In the beginning, there was a hilly, beautiful and fertile land… Man as a tireless lover, said that he would love it, dig it, knead it and possess it without making it ugly ever. As to fertilize it, a large drilling gushed water from the dephts of its bowels. Water ! As an offering. Man placed it upon his lips, full of hapiness. His work would bear fruit : a life time work. At first, he must plant aigain, and aigain, and again, and plat all possible species beacause they talk with one another in such a rich language, interlacing sounds, colours and smells… He must remove the seed from its coating and press it into the wet soil with his thumb… Then, right away, he must feed it, with a drip irrigating in order to bring the thrill of life to all the parcels of this great languorous body. In front of such beautiful curves, he must use caresses only, only human hands. From his flesh that is made of earth, he must raise walls; from his har that is made of straw, he must plai roofs. he must always, always avoid hurting it. Even after so many years spent together, an error may occur so fast. Because man changes, he gains confidence, he dreams of a big yards. Now, it is also changing: it is hidden under vegetation, it is becoming modest. As to rediscover it, he must clear passages, alleys, paths, he must remember those curves that seduced him. He must leave the yards to bulldozrs and remain a loving man.

Hervé Depardieu