Welcome to my Inner World. I am a French self-taught artist, and these past seventeen years I have made Norway my home. Moving to the Lofoten islands was the greatest present I ever made to myself and the Arctic landscapes are indeed a true treat for any artist’s eyes. I live with my British soulmate,… Continue Reading
Behind every mask, there is separateness and a whole truth that can only be expressed in fragments. Masks are only the surface. They can be crippling, if we identify too desperately with a mask that denies our totality. But they can just as easily reveal something extraordinary and creative about who we are. In the end, though, we have no control over what others perceive.
The Soul sails your boat through this life and into the Beyond with barely a sigh at the body’s passing. She is without fear, and has nothing to lose because She will never die. She is our most precious friend, although we are not always Hers. Her language is that of the deep, and we must listen closely to the Figurehead, who articulates the otherwise unfathomable, a guide to those who learn to listen. So ignore the Figurehead’s messages at your peril: lose your Soul, and you are left to drift, the speech of the sea and what lies beneath lost to you, the treasures of the deep diminished to an obscure and unreadable pattern of waves.
You found a little bubble of pristine joy that no needling sense of guilt or cynicism can prick. Give yourself over to it – audaciously, drunkenly, lovingly – with or without champagne. For we all need a sparkling gift of gold once in a while to wash away the gritty layers of our catastrophising and our melodramas.