Yesterday, between Gwylène and I, we must have covered fifty miles, just to bring Rayn and Marcus to Arianne’s magnificent place of Art residency: the art cottage at Magnolia Plantation. On a bend of the Ashley river, separated from it by a pond which could have been a rice field, this 1950’s-like wood cabin with its vast porches, some covered, some not, and its full exposure to cross winds and sun rays, screened by a canopy of giant trees … is a perfect dream-come-true for its present resident, who happens to live on a piece of land – very similar to Magnolia-land – but in a trailer. Yes, Arianne also lives on a piece of dream-land but is struggling to find a way to  build her dream-house on it! We wish her the best.

I suppose the beauty of the setup smothered the urge to do indigo with Arianne. Most of the afternoon was consumed in eating, napping, conversing. Not much work was accomplished but we decided to convene again soon. Of course, this is the assessment of an old grouch who would like to see the young follow his own trails of wasted efforts!

No judgement then. Just a sense of urgency due to age and circumstances.

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In the meantime, I devour the last 100 pages of Pétrement’s biography of Simone Weil. Her mystical temperament is invasive and takes more and more of her attention. Such mysticism is not impressing me as much as her political thinking, yet there are terribly impressive moments. And some priceless quotes.

One from Simone Pétrement:

– she was very pessimistic about the future of civilization. She foresaw a long period of decadence, she said to me “There will be no hope for men until they return to the caves.”

And from Gustave Thibon:

– “Her mouth uttered thoughts as a tree gives its fruit.”

A sense that the struggle, at this point, is elsewhere. Why attempt to generate hope now, if it will take a huge collapse of history (all the way to the caves) before we can hope again? And, why should her tree of wisdom retain its fruit? Just give them away now, … they may rot.

In her thirst for Jesus, one stand she takes against catholicism though – as she debates whether to be baptized or not – is remarkable and consolidates the consistency of her beliefs: the refusal to accept god’s the violent wrath against the enemies of the Jewish people, of which the Old Testament is replete. And the refusal to be a picky doctrinarian around elements of the many catholic rituals, because they take away from the limpid genuineness of faith. I say: good for her. Even if some of her attitudes may be verging on fanaticism. She was such a humane human creature, concerned with the humanity of humanity, that I blame her excesses on the sense she had of her own finitude. Two years before she will die, she already knows to get ready. Her excesses are like pre-expressions of her passing: loud exhalations. If I remember correctly, the last exhalation of Jesus was loud enough for the earth to shake and the skies to thunder!