Les Voyages Ordinaires

Les Voyages ordinaires is perhaps a novel, perhaps a story of melancholy. A melancholy that would have found its herbarium. But melancholy as a point of passage, that of the being who passes, a link between oneself and the other, whatever the time and the place: it is also necessary to say that melancholy is the happiness to have lived. Thus, It is to explore all the ways of making the world, in oneself, earlier, elsewhere, differently, by being aware of what could have been as well as of what has been. And to bring back faces, silhouettes, plants, animals, and to insert them in a kind of kaleidoscope of astonishment where behind the fragment continuities, series of harmonics, between living beings and imaginary bodies are revealed.