Let’s make a book together

This project is about making a bridge between us (body and identification in this society and reality) and our creativity ( mind, soul, source, world of possibles). For this first book, i propose 13 abstract pictures as an inspiration for poetry, prose or differents way of expressions, as music, collage, painting, drawings, sculpture, dance… The idea is to create from this book, other books with the title ” La mechanique des fluides” and the number of the book created. You are invited to meditate in your way in front of the choosen abstract painting, and see what your soul create.

Creativity is a matter of connecting dots, building on the way something that even surprise the “creator”. Its a call from another world, that we can answer by beeing open and tuned to it. This is why i mantion meditation, because, we may somehow find a way to disconect from pregugments and limited definitions of things, to see what secret lies inside of us, then we even learn something about ourselves.

That is one the great outcomes of art in general; the revelation of some hidden aspect of us. If we see art as a tool, we can be gratfull of the differents ways that life show us that there is ways out this box. There is windows to open. there is something bigger. this bigger thing is not specialy outhere.

Feel free to send me a mail, to ask a printable size ( max A3 )to have it for you ( i recomand you to print in black and “white” on a golden or silver printable paper as the book)

Coral waves rise and raise,
Water rushing from a cave…
From aside splashes and sprays
In its bold ways, mist in praise… 

Melancholic cold melody, a miss prays :
A mermaid, who weeps on her fate
Stacked between odd realities, free of faith
Washed, smashed on the old land of fake
Watches from her damp secret depths, the maid
Wonders, what for is she made ? 

A ship, suddenly appears in the storm,
The rain rushing everywhere from,
Covered in algae, like her, ocean born 
But fighting fierce, without trace of mourn !

She forgets her salty tears and her sweet fears
To mix with the salt waters, as the dear
Slides back in the sea to go see…
Witnesses the men that, with strength and glee
Hold on tight on the ropes that hold on those wind-sheets
That the wind deploys against them, again and again

Until finally a lightning rips, the sail is broken !
And in the movement, all of a sudden
Falls in the waves one man,
Almost silent in the stormy rain…

She rushes towards him and waves
 His short hair raising with the waves
His beard moving like algaes
His eyes shut tight in the tide…
She feels something is not right
Grabs him, she guides him high,
Easily, underwater, he’s so light,
All the way up to the seaside.
He coughs out water and opens his eyes
To look back at her, dark but so bright…

The seaman and the mermaid now might
Make secret love in the dead of the night 

By Mayra

Goûte hier 

La pluie goutte comme de la peinture
Qui transcende la réflexion transparente
Du ciel de cendre
De la ville vide de sens –
Dès qu’elle s’élève et se lance
Elle se lasse et s’épanche
Retombe, se condense et recommence
Sans une seconde pour que les plaies se pansent :
Ne pensant qu’à sa propre panse
Les animaux ne sont plus que des peaux
Que de la viande s’ils ne font pas les beaux
Les personnes ne sont plus que des pots
Peinturlurés, car allure et parure n’en font rire que peu
On crache sur les idéaux comme sur les hideux
Dans l’ombre, le chaos sombre ambitionne au mieux
Tout le monde veut paraître heureux
Pas être
Au plafond la lumière dégoûte
Au plus profond, nous couvre de doutes
Car au fond, somme toute
Nous ne sommes qu’une goutte
Et on recommence encore, en boucle
Jusqu’à la mort qu’on redoute

By Mayra

Behind his mask and his mustache
Is his secret chaotic stash
Where love, despair, cash
Ideas and fears hatch
Spikes of hatred attack
Because he felt your remark
Was unfair to his part
And he retreats in is heart
From this bloody battle field
Rise the most secret of his guilt
Don’t judge him over this lil’ deal
Forgive, and he’ll share his feels
In the shadowy ghosts of these hills
There is fear, here’s the bill :
If you add acceptation it will
Give peace. It will.

By Mayra

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