Jean-Louis Bouzou – Text Bubbles

I don’t feel well… I had the feeling it wasn’t coming from me at all, but from you… I’ve just learned that you lost your father. All I can do is send you my thoughts, though I would so much rather tell you in person that, even though the death of those close to us takes a part of us at first, it also allows us to discover and nurture a space—long hidden in the shadow of our loved ones—that gradually leads us toward more light, growth, and wholeness…

Last night, I found myself on a snow-covered forest path. Once again, I was struck with wonder at what I experienced. My body lay warm and still, far away — a hot water bottle between my legs, buried under blankets, drifting through the night — while I, in another form, laughed at the chill, delighted by that enchanting Christmas scene. Like a child, I scooped up snow, shaping it into balls and sending them flying into the glittering white silence. And as always, when happiness finds me, I long to share it with you. So I called out, hoping you’d appear in that lucid reverie… but you did not. Perhaps it was for the best — for had you arrived, you’d have been buried beneath an avalanche of snowballs, transformed at once into my dream snowwoman.