: goal, aim
A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse
Yesterday morning a great big soupir stopped me in my tracks and had me asking why? Why do I do what I do? What am I aiming for? Am I on the right track?
I called Mom last night and caught her ironing. Le repassage? I asked her the same question that I had asked myself that very morning: Mom, are you doing what you love? I already knew the answer, for my dear Mom would love nothing more than to paint and to pursue people (on the street, at the café, via Facebook, here, in my comments box). She loves Art and Others. Tout simplement. Yet she is inside... ironing.... She hasn't picked up a paint brush in eight months, hasn't chased down an unsuspecting stranger in weeks. Instead she irons her husband's shirts, which are coming apart at the seams.
And what about me? Am I doing what I love? I love Writing and Characters. (Well, I love characters and I think I love writing... ) I think I want to paint people via words....
This morning I wrote a story about mon enfance. Unlike other writers, I had a very happy childhood. I would now like that same carefree feeling to fly forth in my work: no rules, no regulations, only trust, play, and discovery day after day. Yes, this is what I love!
My wish is that my words and my photos will lighten hearts... while growing my own. I hope these missives will help to connect people, collapse cultural barriers, and cause more laughing and rejoicing. At the very least, I hope these journal entries will help us not to take ourselves too seriously, after all we are, deep down, more alike than we are different, you and me.
If I can give back even a chouïa of the knowledge and espérance that I receive from the readers who respond to these "every other day epistles," then perhaps my growing heart qui bat will signal I am, after all, sur le bon chemin, or on the right track.
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"The Adoration": Smokey and Braise with Uncle Jacques. (Photo taken in January. Smokey is two months "bigger" now. Leave Smokey or Braise (or Jacques) a message.
Thus the aim of art is almost divine: to bring to life again if it is writing history, to create if it is writing poetry. Le but de l’art est presque divin : ressusciter, s’il fait de l’histoire; créer, s’il fait de la poésie. Victor Hugo
le soupir = sigh
le repassage = ironing
tout simplement = quite simply
mon enfance = my childhood
un chouïa= a tiny bit
l'espérance (f) = hope
et encore = what is more
qui bat (battre) = that beats
sur le bon chemin = on the right track
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