Everything develops and progresses.
From one point to another, the line is never straight.
From harbour to harbour, a journey.
Everything moves… as do I!
Joy and sorrow, confrontation too.
A vague point appears, hazy and confused,
A point of convergence,
The temptation of a fixed point,
In the calm of all the passions.
Point of departure and point of destination,
In what has neither beginning nor end.
Naming it, endowing it with life, giving it authority
For a better understanding of what moves
A better understanding of what Movement is.
Belle Ile en Mer