Author Archives: admin

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  string(28) "(FR) Concours de WC Auderset"
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Souvent on me dit:
- "Hey Alain! Ta BD, on l'a mise aux toilettes, là c'est sûr que les invités vont la lire !!!"
(genre ils leurs donnent de la nourriture périmée pour qu'ils y soient le plus longtemps possible!)
 
Et voici que sur Facebook, quelqu'un me dit:
qu'ils ont carrément customisé, ( remasterisé, Tunné, transformé, muté, ect..)
leur WC en BD Auderset ! 
Alors voilà,le concours est lancé:

Envoyez vos photos ! Je les mettrai régulièrement en ligne!

et à ceux qui auront les WC les plus belles, originales, démesurées, folles, efficaces, etc 

je leur envoie minimum une BD dédicacée avec des WC !
Les WC de Célia Dietrich
(ici le thème noir/blanc d'Idées reçues)
Nous vous en avions parlé, ça y est ! Nous avons refait nos WC avec un thème : l'univers Auderset ! Ou comment faire réfléchir nos invités sur le thème qui nous est le plus cher, la foi, dans l'endroit où ils s'y attendent le moins - et comment faire connaître le talent d'Alain à pleins de gens ! Les WC Auderset, avouez que ce sont les premiers au monde !?!
Alain, on a le droit à un autographe ou même à un dessin original pour mettre sous verre? Si tu veux venir couper le ruban rouge aussi on peut organiser un vernissage !
A tous les autres : vous êtes invités à l'exposition permanente, c'est gratuit et on vous paiera même un thé/café !

[:de][:en][:]"
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  string(6743) "1st day (an encounter with...)


Saahsal on the mountain (a rock band)

Night had already begun to fall upon the towering mountain ranges of Switzerland, transforming them into an immensely imposing and somber mass. The brightly-lit villages nestling on the mountainsides and the town at their feet shone like fiery red lava flows.

The journey seemed to go on for ever, with our old bus (which I fear is not long for this world) hauling behind it a trailer filled with anti-blues bombs (some people also call it music and sound equipment). Our tortuous ascent takes us up narrow roads and hairpin bends. I drink in the deliciously unreal beauty of the countryside. It feels like I’m in a fantasy film. This evening we have a death-defying mission in a bar: 

turn up those decibels !

 

2nd day (living with...)
The invisible world


The next day, I was walking by myself in this fascinating upland forest in search of some peace and quiet and the chance to talk to God. All around me is foggy, just like my brain after last night’s concert


Supposedly, behind this thick veil of fog looms the majestic Alps, masters of all they survey, their streams bringing life-giving water that sustains EVERYTHING that lives... 
But today, I can’t see a THING !
Behind our thick veil of disbelief down here, 
You are also present...
Oh! Lord, I can’t wait to see you as you really are....
 

The forest-dweller


I have the sensation that I’m being watched... (I get the same feeling when I’m on stage) Oh! Just in front of me, stock-still and squatting upon two legs, a squirrel is looking at me, weighing me up. I know the slightest sudden movement will break the spell.
Sometimes we liken the Creator’s intelligence to that of an incredibly powerful computer (not running on Windows, OK!!!). This image is doubly misleading because God is so much more powerful than that, and, above all, a computer operates according to an unbending, cold set of rules... whereas God is sensitive, just like this squi... Oops ! Where did he go ?!

    The onset of night is already dissipating the last glimmers of daylight, the spotlights on the stage at the fashionable club where we’re about to play take over. The squirrel seems to have followed me – how strange...
3rd day (face to face with...)
Time for the long journey home


    The next day, we load up our rickety means of transport (including our mementoes). We set off, waving our last goodbyes to all those who made us so welcome...and at this exact moment, the mountain decides to show itself to us in all its splendor...
Gasps of admiration break out ! This WONDROUS BEAUTY was there, so close by, but up to then, we hadn’t seen it !!! The last wisps of clouds disappear from the summits, their smoky, vaporous quality almost making you think the mountain was boiling hot.
I arrived back home. I know that my Creator is already here, like a gigantic, invisible mountain...
Maybe, without any forewarning... 
 
I will see Him.
Alain"
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Saahsal sur la Montagne (c un groupe de rock)

La nuit nous avait précédés au pays des montagnes géantes.
Si bien qu’elles s'étaient mutées en d'immenses et imposantes masses noires.
Les villages illuminés à leur flan et la ville à leurs pieds resplendissaient telles des coulées de laves rougeoyantes.

Notre vieux bus en fin de vie tirait une remorque remplie d'explosif à dépression (autrement dit: du matos de musique)
nous grimpions péniblement sillonnant de petites routes.
J'avais l'impression d'être dans un film fantastique
et ce même soir on avait une mission: tout faire péter!

2ème jour (vie avec...)
Le monde invisible
Le lendemain, seul, je me promène dans cette fascinante forêt des hauteurs pour être tranquille et parler à Dieu.
Tout est embrumé comme dans mon cerveau après cette nuit de concert
( j'ai la tête dans le... là ou le bas du dos perd son nom, coa)

On m'a dit que derrière cette épaisse masse de brume trônent en maîtres absolus sur le paysage les Alpes majestueuses,
généreuses, nourrissant d'eau vive via ses torrents TOUT...mais aujourd'hui, je ne voit RIEN !

Derrière notre épaisse masse d'incrédulité d'ici bas... tu es là toi aussi...
Oh Seigneur, il me tarde de te voir vraiment....

L'habitant de la forêt
Je me sens observé... (ça m'arrive sur scène aussi)
Oh ! en face de moi, immobile, campé sur ses deux pattes un écureuil me jauge du regard.
Je sais que le moindre geste brusque mettra fin à la magie.

On compare parfois l’intelligence du Créateur à un ordinateur (sans Windows, OK!!!) surpuissant,
cette image est deux fois fausse, car il est bien au-delà,
et surtout l'ordi est d'une logique implacable, froide...
Alors que le Seigneur est quelqu'un de sensible comme cet écu... Oups! Il est où?!

La nuit déjà efface les lumières du jour,
les projecteurs de la scène de la boîte branchée où nous jouons prennent le relais.

C'est étrange, mais j'ai remarqué que l’écureuil m'a suivi...

3ème jour (face à face avec...)
L'heure du grand départ,
Le lendemain, toute l'embarcation de fortune est chargée, (souvenirs compris).
Nous partons saluant une dernière fois ceux qui nous ont accueillis...
et c'est ce moment que la montagne choisit pour se révéler à nous...

C'est l'admiration... Waow!
Toute CETTE MERVEILLE était là près de nous !!!
Les derniers nuages qui s'en échappent telles des vapeurs fumantes
donnent l'impression qu'elle est encore brûlante.

Je retourne à la maison,
je sais que mon Créateur y est déjà
telle une montagne géante invisible
et parfois, peut-être, sans avertir... je le verrai.

Alain[:en]1st day (an encounter with...)


Saahsal on the mountain (a rock band)

Night had already begun to fall upon the towering mountain ranges of Switzerland, transforming them into an immensely imposing and somber mass. The brightly-lit villages nestling on the mountainsides and the town at their feet shone like fiery red lava flows.

The journey seemed to go on for ever, with our old bus (which I fear is not long for this world) hauling behind it a trailer filled with anti-blues bombs (some people also call it music and sound equipment). Our tortuous ascent takes us up narrow roads and hairpin bends. I drink in the deliciously unreal beauty of the countryside. It feels like I’m in a fantasy film. This evening we have a death-defying mission in a bar: 

turn up those decibels !

 

2nd day (living with...)
The invisible world


The next day, I was walking by myself in this fascinating upland forest in search of some peace and quiet and the chance to talk to God. All around me is foggy, just like my brain after last night’s concert


Supposedly, behind this thick veil of fog looms the majestic Alps, masters of all they survey, their streams bringing life-giving water that sustains EVERYTHING that lives... 
But today, I can’t see a THING !
Behind our thick veil of disbelief down here, 
You are also present...
Oh! Lord, I can’t wait to see you as you really are....
 

The forest-dweller


I have the sensation that I’m being watched... (I get the same feeling when I’m on stage) Oh! Just in front of me, stock-still and squatting upon two legs, a squirrel is looking at me, weighing me up. I know the slightest sudden movement will break the spell.
Sometimes we liken the Creator’s intelligence to that of an incredibly powerful computer (not running on Windows, OK!!!). This image is doubly misleading because God is so much more powerful than that, and, above all, a computer operates according to an unbending, cold set of rules... whereas God is sensitive, just like this squi... Oops ! Where did he go ?!

    The onset of night is already dissipating the last glimmers of daylight, the spotlights on the stage at the fashionable club where we’re about to play take over. The squirrel seems to have followed me – how strange...
3rd day (face to face with...)
Time for the long journey home


    The next day, we load up our rickety means of transport (including our mementoes). We set off, waving our last goodbyes to all those who made us so welcome...and at this exact moment, the mountain decides to show itself to us in all its splendor...
Gasps of admiration break out ! This WONDROUS BEAUTY was there, so close by, but up to then, we hadn’t seen it !!! The last wisps of clouds disappear from the summits, their smoky, vaporous quality almost making you think the mountain was boiling hot.
I arrived back home. I know that my Creator is already here, like a gigantic, invisible mountain...
Maybe, without any forewarning... 
 
I will see Him.
Alain[:]"
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  string(4410) "Cool! For Easter (the bunnies’ special day), my parents let me stay up late with them to watch a special film.

The film told the story of a King come from another world who had incredible magic powers, who was quiet and modest. Even though (in this film in any case) he never smiled, he genuinely loved the very worst type of human trash and lived alongside them (I mean people that the rest of society has rejected). He loved them so much…all his miracles were for them.

‒ But...but who is this guy!?

My father added:

‒ Moreover, it’s a true story.

‒ Huh!? I’ve never heard anything like this before! Why do we never talk about this? Wha...?

... Jesus...

 

The ‘trial’

The people could either vote for Barabas a murderer, who's got smelly feet to boot, or for Jesus.

The baddies had stirred the crowd up to shout:

‒ Barabas! Barabas!

There were only a few who were shouting for Jesus – just his mom, one or two friends and... me. I jumped up and down on my seat, shouting:

‒ Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!

My father:

‒ Hey! Enough of that! It’s only a film!

 

What kind of world are we living in?!

Then the unthinkable happened: Barabas won...

What kind of world have I been born into? How could you find someone so innocent to be guilty? I couldn’t bear to see him being struck, spat upon, insulted, mistreated, having to carry this heavy beam in the shape of a cross…

He had been so kind to all these people... and they’re nailing him to it!

Wait, hey, stop! this can’t be happening!

With all his special powers,  with one breath he could wipe them from the face of the earth! But instead of doing that, he asks his dad, ‘God’ (#%?! So who’s that then?!):

‒ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Me: BLAM!

 

But who is this guy!?

As I was weeping over his death, my father tried to put things into perspective:

‒ Huh! In any case, he comes alive again afterwards!

Whaaat?! But nobody ever comes back to life, at least.. What’s going on...?

 

‘Hi Alain, it’s me...’

Many years later, when I was a teenager I found some Christian comics in the trash (www.tournesol.ch). And it was only then, through my tears, that I understood that Jesus had undergone the cross of his own free will, through love for us….

... for me.

 

For them

I’ve been writing comics for over sixteen years now (and taking part in special events and other foolish things), giving me in turn frequent chances to share his message with others. It’s not an easy path to take, there is joy, but also mockery and hardships to be endured. When I feel like giving up, I find strength by remembering the two people for whom I do all of this, the little boy sitting upon a chair on that Easter evening who would have given anything to know more about Jesus...

and his God, who would have given anything to tell him more.

 

Alain

 
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Cool! A l’occasion des fêtes de Pâques (l’anniversaire des lapins), mes parents m’avaient permis de veiller tard avec eux; à la télé était diffusé un film spécial.
Il relatait l’histoire d’un roi d’un autre monde qui avait de formidables pouvoirs magiques, et il était discret, modeste. Même (dans ce film en tout cas) s’il ne souriait jamais, il aimait sincèrement les pires déchets et vivait parmi eux (euh... je parle des gens rejetés par la société). Il les aimait tellement... tous ses miracles étaient pour eux.
‒ Mais... mais qui c’est, ce type!?
Et mon père d’ajouter:
‒ C’est de plus une histoire vraie.
‒ Hein!? Jamais je n’ai entendu une chose pareille! Pourquoi on n’en parle jamais? Com...?
... Jésus...
 
Le «procès»
Le peuple pouvait voter soit pour Barabas meurtrier qui pue des pieds, soit pour Jésus.
Les méchants avaient monté la foule pour crier:
‒ Barabas! Barabas!
Ceux qui scandaient le nom de Jésus étaient peu nombreux. Seuls sa maman, deux ou trois potes et... moi. Debout sur le fauteuil, je sautais et criais avec eux:
‒ Jésus! Jésus! Jésus!
Mon père:
‒ Eh! ho! ce n’est qu’un film!
 
C’est quoi, ce monde?!
Puis l’inconcevable est arrivé: Barabas a gagné...
C’est quoi, ce monde dans lequel je suis né? Comment peut-on condamner aussi injustement? Je trouvais insupportable de regarder qu’on le frappe, lui crache dessus, l’insulte, le maltraite, lui fasse porter cette grosse poutre en forme de croix…
Lui qui a été si gentil pour tous ces gens... ils le clouèrent dessus!
Attends, Ho-HO! ce n’est pas possible...!
Avec ses pouvoirs, il lui suffit d’un souffle pour tous les niquer définitivement de la surface du sol! Mais au lieu de ça, il a supplié son papa, un certain «Dieu» (#%?! Qui c’est, ça, encore?!):
‒ Père, pardonne-leur, ils ne savent pas ce qu’ils font.
Moi: BOUM!
 
Mais qui est ce type!?
Comme je pleurais sa mort à chaudes larmes, mon père a relativisé:
‒ Bah! De toute façon, après, il ressuscite!
Hein?! Mais personne ne revient à la vie, normalement...!!! Qu’est-c...?
 
«Salut Alain, c’est moi...»
Bien des années plus tard, adolescent, j’ai trouvé des bédés chrétiennes dans les déchets (www.tournesol.ch). Et c’est seulement à ce moment-là, en larmes, que j’ai compris que Jésus avait subi la croix volontairement par amour pour nous...
... pour moi.
 
Pour eux
Voilà maintenant plus de seize ans que je crée des bédés (que je participe à des spectacles et autres bêtises) pour, à mon tour, souvent partager le message. C’est un chemin difficile accompagné de joie, mais aussi de moqueries, de privations; et, quand j’ai envie de baisser les bras, je retrouve courage en me souvenant des deux personnes pour qui je fais tout ça, ce petit garçon assis sur un fauteuil un soir de Pâques qui aurait tellement voulu savoir...
et son Dieu qui aurait tellement voulu lui dire.
Alain Auderset
[:en]Cool! For Easter (the bunnies’ special day), my parents let me stay up late with them to watch a special film.

The film told the story of a King come from another world who had incredible magic powers, who was quiet and modest. Even though (in this film in any case) he never smiled, he genuinely loved the very worst type of human trash and lived alongside them (I mean people that the rest of society has rejected). He loved them so much…all his miracles were for them.

‒ But...but who is this guy!?

My father added:

‒ Moreover, it’s a true story.

‒ Huh!? I’ve never heard anything like this before! Why do we never talk about this? Wha...?

... Jesus...

 

The ‘trial’

The people could either vote for Barabas a murderer, who's got smelly feet to boot, or for Jesus.

The baddies had stirred the crowd up to shout:

‒ Barabas! Barabas!

There were only a few who were shouting for Jesus – just his mom, one or two friends and... me. I jumped up and down on my seat, shouting:

‒ Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!

My father:

‒ Hey! Enough of that! It’s only a film!

 

What kind of world are we living in?!

Then the unthinkable happened: Barabas won...

What kind of world have I been born into? How could you find someone so innocent to be guilty? I couldn’t bear to see him being struck, spat upon, insulted, mistreated, having to carry this heavy beam in the shape of a cross…

He had been so kind to all these people... and they’re nailing him to it!

Wait, hey, stop! this can’t be happening!

With all his special powers,  with one breath he could wipe them from the face of the earth! But instead of doing that, he asks his dad, ‘God’ (#%?! So who’s that then?!):

‒ Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

Me: BLAM!

 

But who is this guy!?

As I was weeping over his death, my father tried to put things into perspective:

‒ Huh! In any case, he comes alive again afterwards!

Whaaat?! But nobody ever comes back to life, at least.. What’s going on...?

 

‘Hi Alain, it’s me...’

Many years later, when I was a teenager I found some Christian comics in the trash (www.tournesol.ch). And it was only then, through my tears, that I understood that Jesus had undergone the cross of his own free will, through love for us….

... for me.

 

For them

I’ve been writing comics for over sixteen years now (and taking part in special events and other foolish things), giving me in turn frequent chances to share his message with others. It’s not an easy path to take, there is joy, but also mockery and hardships to be endured. When I feel like giving up, I find strength by remembering the two people for whom I do all of this, the little boy sitting upon a chair on that Easter evening who would have given anything to know more about Jesus...

and his God, who would have given anything to tell him more.

 

Alain

 
[:]"
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The meeting
I'd just started out on a walk in the forest,
when I saw someone coming towards me.
My heart leapt when I recognized my youngest son
(I love this little guy so much...)
He didn’t have to say anything,
I’d already seen from the look on his face that something was up.


- Hi pop, I’ve just been to a birthday party...
- ouch! I understand, that can’t have been easy...
- it’s not that, pop! I just had an argument with my friend, that’s all!

I sat down with him on a step.
I was genuinely interested in what he had to tell me (I listened just as carefully as I would have with an adult).
I didn’t bombard him with advice, I just listened attentively to him.

- and then, pop, what’s more, I’ve got a really hard English test to hand in,
I have to stick photos of each member of my family and write something about them and…and I don’t know how…
- don’t worry precious, super pop is here! (sometimes, I even believe it myself!)

I went back home, turned on my PC and showed him exactly what he had to do, and he sat on my lap and got on with it.
It would have been quicker for me to do it all myself,
but he wouldn’t have learnt anything and to tell you the truth, I like to make these times we have together last.

The time we spend with those whom we love is never wasted,
(rather, it’s always time we’ve saved).

Our work finished, we were as pleased with ourselves as a couple of Vikings who'd just finished a bit of pillaging and plundering!
We toasted the occasion with a big glass of cordial and a manly ‘cheers’

Early Fall 
I continued on my way, towards the forest.
We really are right slap bang IN the masterpiece of the greatest Artist of them all.
The elements are His tools, His rays of sun the multicolored palette from which he paints, these (His) last times: He doesn’t hold back! He scatters a thousand joyous shades upon the trees, drawing them into a jubilant waltz around me,
all against a subtle backdrop of white mist that crowns Him the master poet.

Despite his efforts, He is unable to take my mind off my worries,
my head was a muddled mass of grown-up cares,
So He decided to take another tack…

The meeting
Then, someone came towards me along the path.
From afar He had already seen from the look on my face that something was up…
It was the Divine artist Himself:

super Pop...

 

Alain"
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La rencontre
Je venais à peine de prendre mon chemin pour me balader dans la forêt,
quand je vis quelqu'un venir en face de moi.
Mon coeur s'illumina quand je reconnus mon plus jeune fils
(je l'aime tellement ce petit gars...)
Sans qu'il eut besoin de me dire quoi que ce soit,
j'avais déjà lu sur son visage que quelque chose clochait.

- s'lut papa, je reviens d'un anniversaire...
- aie! Je comprends, ça n'a pas dû être facile....
- mais non p'pa! c'est juste qu'on s'est disputé avec le copain!

Je m'assis avec lui sur un escalier.
Je m'intéressais sincèrement à son récit (avec autant de sérieux que si c'était une histoire de grand).
Je ne lui assenais aucun conseil, juste, je l'écoutais attentivement.

- pis papa, j'ai un devoir d'anglais compliqué,
où je dois coller les photos de chaque membre de ma famille avec un texte de présentation et... et je ne sais pas...
- ne t'inquiète pas bien-aimé, super papa est là! (par moment, j'mis crois!)

Je rebroussais chemin, ouvris mon ordi et eus soin de bien lui montrer les démarches à suivre et, lui, assis sur mes genoux de les exécuter.
C'aurait été plus vite de tout faire moi-même,
mais il n'aurait rien appris et pour dire vrai j'aime faire durer ces moments ensemble.

Le temps qu'on passe avec ceux qu'on aime n'est jamais perdu,
(mais toujours gagné).

Le travail accompli, nous étions aussi satisfaits que, l'auraient été deux vikings après un joyeux massacre!
Nous avons trinqué un gros verre de sirop, en déclamant un viril:
- "santé!"

Début d'automne 
Je repris ma balade direction la forêt,
on est carrément DANS un chef d'oeuvre du plus incroyable des Artistes.
Les éléments sont Ses instruments, Ses (c)rayons soleil multicolore
et Ses derniers temps: Il Se lâche! Il gicle mille peintures festives sur les arbres,
les entraînent dans une danse joyeuse tout autour de moi.
Le tout sur un fond blanc de brume subtile, dévoilant par la même Sa profonde sensibilité de poète.

Malgré ses efforts, il ne réussit pas à me distraire,
j'avais la tête embrumée par mes soucis d'adulte,
Il opta alors pour une autre approche...

La rencontre
Alors, quelqu'un vint en face de moi sur le chemin.
De loin, il avait déjà lu sur mon visage que quelque chose clochait...
C'était L'auteur Divin en personne:

super Papa...

Alain
www.auderset.com[:en]

The meeting
I'd just started out on a walk in the forest,
when I saw someone coming towards me.
My heart leapt when I recognized my youngest son
(I love this little guy so much...)
He didn’t have to say anything,
I’d already seen from the look on his face that something was up.


- Hi pop, I’ve just been to a birthday party...
- ouch! I understand, that can’t have been easy...
- it’s not that, pop! I just had an argument with my friend, that’s all!

I sat down with him on a step.
I was genuinely interested in what he had to tell me (I listened just as carefully as I would have with an adult).
I didn’t bombard him with advice, I just listened attentively to him.

- and then, pop, what’s more, I’ve got a really hard English test to hand in,
I have to stick photos of each member of my family and write something about them and…and I don’t know how…
- don’t worry precious, super pop is here! (sometimes, I even believe it myself!)

I went back home, turned on my PC and showed him exactly what he had to do, and he sat on my lap and got on with it.
It would have been quicker for me to do it all myself,
but he wouldn’t have learnt anything and to tell you the truth, I like to make these times we have together last.

The time we spend with those whom we love is never wasted,
(rather, it’s always time we’ve saved).

Our work finished, we were as pleased with ourselves as a couple of Vikings who'd just finished a bit of pillaging and plundering!
We toasted the occasion with a big glass of cordial and a manly ‘cheers’

Early Fall 
I continued on my way, towards the forest.
We really are right slap bang IN the masterpiece of the greatest Artist of them all.
The elements are His tools, His rays of sun the multicolored palette from which he paints, these (His) last times: He doesn’t hold back! He scatters a thousand joyous shades upon the trees, drawing them into a jubilant waltz around me,
all against a subtle backdrop of white mist that crowns Him the master poet.

Despite his efforts, He is unable to take my mind off my worries,
my head was a muddled mass of grown-up cares,
So He decided to take another tack…

The meeting
Then, someone came towards me along the path.
From afar He had already seen from the look on my face that something was up…
It was the Divine artist Himself:

super Pop...

 

Alain[:]"
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Image du poster[:de]

[:en]

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