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Sid

so Paris so chic

bastille

strasbourg – st denis

casually pizzaing

on a train to Paris – traveling notes, #3

my daily life in Australia is empty of memory triggering places. having immersed in my past over the last two days in Angers has felt incredibly precious. each and every memory being triggered. the more mundane often being the more touching.

a roundabout at the Trélazé exit, leading to the Cholet/Niort/Poitiers road i drove so many times and at so many different hours;

a steep garage drive way going under my childhood appartment block, on which we learnt to roller skate;

the salle des sports in St Rémy la Varennes, where i trained for tennis every wednesday afternoon for a year;

the train station in Angers, the street leading to the train station in St Mathurin, the stone built platform under the bridge, the small cave next to the town hall, the road to Martigné swimming pool, the place the phone booth used to be, l’avenue Foch, le boulevard d’Arbrissel, le boulevard du Roi René.

all reminding me of both the cost and benefits of my exile. some very powerful and ambyvalent feelings, overwhelming at times.

sharing these some 30 years later with my growing children has felt incredibly precious. a pilgrimage of sorts, in a region i so often decried. they loved it. i loved it. i fell both nostalgic and very privileged.

life is a strange beast.

casually churching

racines + soleil.

les vacances, le mariage.

Brigné sur Layon.

les écoles

soleil + racines.

adolescence, St Mathurin sur Loire.

shaving – traveling notes, #2.

having had long talks with my mum and my brother, about the -mostly unfair- ways of the world and the environment we live in, the sense of agency we have or don’t. the actions and commitments we take or don’t.

expressing mainly my need to block out all this external noise, to protect my sanity and my sense of hope. realizing my self centred approach to life, and the potential inadequacy of that approach on an ethical level. the selfishness.

I wet the shaving brush.

squeeze shaving cream in the bowl.

build up lather.

start the slow process of clean shaving a three weeks old beard.

slowly scattered, lost and disconnected thoughts start to connect again, and a wider sense of understanding begins to emerge.

I am shaving, and I am not.

I am meditating.

at the moment and after three years I still am absorbing the shock of ending of my previous life with the mother of my children in a foreign country. and all the aftershocks. I am still recovering. readjusting.

the mishandlings, the mistakes, my regular dishonesty about it and its consequences. the lessons learnt. the apprehension and deep fears about my current situation. the precariousness of this season in my life. what if the car breaks down. what if Lachie needs his house back.

it’s all rumbling in the background.

I am not a selfish person, uninterested in the ethics of this world. I am gathering strength, & feel that need very deeply. hence the need of a gym training, and the necessity of looking after my body and my self. hence the need to shield my life from all external pressure. hence the mediation while shaving.

the quiet look at my face reflected on

a mirror.

the questionning of my where abouts.

where now.

where to.

what fears.

sitting now in by brother’s family calm house. while they have gone to work, to school, going and pushing their business as usual. while my children are deservingly resting, and sleeping past 10, on the midway mark of our huge holiday trip.

gathering thoughts, taking some deep breathing, recentering a bit.

near Angers. about to re-visit some places I grew up in.

cousinade

reine de galette

up.

down

peter.

son. son. daughter.

father. son.

cousin. father.

blue

fromages fromages

skating in the night

finding some snow to start the year – Semnoz, 1.1.23

from Annecy with love

the very last day of 2022

a magical kebab hunt in Thiers, Puy de Dôme

rocks sea sun & humans

sunnies

doelan – roche percée avec les cousins

le doigt de dieu

noël 2022

sainte barbe + saint fiacre

Mbappe Mbappe Giroud

traditions

birthday girl and the sea

notes on the journey #1

At the airport.

On the way to the bus, I let the kids walk and Jean lost her new doll a Christmas present I give her yesterday, and reminds her of her favourite character in her favourite movie. She is devastated.

We went back on our steps and Sid, hoping to find it starting running back towards the house and I lost him, he couldn’t hear me. In his very generous 11 year old way, he wanted to help. I was terrified of missing the bus and learned a good lesson. Don’t let small things escalate.

Andy drove back to find it and miraculously found it and drove by, just metres away from the bus. I felt incredibly supported. A good omen.

On the bus i realized I travel without any key in my pocket. There is a sense of freedom attached to this. It is a rare occurence and it does feel liberating.

On the plane the kids are seating on their own, in front of me. They look so happy so safe, so loved. I feel overwhelmed with emotions.

Jean takes her own initiative to fix the remote control issue. Calls the air hostess, and get the to help. Sid turns Jean’s screen off when she falls asleep. Zsuzsa always looking around. They are so resilient.

and so it all ends

and so it all begins

jour J

direction Doha

J – 1