This will be all for today, April 10th 2008.  

I return at any moment, as soon as any noteworthy event appears in my world.

I would like to thank very much Angela S. who brought me a huge help to translate into english !

1974 October: Conception.  We are having an Indian summer (if we can say this) and my parents are coming back from their honeymoon (in the Balearic Islands it seems).  

Very vague memories of my life just before my birth. I did not even notice Christmas, neither the beginning of the new year 1975, neither Valentine’s Day, nor the arrival of Springtime, and still even less the famous Easter Bells.  No, in fact, nothing definite or precise.

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1975 1975 End of May: I’m dying to see the world, I cannot wait any longer ; I must know what is happening outside. Birth in Nantes (France,44) three weeks earlier than predicted, a « beautiful baby ; he looks like red skin » said one of the midwives. My God ! But his sign is Gemini ! What else can one say except about my 3.3 kilograms and my 50 centimeters long.

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1975/1981 I spend an enormous amount of time at my maternal grandparents’ because nannies and all that, it is not really « good for me ». At their house, I learn to whistle with my fingers and to dance on the bellies of people.  During this time, I learn my alphabet and to count, especially watching the french TV program « Des Chiffres et des Lettres ». I have a definite taste for everything that is about secret agents, in order to make hideouts for myself under tables, and to create my own little world, just for me.

At pre-school, I get noticed because of my « different » attitude: I don’t mingle with the other children, I stay, alone, standing in the middle of the schoolyard watching the others have fun and running in every direction. To play with others, to participate in group activites, how boring ! I prefer to play quietly with my little cars and to invent imaginary circuits for myself.

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1981/1986 The Primary school period where I am not noticed much by my teachers. Anything that is about French, poetry or human sciences doesn’t interest me too much (I need hours to find ideas for my regular essays…). However, logic, mathematics such as algebra fascinate me, I love to rack my brains. I also find refuge in drawing in the famous yellow « Calligraphy » notebooks: my partiality for country maps as well as for the rose of all shapes and the « diamonds » (I adore coloring the inside according to my mood). No known traces yet of any writing.

Also, every Tuesday evening, I take violin lessons and music theory classes which give me a taste for classical music, and training for concentraion, for rigor. 

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1987/1991 Middle school period. Nothing to mention either: I do not read many books, except the ones that teachers « strongly advise ». The essays have transformed themselves into small dissertations and I am still able to write an acceptable story (« You must learn to write » I am told). 8th grade class: After long weeks where two « older boys » make fun of me and openly tease me, I start to write my first poems (which become the mirror of my « state of mind » ) I write at least half a text per day, every evening in my bed. In 9th grade: I discover Baudelaire’s universe (in which we must present an oral report)… Finally a man who reveals a different world, the images are superb. Les Fleurs du Mal become my nightstand book. I’ve read almost all the Agatha Christie’s, under the pressure of my mother who wishes that I read to raise my disastrous level in French (except for dictation in which I excel). July: Trip to Egypt. 

Besides this, I invest myself in Martial Arts (I stopped my violin after eight years of practice) where I find once again a serenity, a code of honor, a respect, an exoticism which seduces me more than reason.

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1992/1995 High School Period. Girls have just made their apparition in my universe, I notice them only now.  Discovery of the Contemplations of Hugo. Very few novels which do not capture my interest, for too realistic to my taste except for certain works which take me away like Treasure Island by Stevenson and The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells. April and August 1992: Trip to the  United States and Canada. The anglo-saxon influence fascinates me for good, I like this faith where each one can build his own dream. Parallel to this, I still continue to write poetry, especially since I found an insatiable inspiration, the woman, to whom I vow an interest without borders, very ideal but always in secret. I note all my texts in a little wide-ruled notebook which I entitle, « A universe of sensations and emotions ». Meanwhile, I take great pleasure playing around with the English language, to read it, to write it, to listen to it (I ask the teachers to translate for me the lyrics): my taste grows farther away, little by little, from the french culture crossing over the Atlantic especially.   

Note of informative nature: My philosophy teacher admits to me (and what a surprise !) that I am a « dark student, an impenitent dreamer, and who doesn’t know how to write.»

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1995 First year of English University of Nantes. Discovery of the feeling of freedom. My taste for the anglo-saxon culture, American culture especially, becomes an influence that I nurture in my reading. Two or three professors infuse in me the taste for reading : discovery of novels, especially those from the universe of Jack Kerouac and authors of the Beat Generation, as well as those of Jules Verne. Everything that touches the theme of initiation, of self-discovery, of spirituality, interests me.  

For poetry, the explosion spreads to Rimbaud, Verlaine… In the middle of a french module, I have the feeling that I must regroup my poetry in a book and already, the adjective « purple » resonnates in my head. Parallel to this, I go back to drawing, I copy again the Mangas characters most of the time, but this will not go farther than these tries.

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1996/1997 I am still at the English University but i am becoming more and more an « intermittent » at the university but, as a good student, I am going to the end of my course work. Now, I stopped Spanish as my second language and plunge myself into the learning of Japanese, in order to reinforce and taper my taste for the asiatic culture. I often have my nose in my books or my head in the clouds listening to my walkman (oh yes, then it was cassettes and not CD’s like now nor MP3!), which earn me several nicknames such as « cosmic », the « anti-social », the « dreamer ».  

October 1996: Meeting of a man who will take on the aspect later of the writer, Max Dorier. Under this strong friendship and with the contest of another friend, David, we form the group S.A.D., a trio of idealists who want to re-invent the world, who want to travel the world over, who want to learn everything. In this intense period, my taste and readings are going to take on a superior dimension, that of spirituality. Ensuing from these readings with a particular atmosphere such as The Monk by Gregory Lewis, Typhoon by Conrad or Chess story by S. Zweig: I am searching for uncommon adventures, or out of the ordinary. The hero must be plunged in a specific universe such as the character of Drogo in The Tartar Steppe of Buzatti.   

Discovery also of Astrology (I make astral themes for those who wish). With my two friends, the effervescence which animates us becomes very intense, especially during the year of 1997, and we have the huge project to leave and go around the planet: everything is being prepared far from the eyes and ears of the exterior world, our « ceremonies » are at night, we live out of sync, entrenched sometimes. 

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1998 The University remains a place of pilgrimage, I go, I come but stay only a short while, just enough to participate in my last year of my DEUG of English and Japanese. The adventure of the S.A.D. group ends prematurely, in the course of the summer where each one feels a different wind to guide him. Goodbye then to Siddhârta, Siva and Champa, the three accomplices! I thus decide to concentrate a little more on my texts, of reading also a little more poetry: it will be the time of Verlaine and of Prévert especially who, by his apparent simplicity, seduces me enormously. While writing, while searching my memory, while nourishing my poetry, I see how much I am « ripped » from the world and I doubt about my future (me who wanted to become an English professor overseas !). So then comes the meeting with a blessed teacher (at least for me, at this time):  Rainer Maria Rilke and his Letters to a young poet, a book that raises in me a violent reaction. Here, I find again a mentality, a state of mind, a self-search that I know since this is also mine. Finally, I find in a writer this same state of lucidity, of quest. 

From here on, I talk about it with Max and we decide to write, whatever place we may be, even if we see each other every day: in our letters, we will do the state of our thoughts about life, about our position with the world, about spirituality and we will celebrate the act of writing as such, as a gift of self to the other. I discover, time after time and by chance, following a TV report, the book of Hermann Hesse, Siddhârta and The Alchemist of Coelho. Two books which will act lighthouse books from now on for my thought, my literary investment, human, spiritual. At their reading, I have the intuition that I also, I have a path to follow…. But I do not yet have any one word to circumscribe it. 

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1999 I pursue my studies to finish my DEUG in English of which I still have two modules to finish. Such slowness !  I’m also often making trips to Paris: I take advantage of this to nourrish my budding interests and am interested by/drawn to painting, spreading out over a period going from the end of the 19th century until the end of Surrealism. I find again my French professor from my first year of University and he continues to influence the choice of my readings: Conan Doyle with The Lost World and several works from Jules Verne of which Journey to the Center of the Earth and this little writing fascinates me, The Eternal Adam. After these books I discover the principle subject of my searching: The theme of initiation, in the large sense, or how man transforms himself for another, how he is capable of aligning himself or if this is the world surrounding him that changes him. This question of initiation has just written itself in me, like a law to follow. My writings will be from now on turned towards this question.  

I am trying enormously to reward myself  with moments of leisure, of calm, of silence, of emptiness, essentially to read and also for my poetry – I also desire a new poetry, unprecedented, whole, an « elevated poetry ». In two consecutive months, one of my texts is noticed during the finale of a poetry contest organized by the review « Faces of the 20th Century » and I receive the 4th prize – for the poem « Le Jumeau » (« The Twin ») – in the section « Young Poets » in the poetry contest organized by the Academic Society of Nantes and the Atlantic Loire. Following these results, I start to participate in national contests and prepare an embryo of a poetry book which I name « Les Palabres Pourpres ». Next to this, I still entertain a correspondance with my friend Max Dorier: our letters are tinted with strong impressions, for we both are in the eye of the storm, we are facing our illusions. This year, I take measures with my contact with men, with the world of Men. The question of freedom (which becomes little by little my ideological banner, if one can say so) and of integrity, which are more than urgent.

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2000 Year of the most strange (here I am – and I have the impression – at the middle of a cycle…). 

First of all, having lost the taste for teaching, I turn towards a public profession, an apprentisship: I take on  training to become an Agent of Commercial Place (a pompous title to say that I work in the information desk for passengers at the airport). In my letters to Max, I have this over-inflated will to be a researcher, a « warrior of light ». The words do not prefigure any longer, my 25 years annonce a desire to do things but its difficult to extract oneself…  So, I plunge into books which resemble me a this moment, which can help me in this research that pulls at me secretly: but.. who am I ? What is this why ? Why do I feel a gap, a difference ? I need to understand: I am trying to interpret my dreams by noting them in a red notebook « Trocadéro » called In Your Dreams... I'm reading Freud in which the little book on dreaming teaches me a lot on the function and nature of our dreams. I also use this pretext to draw in my inspiration for my other texts, I read also Breton of which the fabulous Nadja and Mad Love. At these readings comes to me (finally…) the desire to be edited and I resign myself to the opportunities of doing it myself, story of having to keep control over everything. The idea of going through a big publisher does not even brush up against me so much that I am far from this universe so « mortal ». The world of the book appears to me as beautiful, unaccessable, elitist. During the summer, I discover the author James Redfield and his Celestine Prophecy, book that was recommended to me one year before during a trip to Morocco. I am quickly becoming an adept of his thought, I’m reading all which is about this unique mind which is getting closer to mine and who brings momentary answers to my questions. All my readings, since one or two years now, have common denominators which are dreams, signs, destiny and the power that one has on it, the capacity of man to surpass his condition. End of October-beginning of November: End of the correspondance between Max and me. 

Then a tragic event arises the following month: the death of my father. All of a sudden, I feel an emptiness that I try to master by taking care of my brother and my sister. I stop writing… for how long ? 

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2001 Year of wavering 

On one hand, my perspectives of being hired in an airline company decline since the economic context (9/11 events) and the loffs and other mergings which stand out in profile. And I have not the energy to fight, I cannot think anymore, my thoughts are confused, my interface with others evolves quickly, I become lucid, my eye becomes more critical. I am still trying to climb that hill though and decide to prepare (am I really convinced ?) for a contest for a post in administration for the Minister of Foreign Affairs. During this time, my readings are oriented more precisely towards worlds more esoteric such as the books of Rampa of which The 3rd Eye and the books of Bernard Werber, of which Le Livre du Voyage. I’m discovering in Les Thanatonautes and L’empire des Anges an excursion when on the subject of death, of our relationship with others, of the responsability which comes from it. From summer on, I decide to come back towards readings which seem to me like classics, which you cannot get away from. Among these: Of Mice and Men by Steinbeck, Friday by Tournier (to whom I write just to show my enthusiasm). I maybe am not writing poetry for the moment but I continue to read some, to try to be influenced by authors with a « difference » and I fall upon Maldoror and Poems by Lautréamont. My readings continue against winds and storms, following the same way, taking the same path, that of initiation, of transformation, of change, when it comes to Man. Definitely, there cannot be any free chance: whether I like it or not, signs are before me (such is my interpretation). I must surely have something to do, I have a role in all this. In the last trimester, Max and I decide to compile all our letters from the preceding years into a collection which takes the name of Correspondance d’un Poète à un Fou. ("Correspondance of a Poet to a Fool"). We have the pretention that our letters carry a message to young adults who are entering into active life or to those who are asking tons of questions about themselves. We wish also to share our experiences, to show to people how we envision the world, how we interpret it, how we evolve in this mechanism. A series of lettered photographs to underscore a thirst for understanding and a future artistic commitment. We send the manuscript to at least five publishing houses.

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2002 « Black and White » year

Chaotic beginning of year, unorganized, black, for my world is crumbling and my last « innoncence » evaporates: the death of my mother. 

I shoulder the responsibilities of a « confirmed » adult. I do not understand anymore about this existance, what is the point or why it shows misfortune to some while others are spared ! Yes, why ? I want to understand more than anything the why and the how of my incarnation. Big period of reflection where, fortunately, the author Hermann Hesse knows how to calm my fears, my anger and my doubts: pursue my reading of his work: Demian, Narcissus & Goldmund, Knulp, Steppenwolf. 

At the same time period, I know my first litterary success (one must relativize !) we sign (end of April) for the publication of the book Correspondance of a Poet to a Fool, to the Editions des Ecrivains, in Paris. The euphoria takes over, the pretensions let loose their bridle, and all sorts of premature plans have their succession at high speed. I keep a secret thought for my parents, wondering if they would have been proud of me… So there you have it, we now have a foot in the door in the world of Books and of Litterature, we are entering in by a small door, a very small door. To us advice is given, promesses in the air, unfounded guarantees. At the same time, I have the conviction and the ultimate intuition that I must truly choose my litterary commitment.  

During the summer and following, I discover and read two litterary phenomenons, separated by nearly 50 years : The trilogy of The Lord of the Rings by Mr. Tolkien and the magical childhood saga of Harry Potter by J.K. Rowling. For the first, I admire the style, the abundance of detail, the capacity of creating a universe, a world almost real with its codes, its laws, its protagonists. And for the universe of the little magician now known worldwide, I love the inventiveness, the simplicity, the primordial quality which is the feat of knowing how to tell a story. I move closer to these two phenomenons for the craze that they still are. September: Trip to Majorca where my mind knows a true rest, things are coming back to me calmly, posedly. I am also discovering Walt Whitman and his Leaves of Grass where poetry is free, natural, singing. Upon my return, the idea comes to me about one of my short stories, the story of a boy, Mahel, who goes through the years and the lives of people, infusing into them the desire to live out their most crazy dreams; I begin the redaction of a plan and the sequence as if for a movie.  The short story is going to become something bigger, I am sure of it but I don’t care because I am rediscovering my taste for writing. November: I receive the 4th prize at the Jeux Floraux des Cévennes, Free Poetry section. We receive also the first copies of the book Correspondance of a Poet to a Fool, we are crazy with exultation, of impatience. Meeting the 31st of December with the sculptor Gérard Voisin in his Nantes workshop.

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2003 Year of transfer, of new things, of artistic experiences.

I once again take up studying English in order to finish and perfect my degree: I have the impression to have been absent from the world of Men for two years and to be coming out of a long torpor, of a certain asphyxiation.  Beginning of the year, we start with Max to meddle in the dark arcans of an artistic life and participate in our first radio and journalistic interviews. Following, we continue on with the ceremony of each writer, the book fairs.  Meanwhile, participation in the scenario contest for short film making of "Les Lutins d’Or" with Between Shadow and Light, co-written with Max Dorier. April: trip to northern Italy (Milano, Como, Verona and Venice). These trips absolutely have the charm of sending new perceptions and, at my return, I decide to completely change the story of my « big short story »: this will be my first novel, made like a movie having very impressive visual effects, very percussive. I make myself write at least two to three hours per day (the evening especially), be it during the week or a weekend. Music is part of my writing environment, it influences my writings, my mood, my universe. My work of writing becomes disciplined, structured, cut out, with a personal methodology: noting my litterary and cinemetographic influences linked to my story, to recount the subject of the book and then the theory of the book, to define the type and the central axes, to list a dozen of dramatic knots, to dodge the principal characters (physical, social, psychological and their ideals) and finally, to cut out my sequences in several sub-parts. I wish a simple writing, direct, intimate but in which the reader can recognize himself easily: reading of Wind, Sand and Stars et Night Flight by St. Exupéry. May: The Internet site The Poet and the Fool is put up online. During this time, the book fairs are an incredible source of emotions. They exult in me the desire to go towards others.  Unfortunately – or maybe not actually – we are considered as too young, or out of sync with our times. The book is taken for a UFO in the plethora of books present. Some people underscore the fact that we are on a quest, on a personal search, that we are « spiritually very evolved »… Very well but this has no repercussion or almost on the state of our sales. What are readers looking for, people in general ? They want to escape but not too far… I return therefore to the writing of my novel baptized MAHEL where I keep as one of the principal characters that of a boy of my aborted « short story ». I ask myself about the diverse ways of escaping, to know other horizons like drugs especially. Big period of reading: Cocteau in which The Holy Terrors and Opium, Naked Lunch by W. Burroughs, Les Illuminations by Rimbaud, Edgar Poe and his Tales of Mystery. October and November: printing of some poems in e-reviews (on Internet), notably the Improbable Review, Anice-fiction and Artistasalfaix. October 28th: creation of the Literary and Humanitarian Association Les Alchimistes du Verbe, with Max Dorier. Coming quickly will be joining with us diverse authors such as Malick Diarra, Michel Lecourt, Paul van Lerberghe, in this new adverture.  The association is first of all literary, for it wishes to regroup different authors little known more or less, published or missing out on being, while forming little by little an innovative movement, "Alchiverbism". Finally, it harbors a humanitarian part for a part of the funds from sales made by the books is donated to organizations fighting against illiteracy. I still continue the morning (about one hour) and the evening (nearly two hours) to work on my manuscript of MAHEL: the story takes me by the throat, I live the book from the inside out, I associate the characters to myself, their lives…I become God in my own universe. 

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2004 Year of construction, the assertion. 

I decided to continue my English studies to make a master’s degree because I wish to integrate the world of the drafting written in the radios, magazines or daily press. January: setting online of Internet site of association Alchemists of the Verb. Association changes face and becomes edition-associative, which can from now on initially publish writers on account of author; the originality remains however that each author perceives the integrality of his sales, association remaining only one intermediary to help him to make known himself. After what seems to me an eternity, I gather my last texts - I finally start to find my style, my original approach of the words - under a collection which I name...The Crimson Palavers: here is thus a wish which is carried out in the light of the new year. Not having found any editor to publish my poetry because it "does not return in the stated leading line", I decide to pass through the associative one to make her known, to give her body and life. Development of a fanzine which draws his name from an extract of the Correspondence book, the Scriboic Directory. A semi-monthly fanzine recalling the literary, philosophical, spiritual course of the Alchemists. It is also a place where the thought and the alchiverbist movement develop his roots, and wishes to touch the greatest number of people. March: coming out of the first number. My readings since the beginning of the year: Ocean Mer by A. Baricco, always a little Kerouac at which I stills find a real freshness, Poetries by Paul Eluard. May: I receive the 3rd price with the poetry contest (Free Poetry section) of the Valley of the Dordogne (France) - Murat-Le-Quaire price - organized by association Henri Pourrat. June: I member of ADELF, a french literary association and 3 poems are published in the E-review Anice-Fiction and the french poetic review Florilèges. August : travel in Italy, in the "Cinqueterre", south of Genova. Summer readings : Le Procès by Kafka, The Devil and Miss Prym by Coelho et The Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger. Note the arrival of the author Lionel Daviet in the “book adventure” of the Alchemists. Since the entry of new school year, certain transformations take place, slowly but surely, like a moult: the friend Max Dorier leaves his country of Nantes for a southernmost city, Marseilles, which gives me the unique opportunity to rub me with people, the audience, my audience at the time of the book-shows: I thus continue, lonely, decided, enthusiastic, to discover me with through the eyes of others, the attentions are touching, moving, even impassioned. My universe likes, I allure by my words. October-November: publication of my poem Illusion of a Round in the Poésie/première french review. Then, it is the return of David, the other “stooge” of group S.A.D. who takes the face of a naturalist photographer primarily: project of a "beautiful book" (photos/texts) around a topic running in my vein since always, freedom. The photographic orientation is concerning the subject of the road. My autumnal readings proceed as follows: The American Lonesome Traveler in the process of disappearance by Kerouac (definitely, we cannot remake ourselves!!), Alchemy & Mystic by Alexander Roob where I draw inspirations for my writing, for my poetry which wants to be transformation, change. A world of changes, occults, attractive which plunges me in the mysteries of our imagination, with its batch of symbols. My eye becomes rotary, a headlight in my imaginary. End of the year marked by two significant books-shows, Riantec (France-56) where I meet personally the writers Irene Frain and Denis Seznec. And the books fair of La Rochelle (France-17) where, with the photographer David LEGER, we polish our collaboration photo/texts: the book on "the road" takes the title And if the Tortoises had Wings... In parallel, setting online of the forum The Scriboic World.

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2005 The true turning

January – February – March: Publishing in the Editions Les Alchimistes du Verbe of my second book of poetry, entitled, Transversal. A book where my poetry begins to find its own way, declining the senses, hidden, sneaking. An adventure. I receive at the beginning of March the 4th prize for the Poetry Award 2004 from the Academic Society of Nantes and Loire Atlantique, free poetry section.   

Parallel to this, I am also becoming a member of the A.E.B. (Association for Breton Writers) under the driving force of a new alchimist, Claude RINVAL. April: After regaining energy following the « redoing » of the fanzine, I « professionalize »  my website as well as the Alchimistes du Verbe site. Full speed ahead now ! I take advantage of this time to create the forum of the association, the world of the Alchimistes. The association is feminized and welcomes Lucie LR, Vinciane B. and Ana H. Meeting with the autor Evelyne Thomer who has been supportive of me in this litterary odysee, and of the surrealist painter, Alvaro MEJIAS. May-July: Arrival at the Alchimistes of Loise ESQUIVELLE and of Martial BOURDAIS, taking each one their own turn their pen for the redaction of the fanzine  L’annuaire Scriboique. At the same time I organize the company so that it transforms truly into a publishing house. The whole works are being offered to me and I penetrate silently the arches od a whole world. Arrival from Luxembourg in the family of the Alchimistes: Laurent FELS (author and publisher). I am always plunged into diverse activities:  development of the publishing house, fine tuning of my novel MAHEL (printing planned towards beginning of October) and writing of poetry for the beginning of next year… Hang on, I am going to see the end of the tunnel ! End of september: trip to Greece, principally the island of Eubee. October:  publication of my first novel titled MAHEL from the Editions Les Alchimistes du Verbe. That’s it ! After all these years, after these highs and lows, after tedious touch ups (of the correcting of the work thanks to a very picky correcter for the total production of the book), my novel sees the day ! The beginning is encouraging (even my doctor orders it !) YES ! Its shimmering midnight blue, this look that you cannot forget, I admit… I am proud of this work. In parallel, I fine tune my status, as well as the of Alchimistes du Verbe. November: the forum of the Alchimistes du Verbe dies prematurely. A new step is passed that is going to fly starting in January 2006. Everything is left to do and yet… at the same time, meeting and literrary friendship with the writer Anne-Sara. Readings of these latest months : La Modification by Michel Butor, The Glass Bead Game by Hermann Hesse.  

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2006 The takeoff (finally, lets hope for good !)

1st of January: a few noteworthy changes in my artistic activity. Yes, on one hand I have become independent by officially creating my own publishing house, named, I will give it to you a thousand times… (unbearable suspense and drumroll please) Editions Les Alchimistes du Verbe. Oh yes, like a sentimental attachment, I have kept the name of the litterary association to carry it higher even more, to the rank of publishing society in general litterature (novel, poetry, especially). So here I am then, enrolled in the Register of Commerce and of Societies with an INSEE number, a SIRET number, etc. the works ! And, on another hand, the association has lost its name to be called from now on the association Les Mots d’Enkidu (in reference to the companion of the character from the Epic of Gilgamesh). The magazine the "Scriboic Annals" rests in place still. February: the literary adventure is in pursuit... step by step, the Alchimistes du Verbe gain in vigor, strength, in experience and already some authors are being profiled for a future and a near publication.    

At the same time, my third poetry book has come out, entitled, L’empreinte du jour. (Imprint of the day). A book which breaks all the rules of poetry, where I break the forme, the rhythm. A huge thank you also to the illustrator of this book, the painter, Sylvie POTHIER. She also becomes a member of the association Les Mots d’Enkidu, as well as the painter and sculpter Marina VALTO, arrival of much clay and oil. Finally, I receive the fifth prize of poetry in the contest of the Academic Society of Nantes and Loire-Atlantique, free poetry section. Reading at the moment: the 6th volume of Harry Potter (oh yes, the suspense is so much entwined that I have been taken into the game…). May: arrival of Quentin CABRERA in the association Les Mots d’Enkidu, fresh blood lol. This period becomes professional, clear till the tips of my fingers: I am invested and in professional writing and am responsable for a publishing house. Who can stop me ? Readings... a few springtime to know the « phenomenon » Dan Brown and his Da Vinci Code and also Angels and Demons… August: Trip to Tunisia, near Hammamet. Writing of the second novel L’enfant du Soleil (Child of the Sun). Thank you to Lucie, to Damien and to André for their contributions in the confection of this work. And as there must be a balance in all things, when something good happens to you, the balance must re-establish itself, at any cost: this is why, a week after its third birthday, the association Les Mots d’Enkidu in which I was one of the writers and the director of publication, has seen its brutal end. The associative activity took a lot of energy from me, time, and offered me a growing pressure every month of the year that passed. Now, « fixe our minds on.. » as Miyagi would say in the film «The Karate Kid », at least mine: I am going to be able to concentrate now on my work as a writer and on running the publishing house, Les Alchimistes du Verbe. 

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2007 A missile ?  A rifle ? No, its the takeoff towards another confirmation.

January: After being named a prizewinner in the poetry contest 2006 « Entrepoésies » of the association An Amzer Poésies, for the poem « Réminiscence » and after a short month of pause from writing since the novel L’enfant du Soleil came out, my fingers are starting to itch and it’s with a new appetite that I go back to the writing of a new poetry book, a different opus from the others (how could it be differently ? lol) as much in its form (I’m able now to explode the barriers of the rhyme, of traditional form, the words run longingly between the meanderings of my far-out mind) but also in the back since I am attacking a certain kind which is not easy in poetry... that of the fantastic. Obviously, my masters of thought have knocked on my door, I want to speak of Dante (and of his Divine Comedy) and of Lautréamont.

A confirmation... as I was saying in my introduction… my heart affirms itself and dilates, my inspiration builds itself up, my friendships become unique, sensational, artistic (I am thinking of the writer André LECOSSOIS mostly but dare I forget the artist from the Voges region, Alexandra GERBER, the writer Solveig LE COZE, the painter and author Annick BOENNEC, the couple Mr. And Mrs. CLODIC without whom the word tenderness would be only a vain word, there is also Alis THEBE who vogues between painting and poetry, etc.) Latest readings: Visions of pilgrimage by Dominique Aucher, The Fifth Mountain by Paulo Coelho, and Ananda by Annick Boënnec. February: in my unbridled race to pursue the work of a Jean Cocteau (must know how to give oneself some ambition and some illusions ! Really !) here is born in the publisher Les Alchimistes du Verbe my fourth opus of poetry entitled Les Sortilèges de Mercure. My writing becomes more fluid, the subject matter more personal, I address myself to the reader by proposing to him (or to her, of course) a voyage into the heart of his (her) fears, of his (her) sins, vices.

As the inscription in the front of a temple dedicated to Apollo – Delphes (Greece) stipulates: « Know yourself and you will know the universe and the gods », I continue my quest of knowledge of man by probing every side, the dark sides. Oh, I do not have the pretention of knowing the gods but my search persists ! March: Since my induction to MySpace, my writings are read more, commented on, and its important for me to thank those who come visit this page, who enter into my universe, who let themselves be penetrated by a dream of elsewhere.  May-June: big step in my personal life since I am gone to do the pilgrimage of St. James (Compostela). A need to put myself in danger, a desire that persists for years, the will to confront oneself with the unknown, to see what I am capable of, to see what my limits are. « It is the trip that makes the traveler, and not the destination »  it seems… I admit that I have learned, step by step, in the flesh as in the rest of my body, what this means: I had questions, doubts, anger, grief to evacuate and I can tell you that I went to the ends of my emotions, practicing the « letting go » totally, taking a step aside to observe myself, to see my reactions. The result (at the current time of these words) is unique: I have returned with a few certitudes, some new orientations for my personal life as well as professional life, a rage to write, all is coming back slowly but inexorably, all is coming back ! Beautiful things to plan in the coming months ! Readings to take me away again a little bit more: Journal and other writings by Christophe Colombus and The Teachings of Don Juan: A Yaqui Way of Knowledge by Castenada. Early December: Few new things surfacing except that following my journey, I left the city, my beautiful city of Nantes (for a long time? forever?) and went to the north of the Loire-Atlantique department, the "Land of Three Rivers" as it is called here, a calm place, non-polluted, elevated and especially, surrounded by trees, a large forest as I love. I continue with several book fairs; I've been meeting a few visitors from MySpace during these (I thank you, by the way, for your support!). Writing-wise, I am finalizing my poetry book where I compile, where I expose my feelings about my journey in the Milky Way represented by St. James of Compostela... Soon a new novel will emerge).

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2008 A new system starts

January:  The writing of the lastest book of poems being in its final phases, my mind is from now on taken up with another project, that of my next novel. The excitement is there again, the effervescence of creating a story, of inventing characters, of weaving intrigue, of bringing the reader off of beaten paths, yes, I feel again the urge… and here, it would be safe to bet that the tendancy is orienting itself towards the fantasy category, XIXth century style, not the fantasy as we call it today with books like Eragon or Harry Potter… Latest winter readings: Le Terrier du Dragon by Donatien Moisdon and also a few short stories such as La Cafetière by Théophile Gautier, Le veston ensorcelé by Dino Buzatti and La Vénus d’Ille by Mérimée. March: publication of my 5th poetry book titled Au hasard du Chemin. The response immediately enthusiastic, the readers are very interested to know about my trial towards St. Jacques-de-Compostelle. When I read the reactions, when I meet these readers at the Book Fairs, a certain nostalgia comes over me but also a desire to communicate, to share all these moments... at the current time, I already wish to thank them and for helping me to make this work known. April: The writing of a new novel is in the works; the investment is whole-hearted; this book obsesses me already. Its atmosphere is unique; I do not know anymore if sometimes it is the author or the narrator or the hero (or all three of them at the same time) who is embarked in this story! The last book read: Le monde extraordinaire des Druides by Run Futthark, a descent into this world which stretches out its arms to me more and more.