Archives d’auteur : Stina

À propos de Stina

If I could tell you about me in a neat and tidy definitive statement, I don't think I'd be writing this blog.

La tigresse

The mighty Sun spills in with quiet power through my frosted, dirty window and open blinds. I can feel a radiant beauty envelope me; I am alight, energizing, eyes closed. I stop marking my students’ work, I stop worrying about … Lire la suite

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Pupa

Already, I don’t even remember what I wrote in that damn book. My memory is wonderfully weak that way. It’s why I wrote it, after all. To remember at all that extraordinary thing that I did. And what a gift … Lire la suite

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David

One, two, three glasses of red wine as I sat alone and listened to the jazz band. It was a warm, October afternoon. Four glasses of red wine. Well, you know what’s next. A cigarette. But I don’t smoke in … Lire la suite

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While you were sleeping…

On the verge of selling my car almost four years ago, I said to myself: « You won’t be able to act like a little asshole anymore. » No more late nights, no more sleeping in until the very, very last minute, … Lire la suite

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Swim to shore

I have written before about my absolute frustration, my maddening disbelief, at people who do not allow lows. I am currently reading Hammerklavier, a novel from Yasmina Reza. It is a somber but refreshing book about death, in all its … Lire la suite

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Walls become welds

It is my last two days in Paris, the sun is shining, what shall I do before meeting A— at five near Gate de l’Est? I am a bit anxious about meeting her. I have dropped in on some friends … Lire la suite

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Paris, day eight

Le jour de l’an, 2017 No meat, no milk, no eggs. Daily meditation, exercise and water. Lots of water. Lots of breathing, C——–. No more rage. Oh, just let it go, let it all go! Be kind. Be silent. Smile. … Lire la suite

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