ARTISTIC PASSION

NOTESTAFFBLK.GIF (7323 bytes)

Copyright

Every document of this site, as original object of author, is protected by the law of March 11, 1957 relative to the copies of documents.

In consequences, " all representation or complete, or partial reproduction, made without the author's consent (Richard Natter) or of his having right or having reason, is illicit ".


THE WRITING

Crayon.gif (5679 bytes)                                AG00003_.gif (10348 bytes)

           Since my youngest age, the language French always fascinated me. Maths, the science, the living languages... Nothing of all it never challenged me. On the other hand, the writings, then the dissertations, were my preferences. Of the elementary course to the VOCATIONAL TRAINING CERTIFICATE, I was always in the three first in French. That that, to the big regret of my parents, didn't erase the places of good last in all others domains; excepts that is true, sport and the artistic expression in general.

         I remember to have been excelled even in 1965 or 66 I don't know anymore, following one visit to the Museum of the Resistance of Grenoble. An inter - colleges contest were organized and it was my exposition that has been transcribed on the book of gold of the Museum. The atmosphere, the emotions, all was there to express that that the visit had engraved me at the bottom of the heart. It is everything that I search for in general in the writing. His intrinsic power to ruin the appearance to the profit of the dream!

           The writing made me dream always. To create the characters, of the situations, while giving them life, it is fabulous. I remember the title of my first " literary " test... It was " Patrice of Borellond or the present " youth! I was only 16 or seventeen years old. Thirty three years after, this memory is always anchored to the bottom of my memory. Often, I examine the manuscript that since all this time, is even intact.

         Then, poetry came to titillate me. It was upon my return of the army, in 1969. My first poems were the reflection of the uneasiness in which I was. I will speak of it for longer in the page of Poetry opening.

         Slowly but surely, I discovered my style of writing. Of a history to the other, after numerous retouchings, hesitations, refusal, I finally found the expression in which I feel at ease. What allows me to take the former texts, and to structure them according to the new bases.

         The magic of the words, the fairyland of the dreams that they cause, the passion that all it generates, there is what fascinates me. To tell a history orally, don't obtain an equal pleasure. To make be born the heroes, the imaginary places, the comical situations, by the interpreter of the novels, that is simply divine.

         It is also a manner, to escape the vicissitudes of the daily. The ugliness of the hypocrisy, the nothing of the contempt, the insolence of indifference, all disappears behind the thus created pages. Soon outlet, soon nostalgic and romantic, through histories the burst of the heart of hearts of the one that writes, springs such a diamond. On a lot of occasions, me I am surprised all alone, reliving such or such situation, while rereading a passage.

         Of all histories that I could imagine, the most often inspired of real facts it is certain, toughest is well the autobiography! The novel " Discovered of the Grant ", asked me for more five years of gestation. However, I must do homage to the evolution toward which it drove me. Authentic outlet, this novel allowed me to suppress the emotional hemorrhages that flowed out in my heart.

       Stage by stage, trial in recast, the hate, the violence, and the fear also, evaporated. Thanks to this autobiography, " Discovered of the Don ", I especially discovered the best of myself. This " Me Interior " that I offered people, without even to discern the subtleties of it. Him in not less true than that home was really very hard an exercise of style. The veracity of the subjects, must never be choked by the desire to get round the truth. The fear not to be believed, to be considered like an illuminated or a liar, never left me.

        Outside of my wife, who is, and will remain, my first privileged reader, a lot of people allowed me to modify the bases of my autobiography. Among these people, I mention under shape of homage: Ella, professor of letters; Corinne, jurist; Ursula, assistant - social; and Monique, tarologue - medium, Anne - Marie, astrologer. Thanks to their expertise, their kindness and especially their affection, I could avoid the traps, the heaviness, or even the incoherences of this Romance fetish that of the is Discovered Don ". Thick, kisses to all, and thank you for the bottom of the heart.

       Alas, as for all those and those that are in the same situation that me, to arrive to the edition is a matter for the utopia! The publishers in their whole, steady in their microcosm, don't even read the manuscripts! They answer you snide, six months after: " You don't correspond to the editorial profile of our edition " society! You speak. They don't even open the manuscripts! Here is why I decided, by the slant of the Web, to make know me. Does one ever know?

       Nevertheless, before thinking solely about me, I want to the deepest of my being, to help towards my way the humanity. The present stagnation, the inequalities and the excesses, all it upsets me. I refuse to remain mute longer. I don't want more, to be the accomplice of all schemings who makes one of all medias to scandals, especially. I push my bawling, while trying to bring some solutions however. If tomorrow, it is offered the possibility one each to express his views on life, will have maybe cleared us a step toward the ?  improvement

       Long before the novels, the poems had captivated my attention. If my memory is good, my first text goes back at the years 1960. I possess the notebook on which I had arranged all written again that I intended " to merchandise "! All small already indeed! I hold on to the ideas...

       At eleven years hardly, I surveyed the paths of the versification. While rereading my first poetic impulses, I have a tear in the corner of the eye. Clumsiness, the enthusiasm, intermixed with delight. I will ever yet, touch up one among them. What means that they will never, be published.

       The pages turned and I don't want to live with my past. The pictures that are contained in my first writings, translate that that I lived during this period. To want to actualize them, would mean for me to rape the intimacy of my childhood.

       In 1975, I was again a Fireman. During an exchange between civil servants with the city of Innsbrück, my poetry took a new dimension. We had arrived in Austria, the empty hands. Not the smallest gift to offer our counterparts! It was without counting on wealth and this people's nobility! Indeed, the first evening during the official dinner, I believed that my heart stopped beating. As I expected there, in spite of the contrary opinions of my superior, we have been covered with presents!

       If I had been thin enough, I would have gotten in a mousehole! The five days that followed, allowed me to give to my poems a size that I discovered. Modestly, I did homage to our friends Austrians, while writing a poem titled " INNSBRÜCK ", simply. Today again, more than twenty years after, I relive the stage that followed after the reading of my text during the last evening of adieus again!...

       The pictures that are engraved themselves that evening in my heart, will remain there forever. I had understood the importance of the messages that the texts were able to transport. Since, fierce self-educated, I endeavored to improve, and to structure my poems. I cannot oust either, the fact that thanks to them, during the storms during the crossings of the desert of my suffering, I could keep the head out of water. I drew in my verses, the strength to fight. While revolting me against the earth all whole, I externalized my pains.

       Of years in years, the style, the vivacity, the message himself, have been refined. It is precisely in 1987, whereas I was in prey to horrible hallucinations, that I offered to my poetry its present face; as regards to the technique solely! Because for what concerns the value of the content, this one transformed itself the day or I knew my princess, my " Bibiche " (excuse me Monique...), brief, my wife. It is to return on the knees he, the homage that it deserves, that I make him honor to be the star of the first poem on my compilation... And on the site!!!


FILES:

Artistic passion * Discovery of the Grant * Passes-Present-Future * The Blind Woman and the Black child * The Price of the love * Memories of Stage * Novels to come * 9 Propositions extracted from PPA *

INDEXES OF THE SITE:

WELCOME * WHO ARE WE PROFESSIONAL PAGES * PAGES ARTISTIC STROKES OF HEART * MUSICS