Imagine the house you’re in, the one that serves as the framework for your entire existence, where you built your life, your person, your family… imagine it in the hands of future owners, in 20 years, 30 years, 40 years… imagine them reclaiming a dilapidated house, with moldy woodwork, a roof with multiple holes, boards damaged by humidity, by millions of footsteps, outdated furniture.
Imagine people throwing all of this in the dumpster: the drywall, the rickety old furniture, the worn carpets, the planks of your little cottage that you loved so much.
This house is your body.
Today, whether you know it or not,
and you, looking at this, who are you ?
Notes & Silence 
The older I get, the easier it becomes to see myself a ruin…
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in « see myself »
Is this where stillness lies ?
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Perhaps. Maybe that is why it is but a fleeting glimpse.
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