La Chrysalide

“Sloughing.
Dialog of the slough.
The silk sheath of chrysalises.
The moistness of the cocoon.
Solidarity of the cells!
Persicaria, in this book, a soprano breaks, an animal comes out. From its skin, someone dies and someone awakens.”
Jean Cocteau.

Here is the chrysalis. It is a death, a rebirth, an infinite renewal. Sloughing after sloughing, it is a destruction that gives birth to creation. Breaking one’s imago in order to live harder even. To rise from the ashes like a phoenix. To live a perpetual resumption, the quest of transcendence.

Beautiful in the mess, returning in the cocoon, tearing the cocoon, starting again. We die several times before death, and the rebirth is even more thrilling.
Here is immortalized this eternal natural waltz into the black and white, into the light. It is a momentary state, the one in which we find ourselves, and which will shape us forever.

Here is the chrysalis again. Ideal beauty that strikes fear. Our skin speaks for us, shivering, feeling, vibrating, quaking, transforming, simply being. Bewitching paradox of one self. Everything is a beginning and everything is beautiful, let’s start again.
I awaken, then I pass on, and finally I am reborn. Cycle of life, I let myself be embalmed by so much terrestrial beauty…