My blogs

Light footprints

About me

Introduction	For many years, I had a postcard on my wall of a young Peruvian boy on a mountain path, playing the flute as he walked with determination. It got lost in one of my many moves between countries, from France to Switzerland, to Shetland, Scotland, finally England... I used to draw pictures of roads vanishing in the distance. In the foreground a person sitting underneath a tree would contemplate the horizon, the orb of the sun or the moon, round and full above the quiet landscape. My wandering longings, my nomadic soul were at odds with the demands of everyday life. Maybe I was not ready. I've always felt most alive when on the move, with the sweet solitude of being transient, watching windows light up in the twilight, families around the fireplace. Oh, it is at odds with the person in me who likes to store jams in the pantry and grow lettuce and herbs in the garden. But now, I am done with working. I can be a nomad. I can write and dream and sing in an ever-changing present. Before it is too late, while health and energy are still with me. Fingers crossed! And the road, and the people met on my path, will show me the way.

Introduction

For many years, I had a postcard on my wall of a young Peruvian boy on a mountain path, playing the flute as he walked with determination. It got lost in one of my many moves between countries, from France to Switzerland, to Shetland, Scotland, finally England... I used to draw pictures of roads vanishing in the distance. In the foreground a person sitting underneath a tree would contemplate the horizon, the orb of the sun or the moon, round and full above the quiet landscape. My wandering longings, my nomadic soul were at odds with the demands of everyday life. Maybe I was not ready. I've always felt most alive when on the move, with the sweet solitude of being transient, watching windows light up in the twilight, families around the fireplace. Oh, it is at odds with the person in me who likes to store jams in the pantry and grow lettuce and herbs in the garden. But now, I am done with working. I can be a nomad. I can write and dream and sing in an ever-changing present. Before it is too late, while health and energy are still with me. Fingers crossed! And the road, and the people met on my path, will show me the way.