[Translated from the French via Google Translate. Read the original French version here.]
“For a year, maybe a little more, or less, it’s been a year, say, I discovered that sixth sense, that we are all looking for, he was there to calm us, perched on our watches clocks, is sixth sense that rocks and caress childhood. Each sound escaped from the smooth material on this disc makes chips fireflies and streams with minnows, I find the color of a metal toy, the shape of the controller, the infinity of lego. Each small tale of heart wood, I folds little notes where I noted the names of those who watched monsters under the bed, I’m sailboats, I make words. At every little syllable, I turn into the glass of water that watercolor brush and found the wise shades intimate landscapes, as in childhood, the colors were never the same, I play in the liquid to rediscover on these beaches family vacation on slabs presqu’effacée this house from my memory. Been a year since beauty is lying quietly on litters Kramies and my emotions have deciphered a fun time, read and reread until the minute, and read not to lose any drop of this mint water waltzed into my mouth yesterday and today to echo these strings vibrating guitars are fresh laughter of children on strikes, was basking in the sun pictures, and songs are the relics open jar of holy images, stolen kisses and caresses first, eyes that look inward, when there was no wall of shame, when there was nothing but a look. Kramies is a silky provocative exhibitionist linen and cotton, blurred images of dreams drunk eyes and stars, which stirs the fires of nostalgia flights beautiful words, a Peter Pan, the child has the inert core, the clock was broken, so we envy her generosity gave us flashbacks constantly on red lollipops, kites and the scent of our mothers, the skin that covers our hearts, not really protect but avoiding coldness tomorrow trifles the same day. So here’s the big secret from us, here is the lost sense of childhood, naive, ingenuous, and so powerful before being realistic fantasy, here in the heart wood, playmobil cottage, this cottage build a thirty pieces of wood fit for less than fifty years, heart to live, where the childlike life tomorrow too, and many, many thank you for this Kramies, thank you so much for our bags of marbles, so thank you our innocence.
Thank you for this gift, to offer this small little world we misled by here and there, thank you for giving us back what Wooden heart without light.”