I am pleased to invite you to the first night of philosophy and arts of the French Institute in Tel Aviv.

Saturday May 23rd 8:53.

Wednesday May 20th 8:40, And there was evening, and there was morning - the fourth day.

Monday May 18th 18:17, the relief of a first day completed, a semblance of routine not to totally slide, some landmarks, the table from witch I write those lines, the branches grabbed and placed on a closet to figurate the french institut bookcase.

Sunday May 17th from memory: I woke up over the sea, comforted by what was earned ans maybe not deserved, surrounded, loved maybe, questioning what the moment was made of, a normality, a minute after an other , ce qui when each moment seems to be a définitive truth.