I was born an afternoon of may 1949 in Paris the first day of Gemini. My father Jean named me Xavier. I am Gemini, born after twins that led me bluntly. Drawn from childhood through creativity, art and mystery, I was interested in everything, nosing about everywhere, picking up all I could.
Very quickly I collected anything, like the covers of camembert cheese with naive drawings which decorated the walls of my room. While pinning the fiftieth cover the unbearable smell brings me back to stamps and Dinky Toys. Myopic at eleven, I also collect eyeglasses, or rather the fifty ways to lose them. I forgot them, left them everywhere, I crashed them, I throw them in the garbage can, I lost them in a torrent, and I had them steal by a monkey at the Zoo de Vincennes. What Mom never wanted to believe. Various head injuries opened my fontanelle which leads me to a metaphysical way.
When twelve, in a Breton garden, I make my first conscious body outing. This radical experience forever changes my perception of the world. Teenage surprises me roaming the rooftops of Paris, a sandwich in my bag and big sky in my eyes. I spend my baccfirst degree in June 1968, hit by tear gas of nearby May, whose tub lulled time.
I joined Dany Le Rougealso callled Daniel Cohn Bendit, he was the lefty leader onf mai68 events in Paris in Nanterre University – still in ruins after the events – where I picked up my Philosophy Master.
Disappointed as many by the after May, I flew to Asia. In Macau – which was still in Portuguese China – I prepared my Masters in philosophy, aesthetics section, ie philosophy of art. I also studied Epistemology, the philosophy of science.
I completed my education by studying journalism, and got a Master of Information Science, plus IFP diploma.
After an adventurous trip to Turkey, I hung around with a dusty feet Parisian girl, Micha, who will soon become my wife. With this perfect accomplice, I explore interdisciplinary corridors of life with a broad smile. We are Knights of Dream, armed wit butterfly nets, wriggling on the threshold of adult life that fascinates and repels us.
We are suffering from Peter Pan complex – temperamental and characterized refusal to grow up. The years after 68 had a taste of defeat that does not suit us at all: we’ll spend the next ten years on the road.
“I don’t want ever to be a man,” Peter said with passion. “I want always to be a little boy and to have fun. So I ran away to Kensington Gardens and lived a long long time with the fairies.” (James Barrie)
We have been in China, India, Indonesia and Africa, with a few forays into the Gulf of Mexico and the ancient lands of the Maya. Wherever spirit was blowing, we made pilgrimages and followed the most diverse practices. Another collection – of excitement this time.
We have been running in Casamance, Senegal, under the bullets of the insurgents; roaming in post-MaoZeDong Macau, exotic hell game and sordid purgatory for dirty money; meeting the Tonton Macoutes in Haiti, on the trail of zombies and voodoo loas; gasping in a Balinese village for funeral ceremonial where all participants were high in meditation, but not a hint of sadness in the bright eyes of children. We have been travelling through Indian Kashmir for the Amarnath pilgrimage, the holy cave high in the Himalayas, the perched cavern where Lord Shiva created the world. The Spirit would open with the appropriate substances and under the guidance of appropriate masters of trance. “Wherever I travel I lose or I win.” (source)Graeme Allwright
Micha gave me two sons Loïc and Alexis – now skilled web specialists – whose help was most valuable and still is. Thank you again and again my dear sons. Randoms of life made me work on French TV – ORTF time. Then I joined the press for children. I learned my work of publisher of comics art, before starting my own business, Echo Vision, corporate communication using mainly comics. What really matters to me is the inner adventure, mind and spirit rally. Throughout my life, I have never ceased to accumulate experiences and discoveries in many different fields, all linked with paranormal activities and spirituality.
I started a new collection of riddles and mysteries, hidden things and forgotten evidences. I tried several sects, as Scientology and Sahaja Yoga ; always enthusiastic, always deceipt, I have been forging a final conviction: gurus are moldy, against-productive and dangerous.
Of course Amma hugged me, as did Lama Gendune Rinpoche. Of course the eversmiling Dalai Lama foisted me a cotton scarf, waiting in exchange a gold Rolex – forget it, rascal. No god, no master. Fervent disciple of Nietzsche, I am convinced as he was that no one need any disciple, and that those who seek a master will find death instead.
Death is the only master. Death and life, its inseparable friend, life I am crunching with good appetite before death crunches me in turn.
Now I am supposed to rest – working ten times more than before retirement. As to my findings, I put new items online, each one bringing a new stone to the cathedral. A living cathedral is being built under your eyes, recealing many surprises.
Remember that my tales are dreams, and dreams come true. It is time, my friends, it is time I take you by the heart and I give you one by one the secrets I have known in this life – as in many others. I will tell you here by my pictures and my stories. It’s time to get back to the tradition that we miss so much today.
This site and its sides have brought me more than I dared hope. Now there is another point. Later came to me an incredible gift, something that surpasses me in every way. After ten long years of incredulity, I finally took the plunge, I discovered, amazed, full of joy, the gift that gives itself and generates the gift.
We need a strong inside knowledge to face the liar science we have been forced to engulf. Welcome the inner knowledge, the end of lying science. Welcome the depth of being under the social surface. Welcome in each one the pure happiness of living wonders in an enchanted multiverse.
Be sure that if you read every page in without skipping any, you’ll know as much as I do – ie very little! At least may these memories speak to your soul and awaken one by one the distant secrets sleeping under the care of your inner dragon.
Words are a pretext. It is the inner bond that draws one person to another, not words. (Jalal ad-din Rumi)