Once I wrote, as if we were overloaded with milk, that we were getting close to the white page of the columns; we couldn't keep it there, we couldn't stop explaining it. They seem to be written in a hurry to be read in a hurry. We already said that there were things to leave for later, no matter how painful they were, that they could not shape. All the columnists see each other from time to time making columns, without being able to choose between so many horrors. There are also columns “I can’t do more”. There are also days “I can’t do more”, weeks.

But drop by drop… One brings you a plant, a small cacti, because it knows you're not going to water. Another one has sent you a photo of mushroom taken in his favorite valley. A song, a cursylist, a sufficient course. Before the meeting began, one hand held on his, raised his head and a gaze, holding you down. Message from a student “thank you for the confidence you give us”. He had handed out a letter from his hand, with the paper ruined in a circle, as if it were to be handed over to a dog. But it's an amulet that excites him from his pocket. A meal on your balcony, sit on the cushions and empty the Martin bottle. Quiet, I'll be with the child. A neighbor holding the door of the portal to pass you and your baby and smiling at you, “cheer.” Some chords on his guitar.

There are also days “I can’t do more”, weeks. And in order to do that, you have to look out the window and know how to identify beauty. Sometimes it's heaven, sometimes a nougat of chocolate. But it's usually a gesture by a member of the human species that has disappointed us. And when I can breathe beauty, I feel very smart. Beauty is the most important subject. Look at it.