Ga’
On the Garden, waking a messenger of the night.
Site of Art, deepening, free interpretation and expression, a look on the garden’s world. A look. Eyes of lucid and wide awake darkness like blueberry holding in your rabid hands. Between fogs of the time and the memories that I don’t know more, the tender and sincere fear thus emerges see again a day the life for what it is. A stiff hand, an other one ready to tighten it, to weave fables between hats, visions blend eyes, truth unaware that they do not make more to laugh, a day of distant people, like indefinite contours that cross the horizon of events. A sense or a limit that the time doesn’t have, never…
