History
My maternal grandmother was standing in the garden : next to her I lived the sensuality of the earth for the first time. My mother, my grandmother’s daughter, gave me the taste of the beautiful and the requirement for integrity : one evening she put like a seed in the palm of my hand : ‘le grand troupeau’ (the big herd) by Jean Giono. My father, my mother’s husband opened me to curiosity, to necessity of doubt and to the extatic joy of effort in the mountains. My friend Anselme patiently revealed to me for 24 seasons the meaning of the gesture. They were my ecosystem. And so many other encounters. As time goes by, we are always the breeding ground of someone else. I know it now.