These words appear as they are, planted as such in my mind.When I try to appear through them, the text becomes stained and insipid. It’s
Étiquette : creativity
Digging With a Pen
I dig my soul with the pen.Each letter, each word is a shovelful in the earth of consciousness,A few extra centimeters of furrow dug in
Gardening
I see those articles as seeds, out-of-time compact flashes,I plant them in the fields of blank pages. The furrows of the pen pulled by my
Creativity Inhibitors
Social networks absorb a significant part, if not all, of the individual’s creativity. The short and ephemeral formats of expression that they favor contribute to
Paper Koan
Writing is a photograph. With a few lines of light, I engrave the paper.Apart from those moments, I live in a thick cloud of darkness.
Grabbing the pen
Grabbing the pen,What else could I do?I don’t know how to wield a sword nor am I able to swiftly swing my fists.Grabbing the quill,
All These Writings
All these writings: Tap water, Used after heavy roadworks in the streetAt the same time muddy, clear, gushing,Then regaining its regular flow All these writings:
Field of Failure
By dint of cultivating the field of failure with so much tenacity,it cannot be ruled out that something ends up growing there… ©ndraw@protonmail.com – Nov
Creative Idleness
By what you perceive as idleness, flitting,I work, in reality, for the completeness of my being. Idleness: I observe the abacus of life under unexpected
Article Shelter
I write, one step at a time,I walk with a pen in my hand. On a pathless paper,I meander in letters of laces. My bag
Writing Initiates
Writing initiates the passage through the mental spectrumof a fine-toothed comb. Cornering statement,A salvation escape in the breach of light that is taking shapethrough an
Creating Reality : A Child’s Play
From childhood, we retain a fairly fine habit of integrating new skills. It is a playful, quite refined, integrated, internalized reflex that underlies some of
Music / Spirituality
The same holds true for music and spirituality.It is possible to have read all music manuals, every article about counterpoint, to know it all about
Laying Hands
I realize the beauty of a job consisting in laying my hands on something, and letting them takeAn animal, a wooden board, a human body,
A Wolf, At Night
You’re blowing the squalls of magnetic particles,they infiltrate my mind, steal me from the presentthey flatten my inner landscapes to the boardwhere the absence of
Notes & Silence 