Editorial
I feel like I can touch the thickness, the texture of a sound, a glance, a movement, that I can listen to smells, sniff the sweetness, taste a landscape. In fact, I have the sensation that everything merges together, delighfully everything is both melted and melodious as in a single impulse, and at the same time very distinctive, unique, identitary, each encounter truly embodying what a signature is, in its way of being, of living, of making wine, or cheese, and all contributing to play the same score, or paint the same painting, write the same book in the manner of exquisite corpses, with small touches, and thus was written and born this third Chassez le Naturel of which I am learning to be proud every day, of its energy, its exhilaration, its music, its attitude, and which tells, in sentences sometimes punctuated and sometimes not, what has often been transmitted to me without really deciding to transmit it to me, the emotions I have felt, the thoughts that have crossed my mind, the weather, the torrential rain, when it crackles in the sky, the burning desire to live, a fabric on the skin, a bite in the figs, the indolent vines, the lascivious fruits, the shrill laughter, the wines that awaken, the roads, following the rhythm of nature, of the seasons, of the week, letting oneself be dragged along, deciding to go, and the goosebumps spreading diligently over the body. Today, wine is in my head and my mouth, a material, free, strong, noisy, a mille-feuille, that opens, embarks, that moves, a material full of spirit, therefore, embodied, both a means and an end, a density that makes you think, travel, dream, remember, meet, feel, grow, and thirst or appetite are always just a matter of life.