourd’hui

(Samedi, 22 octobre, plage Raversyde)

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