estimados/as, queridos/as

Allen and William, rue du château d'eau. Paris 1997

ON THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE MULHOLLAND DRIVE COW BOY

I heard the cow boy of Mulholland drive.
The buffalo cranium was there, suspended from the wall

The place was a kind of ranch deprived of horses for several years. All the boxes were as empty as the big house standing on the bank of this windy hill facing the sea far away. In the morning, he said he wanted me to accompany him to the house. He said it wouldn’t take a long time; he just needed to have a look at the chimney to find where the leak was. He needed to go up on the roof of the house. We went there with the owner, a tai-chi woman teacher. She said the ranch was to be sold. He looked at me without any complicity.

I had a walk through the huge tropical garden. The house was uninhabited but somebody was taking care of the plants because they were beautiful.

I walked around the house and saw them supported against one of these white walls. They were curiously close. I thought that it might be in relation with the past. But forget to know more about the past I said to myself. I went my way but from this moment, the paranoia started to follow me.
I went down to the garden and then discovered the empty boxes and the buffalo cranium. I felt attracted to the buffalo bone for no reason. I wanted to photograph it immediately. I looked at the land. No sign of life. I could only hear the wind howling in the pines. I looked at him overthere on the roof watching inside the chimney flue and next calling to the owner if she was seeing water falling down.

I came back next to the buffalo bone and heard a voice tell me: “this is the boy”.

HEROS MALGRE SOI

Avez-vous déjà tenu un héros dans vos bras?

Avez-vous déjà senti sa peau douce contre votre joue, les mèches soyeuses de ses cheveux qui glissent entre vos doigts?

Oh! bien sûr, à l’époque, sur l’île de Lanzarote où nous nous sommes rencontrées, elle était déjà promise au destin, Lola. Quelques mois plus tard, à bord d’un voilier en compagnie de Gildas, acrobate malgré lui (les roches volcaniques de l’île s’en rappellent) et de Laure, dont le sang nous unis au titre de cousine, à une époque de l’année où les vents sont le moins favorables, elle mettait le cap sur les Antilles.
Ils ont chargé les provisions, fait le plein d’eau douce et de courage et ils sont partis tous les trois. Peu importe la route, les moyens, la destination, il fallait partir. Ils l’ont fait, petite famille en quête d’aventure. Ainsi, Lola avait à peine un an quand, depuis le Puerto del Carmen, ils ont mis les voiles.

Plus de six semaines en pleine mer. Donnant des nouvelles de temps à autre via SailMail, nous savions qu’ils tenaient bon. Moi, j’ai sué plus d’une fois jusqu’à ce qu’un jour d’avril ils annoncent à l’horizon, la découpe des côtes de Trinidad y Tobago.

Que peut-on attendre de la vie quand, du haut de sa première bougie, on affiche déjà une transatlantique à son curriculum?
Affaire à suivre…



Les parents en mer des Caraïbes:

Estimados/as, queridos/as

Mariana, México D.F. 1976
Alberto, Madrid 1976

Lo que sucedió (por Pontxo, detective):
Albert y Mar han montado un despacho de asesoría legal, editorial, deportiva y psicológica para socios del Atleti (Colchoncitos, aunque puede asistir cualquier aficionado). Se están forrando con las técnicas innovadoras de Mar al cambiar las tradiciones del hincha a la hora de vivir el fútbol: en lugar de bocata al medio tiempo, una pastillita de lexatín (famoso ansiolítico) y paseíllo relajado al baño para evitar la mala digestión y el ataque de ansiedad mientras más se acerca el final del partido. Albert publica las invaluables memorias de viejos socios en forma de preciosos libros ilustrados. En el fondo buscan montar una directiva paralela, igual de poderosa, para liberar al club de la tiranía de los filisteos. Mar suele actuar en el Use it or lick me los fines de semana, y su famoso show de Thriller (versión leather) arranca los aplausos del variopinto respetable.

Septiembre 2006: algunos socios del Aleti con nuestros servidores dentro del despacho. Las caras de felices es porque no era un día de partido.

estimados/as, queridos/as

Sylvie, Pau 1974















At her wedding
With her husbands

One day in the past

Spiti Valley, State of Himachal Pradesh, Indian Himalaya. May 2001


««remembering spiti valley

dear agnes,
i am so delighted to receive your letter and the photos which are really very lovely. they are the only ones i have from this trip. i have made colour photocopies to send to friends and my family. Thanks very much for not forgetting. Thanks a million.
my fingernail (do you remember?) is slowly regrowing. its just coming up to one third of its normal length. the finger feels kind of numb and especially while giving shiatsu it kind of feels peculiar.

i returned to the south via rohtang and manali and skipped the rekongpeo roadway. something to do some other time perhaps.
back in auroville it is hot and humid and life is somewhat slow. but i am rejoicing, i am living in india and that is my heart's wish.
for one week i will leave my flat in the centre of auroville to live at the beach in a hut. for a change and a kind of holiday feeling. it will be nice to sit on the terrace overlooking the ocean at night, contemplating and meditating.
trusting you are well and that you are happy in your new job
i send you all my love
heidi»»

Things that happen to travelers.
Things they remember.
Things you send to them.
Things they send you back
Travelers that you met.
Travelers who have disapeared.

estimados/as, queridos/as

Marie, Montauban 1973