“Look Around Jane”

Monday, 26th of February 2018

When I read Jane Eyre — Helen Burns once said something full of hope and mercy to Jane:

ACS_0001 “Besides this earth, and besides the race of men, there is an invisible world and a kingdom of spirits: that world is round us, for it is everywhere; and those spirits watch us, for they are commissioned to guard us; and if we were dying in pain and shame, if scorn smote us on all sides, and hatred crushed us, angels see our tortures, recognize our innocence…, and God waits only the separation of spirit from flesh to crown us with a full reward…”. These words often cross my mind when I am in asylum from the light and true…. They always have the will to twist these moments and turn my pessimist into strength and reliance: these words and my sweet Venus.

 

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My hideaway

 

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14th of August 2016

This week, I’ve finally finished to decor my working station, I don’t even like to call it – a working space, because, for me, this place is more a hideaway, a shelter, a place of recovery than a place to work. Once in a while, I look steadily at it and I feel proud of all of this assemblage. All the flowers and the old things that I have been collecting, finding in the streets mean so much for me… Lately, I doubt so much of myself but the simple act of looking at this place makes me realize that I am capable of something, but for these results I need time… and in nowadays, we seem to have forgotten what truly means: “slow down”. Day after day, I despise more and more crowded places, cities and chaos, I would rather live in a small cute village than in a city, I long for this day so badly, but for now I’ve this improvised shelter.

I think this day deserves too a poem from Emily Brontë:

Moonlight summer moonlight

‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.

Emily Brontë