There is something that I must tell you. If I do not, I feel that I finish by not to write here. I have had very difficult to find my words, so if I am awkward, I hope that it does hold me not too strict.
Writing is a strange thing. Often, author's fire all wood for inspiration. He uses everything it sees, what he meant, confidences, divers… facts To give rise to situations, captivating characters, everything is good to take. I have with this "all", a kind of… moral difficulty I can't exceed.
Thus, I am sorry every day have not kept the anonymity on cashmere & silk. When I think to everything that I could speak freely here, I have Vertigo. But what is done is done. Then to maintain my reserves of ideas, I explore what happens to me, to me. Any new situation opened opportunities unexpected, changes in point of view, of opinion… This is exciting to explore.
It matters little that what happens in my life is sad, difficult, happy, or simply happy. From my point of view of copyright, it's just interesting (from my point of view of Anne-Solange, is, of course not the case). At the time where I decided to make the story here, I do that using a material: I choose an angle, a point of view, a "color" to transcribe. That which follows draws its source of an event lived or not has no importance to me. The only thing that counts for me is to transcribe an idea and this idea reaches print a little something in one read.
This is to explain that, even if most of the time I am speaking here in the first person, even if I speak in General of events that affect me personally, I am very great distinction between the author of this blog and myself. And well, I feel that this is not the way that the small texts I write here are received.
Thus, by reading your messages, following the last tickets, even if I am inevitably touched by so much kindness, I feel also terribly embarrassed. These texts which had not found me indecent (unless so in this case, the second was a pure fiction, and even without going up there, I am writing here in any subjectivity, what makes each ticket, in essence, a form of fiction), these texts that had me indecent appeared to step therefore, became in my eyes, with read messages aimed not to the author of this blog, but my own. What makes a big difference.
But if I cannot leave me the freedom to make also the story of these things here, it's simple: I have more than to close cashmere & silk, that I do not want. The only solution that come me to mind now is to close the comments module.
Even if it is symbolically - each is free to contact me by other means (twitter, messagerie…) if it wishes - cutting this direct link traditionally on a blog between the author and readers, it seems to me that the distinction between what I write (which is a public space) and that I am (which is not) will be more clear.
As of today, the comments are therefore more accessible. I am well aware that this is a rather poorly perceived initiative in General, blogs, and I can already say that the small so sweet words some of you will miss me, and tracks of lectures, addresses or travel advice I only hope that these lines have convinced you that it is in no case a door are you claquerait to the nose.