FATIGUE. Exhausted, worn out, but not dead.

FEET. The earth is sometimes hard, burnt, moved with the heavens or Promised. Above all, it is there, under our feet. Holy and to be protected.

FIELD. Ploughed, cultivated and always honoured, the fields of the North of France have found peace again.

FLOORCLOTH. Hung on the brush against the wall , the rinsed floorcloth loses its water, coming to rest after washing the floors of the house.

GOD. The call to prayer came through my bedroom window, like a wake-up call. Then four times a day in the Cairo streets. And there was the immense desert, where I realised that God does not live in towns or cities but in open spaces. God is great.

GREEN SPACES. The machetes are dirty and a little rusty, but nowadays they cut the grass.

GROUND. On the ground, gravity soothes my body. Sitting, contemplating the horizon. Giving oneself time, resting time. Forgetting neglected ground, forgetting the earth that covers buried loved ones. Grounded, at rest.

HEAVEN. I shall not go to heaven, I want to stay on earth. On the grassy meadows, in the peat of the marshes, in the waters of the Loire and the Atlantic.

KINSHASA. Placed on the ground as if it had no foundations, Kinshasa was born yesterday evening. Large areas of small homes; no large buildings. Little tarmac, no public transport as yet, no refuse collection as yet, but a great deal of green. Vegetation-green, dense and damp, ready to absorb the town. Kinshasa was born yesterday evening.

LANDSCAPE. On foot, through my eyes, far or near, I live the landscape.

LIFE. Yes to art, but to life above all.

MARY. This woman mourns for her son, but she is forever with the living. Our loved ones leave us and we have to live.

MOUNTAIN. The mountain is placed on the ground. Thanks to all those hands searching for coal below, the mountain is born beneath the earth.

NANTES. When I return to Nantes I contemplate the Loire river and I feel good on the edge of the world.