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 ...
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