feiz ha breiz*

The watchman on the alert, a luminous pulse on the black ink, a scourer of foam on the fishing route, traces the coastal
path with a stroke of the pen. The port before the grain, bernique on the concrete staircase, sipping the contemplative
isolation at the blue hour in a glass of white. A mackerel interlaced with laurels, the rail finally mates with the boat
in an excess of rust, traps and blue nets mate in the dread of winter in Finistère. Atlantic with dry ink, Cornish seagulls
topped by the post, salt flower on a bed of clams to dry the iodized tears at the bottom of the hold. An exacerbated beauty,
a dishevelled soul, an overflowing virility stare discourteously at the grain of sand on the edge of the billig.
France 2018. *Faith and Brittany