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formerly publi?hez Fata-Morgana It n&rsquo.est not difficult of d?acer its workshop in gr.?. The surface of the table is perfectly white, nettoy??&rsquo.alcool. The industrial feathers are not enough any more, one needs s&rsquo.inventer tools which fid?ment follow all the worlds which guide them. Fifteen ann? d&rsquo.atelier for synth?ser this thing, an open secret, wire?ouper butter, but essential, n?ssaire at the point of my research. Did a feather of twenty centim?es broad, a vast inkpot like a salad bowl, paper sheets moreover d&rsquo.un m?e carr?Si a penholder owe?e attach? this feather of Gargantua, it should measure at least ten feet length. The programme of these two working hours n&rsquo.est not tr?compliqu? arm?e this, I go?anger only of T, in a caract? tr?ancian, an uncial Carolingian. These T go succ?r, to superimpose themselves, s&rsquo.interp?trer, compl?r, to harm themselves. They will leave the framework, to leave l&rsquo.horizontalit??lue with the text, s&rsquo.?rer.. T r?me?ui all alone all calligraphic art, a horizontal line, a vertical line, a line, the bracket and a curve, the paunch. It is the co?idence of the horizontalit?t of the verticalit?la conjunction of the oppos? the meeting of the other, You imperceptible?amais You other. Of a oil-can, I pour a net d&rsquo.eau pure on the felt. Thus will j&rsquo.obtiendrai a feature with several nuances of blue and one to liser?oir. Vast feather well ARM? I lean on sheet Lana the paper, I maintenances?uelques centim?es of his surface the spatula imbib?de this dark liquid. When all the possible ones are in my fingers, but qu&rsquo.il is necessary to choose one of them. One T, c&rsquo.est an bracket and a paunch. Horizontal with a pointed apex and curve, and an arc which finishes exactly as it starts. Before launching out, the form, the length, the pressure of the feather, the d?t of l&rsquo.encre owe?e anticip? v?s. I know that the perfection of what will follow will d?ndra of this less moment-l?La pens?parasite and the letter is G?? All the work of the calligrapher is in this moment-l?Puis comes l&rsquo.instant fugacious o?&rsquo.on d?de. The gesture benefits d&rsquo.une tr?t?e fen?e from shooting for s&rsquo.?ler on white surface. Front, I n&rsquo.?is not Pr? apr? all the qualit?e the concentration s&rsquo.?nouit. Does L&rsquo.art d&rsquo.?anger hold?ette facult?e d?sion., which knows?uel exactly urgent it owes d?cher its fl?e in the c&oelig.ur of the peasant d?n? who threatens it, him and his friends........ I descend the hand towards paper, I maintenances firmly the spatula. Left C&rsquo.est, l&rsquo.apex s&rsquo.arrondit, the bracket stiffens, l&rsquo.empattement leaves surface. When the feature starts, one l&rsquo.entame not like that. The feature comes by far, which makes the hand, c&rsquo.est simply to return in the movement. It seizes it with the flight, embo? its vitalit?On n&rsquo.imagine not a feature which would begin d&rsquo.une mani? statics. One would obtain, m? if the r?ltat appeared beautiful, a p? died, an useless spot. As in fencing, one does not plant his sabre in the belly of l&rsquo.adversaire without advancing towards him, without splitting itself. The feather lands on paper, exactly like a plane does it, carefully but with d?rmination. Like a plane still, it comes by far. I say qu&rsquo.elle comes from l&rsquo.infini. The axis of the letter in progress is the axis of the column vert?ale. These sym?ic lines of the graph and the body are superimposed, are coupled. The hand, like a?lon motiv?ar the race, d?re always the r?site, the obstacles, hedges, the rivi?s which block its way. One does not finish either a feature n&rsquo.importe how. Penmanship is an art d&rsquo.une great courtesy. When a feature is begun, one owes s&rsquo.annoncer, one should not arrive?' improviste.. then, when one s&rsquo.en goes, when the sheet is left, one does not spin?&rsquo.anglaise. The feature s&rsquo.ach? not by a tail-of-fish footing, a fine curve marks its term in a d??xtr?. The feather d?lle of paper and the gesture are prolonged much further that the letter. Coming from l&rsquo.infini, it joined l&rsquo.infini......... Penmanship in China, to Japan, in Iraq, in Isra?et today in Europe, is exposed. Galleries, driven?, like one does it watercolours or gouaches of the &oelig.uvres frame calligraphers. However, it is so much?ang? ?' universe of the painters. Does the painter touch the fabric of his brush, adds or withdraws, superimposes or scrapes nuances, until?btenir the d?r effects? A table achev?st a succession of repentances. The difficult?e painting is of knowing when arr?r this assembly, when a fabric is termin? Penmanship does not support the repentances, one never returns on a letter. Is paper fid? but pitiless. Any final improvement jumps to the eyes. Very begun again feature appara?comme a fault, as one swindles of the artist. The painter and calligrapher choose two?ic all?ait diff?ntes. The painter by his ma?ise of the final improvement is in the repentance. He believes that he will be able to modify the world, touches apr?touche, taken again apr?reprise. He changes the world by s?es of errors. In that it is more human than the calligrapher. Its d?rche is never finished, since one can always add painting here or l?Le painter?lue according to the mati?s which it orders and by superposition insufflates its perfection. It believes that the world is perfectible. But this perfection will be the cons?ence of its personal change and int?or. To change the world, changes -m?. The art which is closest for him is the music. A note is lanc?dans the atmosph?, nothing it arr?. For?ter the duck, the pianist from the early childhood to the sc?s international r?te?' infinite its exercises, its ranges. To play perfectly a simple invention of Bach, it takes at least ten years of daily work. Is the psychic tension in a concert the m? what that of the calligrapher who appr? ?ancer its features. To render comprehensible what is the art of?anger, the young apprentice calligrapher in Iraq must include/understand the length of the feature of the?a dur?du A when it is psalmodi? the naked voice. This A owes?ndre a whole expiry on paper as in the air which produces the sounds tr?belle us?que the correspondences of the music and penmanship. Do the music and penmanship use the m? tool, the reed. Because of a m? pi? of can this plant, one make a fl? or a calame. The sound like the feature saw a d?t, a prolongation and an end. Sometimes one reconna?un simple musician?a?ute of an agreement. The attack which corresponds?' apex of the letter, is the moment most dangerous and difficult, all the sound which will follow will be d?rmin?ar the qualit?e its ex?tion. The body meaning of I could all?ait to occur from the apex, but we would not have in front of our eyes that a impudic vertical bar. The sound ach? not either without courtesy. Mani? of which a musician ach? a note will d?ndra all interstitial silence between two sounds. The musicalit?plus that music, d?nd of the qualit?e these silences. The footing ends in its end d??u vacuum between the letters, and these vacuums, these white will make breathe the textile of meaning. every moment of the life, one believes to include/understand what occurs when a letter is formed. This pride came well, because without him never one could not advance. One believes to include/understand, but the ann? passer by, one s&rsquo.aper?t that this we thought?ropos of the gesture d&rsquo.?anger, n&rsquo.?it qu&rsquo.approximatif. Nobody n&rsquo.imagine the simple complexit?oute of the trac?e l&rsquo.apex of A of the Caroline. All these contradictory tensions in this tiny movement. Under my eyes, by the black of l&rsquo.encre and the white of paper, a movement is marked. An inexorable movement, trac? the life?a dead, heavy of the weight of the tradition but also l?r of the breath of the cr?ivit?Je n&rsquo.aime not Greek l&rsquo.?mology of the word penmanship. It seems to me r?anger consid?blement the port?de this Article field of l&rsquo.esth?que very hell?que. I him pr?re the Arab word tr?simple and tr?mat?aliste.:. Is penmanship l&rsquo.art to make features with a?ranchant tool producing the full ones and D?? This technique can produce only lines and curves on paper sheets. But these lines, these curves, these full, these d??se make moving........ J&rsquo.irai further the Arabs in the d?nition of penmanship, I would say qu&rsquo.elle is l&rsquo.art movement. And by d?nition the movement is inexpressible. One can never make the m twice? movement........ On my sheet D? are ten T couch? Vast T which s&rsquo.emm?nt, which largely d?rdent framework. The blue ones when they cross are saturated and moired, form wells o?&rsquo.&oelig.il bathes in the f?cit?Je take retreat, for better looking at. J&rsquo.entends again the cicadas, I feel new l&rsquo.origan froiss?........ J&rsquo.observe a long moment, these brackets and these paunches enchev??. I n&rsquo.arrive still not?omprendre why I am fascin?ar the letters. J&rsquo.ai sometimes of the r?nses done everything for the curious ones, but in v?t?e do not know. The feature draws its ink from l&rsquo.ineffable. M? oldest of the calligraphers, lost in scriptorium of its hut of mountain, remains dumb in front of its force. S&rsquo.il did not live this dumbness, it would leave l?es brushes and its feathers. Does the calligrapher when it take a step in arri? is in love with the curves and lines qu&rsquo.il has just produced. Certain people will think qu&rsquo.il s&rsquo.agit l?&rsquo.un pride d?sur?Le scribe gives again the movement with the signs, as l&rsquo.amant yields with the full movements of the hips of l&rsquo.Aim? One can nothing say movement, one can only the food. And yet in soft to d?spoir, one must do everything for l&rsquo.exprimer and include/understand it. To teach does profond?nt assistance the appr?nsion of this passage of the calame on the v?n. One try according to each?ve by strat?es diff?nci? to express this myst? and while speaking, one touches the ab? who exists between the gesture and the statement. But the miracle comes when, malgr?e d?lage, the?ve includes/understands and progresses. each s?ce, the?ves were to reproduce what the ma?e ex?tait in front of them. In China, not of long speeches, to speak about the hooks and bones of the id?rammes. To attentively observe this fact l&rsquo.ancian in front of you. One day, my friend, forgot at it her brushes. The ma?e offered that to him qu&rsquo.il used daily. The?ves around laughed at it and s&rsquo.en?nn?nt. Around me, ten large sheets are plaqu? on the ground by stones, so that the wind does not carry them. My feathers satur? pigments of the Indian ink. This evening, I will take again all and s?ctionnerai what is good?arder and what is?eter. My young girl and my wife leave their torpor. Another journ?s' starts, of beach, sand, walk in the olive-trees, th?ris to the feet of cliffs of M?oni. Then the meal?r?rer, the ground?alayer, the races?aire at the village. But, the caresses which I made?on paper. with the felt of my feathers do not have me laiss?ndemne. I like these mati?s, the wood of the penholders, the m?l of my r?es, the bak?te of my pens, the c?mique one of the pot?au. I like to lay out them in nice a d?rdre in their case of. I like to know that all that I can do, that all my life of calligrapher holds?a smallness of this case. That I go do not import o?en holidays or on a studious journey, I can that I could always work, live again. L?a quitt?on reads and comes to see what its dad could well do during the nap. It applauds I have at least an admiror........ Some are afraid of l?er a feature on a simple paper sheet. They hold carries it feather as one clutches?ne plant for not d?sser of a cliff. They are afraid, but of what. If they miss their gesture nobody will not punish them, nobody will pass derri? them to plant a cold blade in their back. They will have at most lost the price of one or two boards of beautiful paper and some drops of inks. However, they are right to panic. If they miss their feature, it east can -?e their life which they miss. to pass?? does time?'?e more in time, contemporaries of their actions, their vitalit?Une letter, left by part fit in the lin?it?comme HT? of a ricercar. The time of died and the life time merge. One can say only it arr? or that it fige&hellip. it suspends the impossible ones into impossible which however is objectified. Of feature in feature, it digs our tomb, it plows its very alive swell our callous body for the harvests of?rnit?Paradoxes without end, put in ab?s......... And if the life could?e v?e like a feature. The smallone, the shower, the brushing of the teeth, morning wee, the m?ge of the pi?s, races with the car. All these things which one makes tous.les.jours. What do we live without arr? That we start with the d?r imm?at us in d?rrasser. Then to carry does this cup?a stop, to feel the heat of the th?ur the l?es, the ti?ur of the pottery, the rugosit?u edge of the cup and the softness of its sigill? Then to aspire the liquid, humer roundness of its ar?s, and to swallow infusion of the green sheets like if we had l?la pr?euse panac?. Us to surround of simple and beautiful objects, adapt??a hand?a stops, with the arms, the buttocks, the feet. I remember last winter, the town hall of Obernai, pr?de Strasbourg, had made me come in his biblioth?e to give a calligraphic spectacle. I was to surround me of my clean &oelig.uvres on large sheets and to thus invade a a whole Sc?. The spectators?a fine?ient rest?un long moment?dmirer the monograms?l?sur the ground and?e to speak. At did the end of the apr?midi, fen?e of my h?l, I observe, open - it?it the F? annual of the city - which arranged its?lage candies. Did the night come, its truck?it gar?uste?? of him. His gesture?it of such a pr?sion and such a beaut?ue I cried about it almost. It accompanied the black balls, it lived each one of their d?acements. No follower of Ta?hi could pr?ndre?ne so deep beaut?estuelle. I left my room, descended the few stairs from the h?l, will p?trai the street and asked for?on ma?e one T? of n?e for a frank and fifty centimes. It tightened it to me with a smile, of a curved epic, of its hand?isse and good. All that for less than two franks. When its sugar melted in my throat, I included/understood the chr?ens which eat their God every Sunday. And if the life could?e v?e like a feature. If the r?tition?it more girl of the routine. On what to support us if not these time which are lived and revive themselves without arr? On this possibilit?e to perfect day in day the beaut?es small riens. us to become violonists of our brushes, sculptors of our pans. us to model our loves with all the attention of the calligrapher. Puiss?e food like a feature, well cal?ur the v?n of the R?, well imbib?e the ink of the life, maintained well stylet of the d?r. Puiss?e to die like milks it leaves paper, in end d??de the infinite one towards the infinite one, from invisible towards invisible the training courses with Tina Bosi?a Green Falaise?erre of the sky with Tina Bosi.