"I'm not in Kansas anymore!"

What is 'childhood'? It is believed that childhood is a period of life that, therefore, comes to an end one day. However, there are moments in our life that make us feel like that little boy at the corner store, that innocent girl on the playground, the happy toddler at the candy shop once again. 

Today, I had the pleasure to relive such a moment. 

When I was a child, I admired fairy tales. They captured me during the day and the night, they made me dream of countries far away, witches, goblins, fairies and elves. Like every child, I loved imagining my own world, sinking completely in the magic of the story and identify with the protagonists of the tale. 

Strangely enough I was most fascinated by stories that had obviously been written by drug addicts. 'Alice's adventures in Wonderland', though a great piece of literature, was evidently created during an Absinthe- or shroom-flush. Getting lost all alone in a strange and somehow dangerous labyrinth, being chased by creatures of the darkest descents and mellowest heavens - nightmare and dream of everyone. 

Whatever.....

Dorothy's story captivated me the most. Was it the tornados? Or that paradox kind of magic that can be seen in "The Wizard of Oz" that has nothing to do with sorcery in 'European' fairy tales? Was it just the music and the costumes? What is it that attracted my in such a way? I think, all these factors made "Oz" that appealing to me. A wide country, unknown, never visited before, far over the rainbow. 

If anyone wants to feel like a child once again, I would strongly recommend watching the movie. Or if you like a huge portion of kitsch. Or if you just like Judy Garland. 

...

Or the wicked witch of the West. ^^

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhzbzwPNgXA

Les jours fondrent...

Une fois libre, je n'aurais jamais attendu cette monotonie qui me vexe ces jours... J'ai un bon temps, mais l'octobre est encore si loin...

On regarde des films, on lit, on sort, on mange, on boit, on fume. Mais est-ce ce que je ne retrouvais pas pendant ces neuf moins d'esclavage? je n'en suis pas sûr. Le temps passe si vite mais rien ne se passe.

Les jours remplacent les nuits et les matins s'approchent aux soirs. Mais rien ne se passe. Et je reste ici, en liberté, mais capturé par l'impatience. Par un sentiment qui est avide du nouveau, avare par tout ce qu'il possède, mais mécontent à cause de tout ce qui lui manque.

2 moins de plus. Au moins, c'est l'été. Pourtant, le soleil souriant et les oiseaux chantants me rendent le temps plus long. J'ai marre d'attendre. Vive l'octobre!

...

Je ne sais pas pourquoi. Mais je me sens comme un danseur, qui chaloupe dans le rythme d'une musique qu'il ne peut en fait pas suivre. Pour me faire comprendre mieux, je veux présenter un petit vidéo d'une choréographie que je viens de voir à Vienne avec une "compagnonne d'infortune":










See you, space cowboys...