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A story from "Appointment in the forest"

In India you will go… On the eve of the publication of my first comic book, at a time when I still used to draw without the light of the flashes of journalists and when the idea of inviting me to speak to an audience would only have occurred to a desperate organiser, a man telephoned me. That voice (as well as the person to whom it belonged) was completely unknown to me back then. He told me amongst other things that he had had a vision of me speaking to thousands of young people and that (just like that, in passing…) God would send me one day to India… (?...okaaay… thanks for the call). The discovery of a plane ticket to India in my letter box ten years later leaves me speechless. Simultaneously, my recollections also place in the letter box of my memory the circumstances of the events described previously. Yet I believed that I had lost it in the annals of my brain, which is as messy as my desk (and that says it all!). The strange sender of the ticket is a mission by the name of ‘Empart’… Aha? ...A few months ago, I was invited to do drawings in conjunction with an Indian speaker. We had all had a good laugh because I had drawn a caricature of him on the big screen and he had shouted out this joke at me from the stage: ‘Hey, you, buddy, you’ll get what’s coming your way!’ The invitation is from him ; I phone the head of the mission based in my country to find out more : ‘Er… why do you want me to go to India ? What are you expecting of me?’ ‘We would just like you to come so that you are influenced by what you see there…’ ‘ ... and that’s all ?!’ They are not asking me to be a speaker, to repaint walls with Mickey Mouse, to dig a well or save any hostages (and that’s just as well, cos I really don’t know how that’s done!) …but just to come!?!

Where are we now !? From the moment I walk out of the airport, I am greeted by that distinctive smell (spice and piss) and that permanent fog (dust and pollution) which, like the roadside vendors, will never give up following me around. The scene which imposes itself on my gaze is completely destabilising. Aarrrgh!!! It must be that stupid pilot who must have gone through a space-time corridor!! What I discover gives me the strange impression of having gone back in time. But it is different from the space-time continuum which has been ours, as in this one several aliens live in collusion with humans! Guys with enormous turbans on their heads, others, cut in two, moving about on skate-boards with the help of their arms, magnificent women decked out in rainbows… Keep moving, there’s so much to see! In the street, it’s no better : the roadway is teeming with an abundance of giant yoghurt pots with a number of random wheels, serving as vehicles. The English car, straight out of another century, which serves as my taxi, glides along, like an enormous boat in the cascades of a river made up of motley assorted vehicles, at the speed of the current of traffic. Here, drivers are completely freed from the constraint of the most rudimentary traffic regulations. When the taxi plunges in the wrong direction on to the motorway to gain a few unnecessary minutes, I stay cool (my brain has gone into ‘So what’ mode anyway, all that just can’t be real!)

To be continued next week (Part 2 - out of 4)

" ["post_title"]=> string(14) "India (part 1)" ["post_excerpt"]=> string(0) "" ["post_status"]=> string(7) "publish" ["comment_status"]=> string(6) "closed" ["ping_status"]=> string(6) "closed" ["post_password"]=> string(0) "" ["post_name"]=> string(17) "india-1ere-partie" ["to_ping"]=> string(0) "" ["pinged"]=> string(0) "" ["post_modified"]=> string(19) "2015-12-14 10:08:15" ["post_modified_gmt"]=> string(19) "2015-12-14 08:08:15" ["post_content_filtered"]=> string(0) "" ["post_parent"]=> int(0) ["guid"]=> string(32) "http://www.auderset.com/?p=10552" ["menu_order"]=> int(0) ["post_type"]=> string(4) "post" ["post_mime_type"]=> string(0) "" ["comment_count"]=> string(1) "0" ["filter"]=> string(3) "raw" ["post_content_ml"]=> string(19229) "[:fr]Une histoire vraie, tirée du livre: "Rendez-vous dans la forêt" India En Inde tu iras... A l’aube de la sortie de ma première BD, à une époque où je dessinais encore sans la lumière des flashs des journalistes et que l’idée de m’inviter à parler face à un public ne serait venue qu’à un organisateur désespéré, un homme me téléphona. Cette voix (ainsi que la personne à qui elle appartenait) m’était alors totalement inconnue. Il m’annonça entre autres choses qu’il avait eu une vision de moi en train de parler à des milliers de jeunes et que (comme ça, en passant...) Dieu m’enverrait un jour en Inde... (?...okaaaaay... merci d’avoir appelé). La découverte d’un billet d’avion pour l’Inde dans ma boîte aux lettres dix ans plus tard me laisse pantois. Simultanément, mes souvenirs déposent eux aussi dans la boîte aux lettres de ma mémoire les circonstances des événements décrits précédemment. Je croyais pourtant l’avoir perdue dans les annales de mon cerveau aussi bordélique que mon bureau (ce qui veut tout dire!). L’étrange expéditeur du billet est une mission du nom d’« Empart »... Tiens?...Il y a quelques mois, j’étais invité pour dessiner de concert avec le discours d’un orateur indien. Nous avions tous bien ri, car je l’avais cari-caturé sur grand écran et il m’avait lancé cette vanne depuis la scène : – Toi, mon gaillard, tu ne perds rien pour attendre ! L’invitation vient de lui ; je téléphone au responsable de mission basé dans mon pays pour en savoir plus : – Euh... pourquoi voulez-vous que j’aille en Inde ? Qu’attendez-vous de moi ? – On aimerait juste que tu viennes pour que tu sois influencé par ce que tu y verras... – ... et c’est tout ?! On ne me demande pas d’être orateur, de repeindre les façades avec des Mickeys, de creuser un puits ou de sauver des otages (et c tant mieux paske j’sais pas trop comment qu’on fait!)... mais juste de venir !?! On est où, là !? Dès la sortie de l’aéroport, je suis accueilli par cette odeur particulière (épice et pisse) et ce brouillard permanent (poussière et pollution), qui tels les vendeurs en bord de rue ne me lâcheront plus d’une semelle. Le spectacle qui s’impose à mes yeux est complètement déstabilisant. Rââââ!!! C’est sûrement cet empaffé de pilote qui a dû passer un couloir spatio-temporel !! Ce que je découvre me donne l’impression étrange d’avoir reculé dans le temps. Mais différent du continuel espace-temps qui a été le nôtre, car dans celui-ci plusieurs aliens vivent en connivence avec les humains ! Des types avec des turbans énormes sur la tête, d’autres coupés en deux se déplaçant à l’aide de leurs bras sur une planche à roulettes, des femmes magnifiques revêtues d’arc-en-ciel...

Circulez, y a tout à voir! Dans la rue, c’est pas mieux : une abondance de gobelets de yogourts géants au nombre de roues aléatoires servant de véhicules grouillent sur la chaussée. La voiture anglaise tout droit sortie d’un autre siècle qui me sert de taxi glisse tel un bateau massif dans les cascades d’un fleuve de véhicules hétéroclites à la vitesse du courant de circulation. Ici, les conducteurs sont complètement libérés de la contrainte des règles de circulation les plus primaires. Quand le taxi s’engouffre dans le sens inverse de l’autoroute pour gagner quelques minutes inutiles, je reste cool (mon cerveau s’est mis en mode : bah ! de toute façon, tout cela ne peut pas être réel!) La suite, la semaine prochaine... [:de]

Aus dem Buch "Verabredungen im Wald". Erster Teil (von vier)

Nach Indien sollst du gehen...

Kurz vor dem Erscheinen meines ersten Comics, zu der Zeit, als ich noch ohne das Blitzlich der Journalisten zeichnete und als nur hoffnungslose Fälle mich eingeladen hätten, um zu einem Publikum zu reden, bekam ich einen Anruf. Diese Stimme (genauso wie die Person, zu der sie gehörte) war mir total unbekannt. Sie verklickerte mir unter anderem, dass sie eine Vision von mir bekommen hatte, wie ich zu tausenden von Jugendlichen reden würde und dass mich Gott (einfach so nebenbei) eines Tages nach Indien schicken würde... (Okäääääy ... und vielen Dank, dass Du angerufen hast!)

Zehn Jahre später verschlägt mir ein in meinem Briefkasten aufgefundenes Flugzeugticket nach Indien die Sprache. Gleichzeitig öffnet sich erneut das Fach meines Gedächtnisbriefkastens mit der Erinnerung an die zuvor beschriebenen Erlebnisse. Ich dachte, diese wären in den Chroniken meines Gehirns, das so chaotisch aufgeräumt ist wie mein Schreibtisch (das sagt eigentlich alles), jämmerlich verloren gegangen.

Der seltsame Absender des Flugtickets ist eine Missionsgesellschaft namens „Empart“ ... na? Vor ein paar Monaten war ich eingeladen worden, um zu zeichnen, während ein indischer Referent etwas vortrug. Wir hatten beide viel gelacht, denn ich hatte eine Karikatur von ihm auf Großleinwand gebracht und von der Bühne hatte er mir diese witzige Bemerkung zugeworfen:

- So leicht kommst du mir aber nicht davon, mein Lieber! Die Einladung kommt von ihm. Ich rufe den Missionsleiter an, der sich in meiner Heimat befindet, um ein bisschen mehr in Erfahrung zu bringen: - Äh... Warum soll ich denn nach Indien kommen? Was erwarten Sie von mir? - Wir möchten nur, dass du kommst, damit du inspiriert wirst von dem, was du dort sehen wirst... - ... Ist das alles?!

Die bitten nicht darum, dass ich was sage, dass ich Fassaden mit Micky-Mäusen gestalte, dass ich einen Brunnen grabe oder, dass ich irgendwelche Geiseln rette (und das ist auch besser so, weil ich nicht richtig weiß, wie´s geht), sondern sie wollen nur, dass ich komme!?!

Wo sind wir denn hier?

Sobald ich aus dem Flughafen raus bin, begegnen mir sowohl dieser besondere Geruch (Gewürz und Pisse) als auch dieser beständige Nebel (Staub und Verschmutzung), die genauso wie die ringsum stehenden Straßenverkäufern mich nicht mehr verlassen werden. Der Anblick, den ich vor Augen habe, ist vollkommen irritierend. Aaaargh!!! Es liegt bestimmt an diesem dusseligen Piloten, der durch einen räumlich zeitlichen Korridor geflogen ist!! Was ich entdecke, gibt mir das eigentümliche Gefühl, dass ich in der Zeit zurückgegangen bin. Aber es ist anders als in unserem Raum-Zeit-Kontinuum, denn hier leben auch Aliens im stillen Einverständnis mit den Menschen! Es gibt Typen, die einen Turban als Kopfbedeckung tragen, andere sind zweigeteilt und bewegen sich mit Hilfe ihrer Armeskraft auf Rollbrettern, Frauen sind auch zu sehen, wunderschön und mit einem Regenbogen bekleidet...

Weitergehen, da gibt´s viel zu sehen!

Auf der Straße ist es nicht viel besser: Die Chaussee wimmelt von riesigen Joghurtbechern mit beliebig vielen Rädern, die als Fahrzeug fungieren. Der englische Wagen, aus einem anderen Jahrhundert stammend, der mir als Taxi dient, gleitet wie ein massives Schiff in der Flut verschiedenartiger Fahrzeuge im Verkehrsstrom mit. Hier sind die Fahrzeugführer völlig befreit von jeglichen Verkehrsregeln. Als der Taxifahrer in die Gegenrichtung der Autobahn auffährt, um einige zeitraubende Minuten zu gewinnen, bleibe ich cool. Mein Gehirn ist mittlerweile im Modus: „Was soll´s, all das kann sowieso nicht real sein!“

Es geht nächste Woche weiter...

[:en]

A story from "Appointment in the forest"

To be continued next week (Part 2 - out of 4)

[:es]A la India irás A punto de salir mi primer cómic, en una época en que aún dibujaba sin la luz de los flashes de los periodistas y en que la idea de invitarme a hablar en público sólo se le hubiera ocurrido a un organizador desesperado, un hombre me llamó por teléfono. Está voz, (así como la persona a quien pertenecía ) me era por aquel entonces totalmente desconocida. Me anunció, entre otras cosas, que había tenido una visión acerca de mí hablando a miles de jóvenes y que (así, como si nada…) Dios me enviaría un día a la india… (?...vaaaale... Gracias por su llamada). Descubrir un billete de avión para la India en mi buzón 10 años más tarde me dejó atónito. Simultáneamente, mis recuerdos depositan también en el buzón de mi memoria las circunstancias de los acontecimientos descritos precedentemente. Yo creía sin embargo haberlos perdido en medio de los anales de mi cerebro, tan caótico como mi escritorio (¡Con eso lo digo todo!). El extraño remitente del billete es una misión cuyo nombre es "Empart"... ¿Y eso?... meses atrás me habían invitado para hacer un dibujo al mismo tiempo que un orador indio daba su conferencia. Nos habíamos reído mucho porque yo había hecho su caricatura en la gran pantalla y él me lanzó esta broma desde el escenario: - ¡ Tú, amigo mío, espera y verás ! La invitación viene de él; llamo por teléfono al responsable de la sede de la misión en mi país para saber más: - Esto… ¿Por qué quiere que vaya a la India? ¿Qué esperan ustedes de mí? - Lo que queremos es que vengas para que seas influenciado por lo que veas allí… - ¿Y eso es todo? No me piden que vaya a dar una charla, ni que pinte fachadas con Mickeys, ni que cabe pozos ni que rescate rehenes ( ¡Y menos mal, porque no tengo ni idea de cómo se hace eso!)... Sino solo que vaya¡?! ¿ Pero qué lugar es este? Desde que salgo del aeropuerto, me acoge ese olor particular (especias y orina) y esa niebla permanente (polvo y contaminación), que como los vendedores que están al borde de la calle, se quedarán pegados a las suelas de mis zapatos. El espectáculo que se impone ante mis ojos es completamente desestabilizador. ¡Raaaaas! ¡Seguro que ese piloto tan chalado ha traspasado la barrera del espacio tiempo !!! lo que descubro me da la extraña impresión de haber retrocedido en el tiempo. ¡Pero diferente al nuestro porque en este, muchos alienígenas viven confabulados con los humanos! Tipos con enormes turbantes en la cabeza, otros, cortados en dos, se desplazan con ayuda de sus brazos sobre una tabla con ruedas, mujeres magníficas revestidas de arco iris...

¡Circulen! ¡sálvese quien pueda! En la calle, las cosas no están mejor: una abundancia de vasos de yogur gigantes con un número de ruedas aleatorio, sirviendo de vehículos, bullen por la calzada. El coche inglés, salido de otro siglo, que me sirve de taxi, se desliza tal un barco macizo por las cascadas de un río heterogéneo de coches a la velocidad de la corriente de la circulación. Aquí los conductores son completamente liberados de la limitación de las más vitales reglas de circulación. Cuando el taxi se cuela en sentido contrario a la autopista para ganar algunos minutos inútiles, yo me quedo tan Pancho (mi cerebro se ha puesto en modo: ¡Bah, de todas formas, todo esto no puede ser real!) Continuará la semana próxima... [:]" ["post_content_langs"]=> array(4) { ["fr"]=> bool(true) ["de"]=> bool(true) ["en"]=> bool(true) ["es"]=> bool(true) } ["post_title_ml"]=> string(98) "[:fr]India (1ère partie)[:de]India (Erster Teil)[:en]India (part 1)[:es]INDIA (primera parte)[:]" ["post_title_langs"]=> array(4) { ["fr"]=> bool(true) ["de"]=> bool(true) ["en"]=> bool(true) ["es"]=> bool(true) } }

India (part 1)

Posted on 5 December 2015 by admin

A story from “Appointment in the forest“ In India you will go… On the eve of the publication of my first comic book, at a time when I still used to draw without the light of the flashes of journalists … More… More…

Posted in Blog | Comments Off

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  string(3336) "A tower that is falling down!

My English editor told me that he was no longer going to reprint my comic books… Of 8,000 comic books, he still has about 2,600 left, I am going to see if I can buy them back… ouch!

I refuse to resolve to let everything crumble; I continue to believe that millions (for a start) of people are going to find Jesus through these comic books.

Lord, if this door closes, may it be so that another even bigger one opens somewhere else… 

David’s pals:

‘Are you crazy! Fight against Goliath?! But he is so enormous!!!

David:

‘Cool, in that case I won’t be able to miss!’

Young padawans

A young Christian managed to get me into his comic book school. I was able to witness to his whole class, in spite of the teacher being visibly ill at ease about God being talked about so freely in his class.

By contrast, the students all looked really moved.

Lately I have been coming across talented young Christians saying to me that they want to follow in my tracks (hey, I’m going to have to wipe my feet then!).

It didn’t matter how hard I tried to explain to them that it was a life of hardship, taunting, uncertainty, impossible struggles, spilt inkpots, that the choice of loving Jesus and the lost was a choice of suffering, that a soldier who is dead to himself is the only one who frightens the enemy… 

It was no use! I didn’t manage to discourage them (so much for that)! So I prayed for them…


Alain Auderset
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  string(3344) "[:en]A tower that is falling down!

My English editor told me that he was no longer going to reprint my comic books… Of 8,000 comic books, he still has about 2,600 left, I am going to see if I can buy them back… ouch!

I refuse to resolve to let everything crumble; I continue to believe that millions (for a start) of people are going to find Jesus through these comic books.

Lord, if this door closes, may it be so that another even bigger one opens somewhere else… 

David’s pals:

‘Are you crazy! Fight against Goliath?! But he is so enormous!!!

David:

‘Cool, in that case I won’t be able to miss!’

Young padawans

A young Christian managed to get me into his comic book school. I was able to witness to his whole class, in spite of the teacher being visibly ill at ease about God being talked about so freely in his class.

By contrast, the students all looked really moved.

Lately I have been coming across talented young Christians saying to me that they want to follow in my tracks (hey, I’m going to have to wipe my feet then!).

It didn’t matter how hard I tried to explain to them that it was a life of hardship, taunting, uncertainty, impossible struggles, spilt inkpots, that the choice of loving Jesus and the lost was a choice of suffering, that a soldier who is dead to himself is the only one who frightens the enemy… 

It was no use! I didn’t manage to discourage them (so much for that)! So I prayed for them…


Alain Auderset
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Englan Tower

Posted on 21 September 2015 by admin

A tower that is falling down! My English editor told me that he was no longer going to reprint my comic books… Of 8,000 comic books, he still has about 2,600 left, I am going to see if I can … More… More…

Posted in Blog | Comments Off

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I have a banana tree in my studio.

(normal for a comic book workshop)!
Each time I transplant it into a bigger pot, it grows until its roots finish taking over the new area of soil.
(Aaaarg… STOP! Stop growing!)

NO ROOTS, NO FRUIT

What is vital in a tree is what is not seen… In our case, humans (as far as giraffes are concerned, I am not too sure…), it’s intimacy with God!

The more you extend your daily quality time with him (not just: ‘I pray when my wife is driving’ or ‘while I am brushing my teeth’... The more you will grow… And the more bananas you will have in your life (and bananas … they’re so good!)!

Today I am walking in the forest once again…
My path always goes through there (Oh that it had done a sudden runner to the Bahamas during the night…)!
The morning, in perfect complicity with the dew, coats the sides of the path with a glistening sparkle!

I ask God for nothing… other than to be closer to Him… ‘All fullness dwells in Jesus’, Colossians 1:19 (a passage in the Bible). Piece of advice for a ‘smart perspective’: if you have Jesus, you have everything!!
Suddenly on my path I see something amazing: thick, visible roots…
…that perks me up and I get a ‘banana’ smile!

P.S. I have planted lots of baobabs (that’s one of the biggest trees in the world!) all over my studio, but I no longer know where…Well, they are really tiny seeds…Oh dear! I have a hunch that they also have something to say to me
…With all these plants with the gift of the gab surrounding me while I make comic books, there is a cacophony!
 Alain Auderset
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I have a banana tree in my studio.

(normal for a comic book workshop)!
Each time I transplant it into a bigger pot, it grows until its roots finish taking over the new area of soil.
(Aaaarg… STOP! Stop growing!)

NO ROOTS, NO FRUIT

What is vital in a tree is what is not seen… In our case, humans (as far as giraffes are concerned, I am not too sure…), it’s intimacy with God!

The more you extend your daily quality time with him (not just: ‘I pray when my wife is driving’ or ‘while I am brushing my teeth’... The more you will grow… And the more bananas you will have in your life (and bananas … they’re so good!)!

Today I am walking in the forest once again…
My path always goes through there (Oh that it had done a sudden runner to the Bahamas during the night…)!
The morning, in perfect complicity with the dew, coats the sides of the path with a glistening sparkle!

I ask God for nothing… other than to be closer to Him… ‘All fullness dwells in Jesus’, Colossians 1:19 (a passage in the Bible). Piece of advice for a ‘smart perspective’: if you have Jesus, you have everything!!
Suddenly on my path I see something amazing: thick, visible roots…
…that perks me up and I get a ‘banana’ smile!

P.S. I have planted lots of baobabs (that’s one of the biggest trees in the world!) all over my studio, but I no longer know where…Well, they are really tiny seeds…Oh dear! I have a hunch that they also have something to say to me
…With all these plants with the gift of the gab surrounding me while I make comic books, there is a cacophony!
 Alain Auderset
[:es]Tengo una platanera en mi taller, ¡(algo normal en un taller de cómics)!

Cada vez que la trasplanto a una maceta más grande, crece hasta que sus raíces terminan por invadir el nuevo espacio de tierra…

( ¡Ajjj, STOP! ¡Para de crecer!)

No hay raíces, no hay frutos

Lo vital en un árbol, es lo que no se ve… para nosotros los humanos (en cuanto a las jirafas no tengo ni idea…) lo vital es la intimidad con Dios!

Cuanto más tiempo (de calidad) pases cada día con él (no solo : “Yo oro cuando conduce mi mujer” o “mientras que me lavo los dientes”)… más crecerás… y más plátanos tendrás en tu vida (¡¡y qué ricos son los plátanos!!)

Hoy, camino de nuevo por el bosque… mi camino sigue estando ahí ¡(¡cómo si hubiera podido irse a las Bahamas durante la noche...!)! la mañana, en perfecta complicidad con el rocío, reviste los bordes del camino de un brillo resplandeciente!
Yo no le pido nada a Dios…
Sino estar más cerca de él…

“Toda la plenitud reside en Jesús” Colosenses 2:9 (un pasaje de la Biblia)
¡Oye!: ¡SI TIENES A JESÚS, LO TIENES TODO!
De repente, en mi camino, veo algo asombroso: raíces fuertes y visibles…
¡Se me ponen los ojos como platos y se me dibuja en la cara una sonrisa de plátano!

 

PD: He plantado muchos baobabs (¡es uno de los árboles más grandes del mundo!) por todo mi taller, pero ya no se dónde… ¡bah, solo son unas semillas muy pequeñas pequeñas!¡pero ay! Tengo la impresión de que ellas también tienen algo que decirme…

¡…con todas estas plantas de lenguas largas a mi alrededor mientras que dibujo mis comics... ¡¡menudo lío!!

Alain Auderset[:]"
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The wisdom of the banana tree

Posted on 21 September 2015 by admin

I have a banana tree in my studio. (normal for a comic book workshop)! Each time I transplant it into a bigger pot, it grows until its roots finish taking over the new area of soil. (Aaaarg… STOP! Stop growing!) … More… More…

Posted in Blog | Comments Off

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The messenger
“One day this house will be yours!”
These are the words of Luc, my pastor friend, as he points out the strange building in front of me.
“Come on, Luc… think about it! I am far too poor to buy it! With my family, we are living below subsistence level, quite honestly, how can you dream up something like that?”
He doesn’t say anything but has this annoying little smile which people have who know something that you don’t know…

The discreet return
The years have gone by and today, acting as if nothing was up, Luc announces to me:
“There you are! ‘The’ house is for sale!”
That same smile that twists his mouth prevents him from continuing his remarks. But, as they can’t stop themselves, they escape through his eyes and say to me: “Well then? Are you going to buy it?”
“Grrroooaaan, Luc! You know as well as I do, my financial situation hasn’t changed, and I…

“Eh? What are you talking about?… I didn’t say anything…”
He has this look of indifference that the guilty have when they want to pass themselves off as innocent by whistling a banal tune.

(Why is it that I don’t manage to have any normal friends!?)

The absent-minded detour
The following morning, as is my habit, I plan to go into the forest, but this twisty path has a mind of its own and because of it I find myself face to face with the building in question.
Now it is my thoughts which, unbeknown to me, are embroidering a whole web of fantasies:
“Hmmm…it is true that it would be ideal, my workshop downstairs, my family right above… cool…”

SLAM! Reality, which – as everyone knows – nurtures only aversion for embroidery, slaps me with its implacable logic and brings me out of my daydreams:
‘You’re broke! OK?!”
The following day, same again, the path, taking advantage of my inattention (I often have my head in the clouds), deposits me right at the same spot (oh, very clever!)
“OK, Lord, let’s get things straight; in this world, things don’t work like that, you need money to get a building… do you understand?”
I sense then that He has the same smile of connivance as Luc… (those two are hiding something from me…)

I am not deluding myself; Luc, the path, Jesus are going to use their complicity so that every day I (and my vigilante/distributor of slaps, ‘reality’) come back to the same starting point. So let’s look at the problem head-on…

The banker
How do you go about buying a house?
(Er…? Instinctively I slide in the direction of the bank…) The local media often talk about me, so much so that the banker recognises me straightaway. From the tone of his voice I have the impression that he is convinced that I must have come by limousine and that my chauffeur is waiting for me outside; I blurt out to him:
“Morning! I would like to buy a house; would you lend me the money?”
He enthusiastically hands me a form:
“Of course, Mr. Auderset! Kindly note down your monthly salary on this document (a simple formality).”
“My monthly salary? Er… it depends on the months (the life of an artist, you know…) my oh my. I don’t understand anything about accounts…
Fortunately I have a wizard friend who helps me fill in the form (well… wizard, accountant; they are one and the same thing!).

The true banker
The figures which the banker discovers have wiped off his welcoming smile, which up till then had resembled in every respect the one that appears in the company’s advertising.
“Er… Terribly sorry, Sir, I’m afraid it won’t be possible! For us to lend you money, you have to already have some yourself.”
Blimey! I do not understand at all the logic of this bunch of cronies! Their ties must be tied so tightly that they prevent the blood from getting to the brain… (?!)

Sheepish, facing the house, I explain to God two or three things that he must not have understood properly about the workings of administration in our lowly world, before moving away from it into the forest with him.
A few days later, I receive a strange visit from an elderly couple who explain to me that they had been planning to invest in the stock market (a grown-up thing), but that, after thinking it over, they had felt it would be wiser to invest in the Kingdom of God. It just so happens that a chance conversation with one of my friends led them to me… In short, they have lent me 100,000 Swiss Francs

(approx. 125,000 Euros), telling me:
“You have 40 years to pay it back.”
I go back to the bank but this time I don’t go to the counter first, I go straight to knock on the manager’s door (after all, when I pray that’s what I do too, I speak to God directly and not via an intermediary!).
And he agrees to lend me the remainder.

Nowadays I live in this house with my little family. Creativity and lots of fun overflow from every part of it. Digging in the cellar, I discovered a notice ‘evangelical church’. The people who laid the first stones of this building (in the 1800s) planned to make it into a church, a place of worship and human warmth. All the owners that there have been, since its foundation, have each time been servants of God…
I have kept the interior as it was, transforming the pulpit (the thing for preaching) into a drawing table and the large windows into a sprinkler of light. The exotic plants, just like the drawings, have taken over all the walls.

Praise be to the King of kings, the Banker of bankers, his paths are amazing for his most simple servants who allow themselves to be led by Him. He has compassion on them and blesses them in his time.
In the same time (no connection, but anyway…):

Willy Grunch (my comic book character) wins first prize for Christian comic books at Angoulême !!!
A prophet (who is passing through) tells me:  “Go, I will send you far away to the nations…”  And Boom! In the days that follow,
I am invited for the first time to speak in Spain and in the USA!

Alain Auderset"
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  string(12799) "[:fr]La maison

Le messager
– Un jour cette maison sera tienne !
Telles sont les paroles de Luc, mon ami pasteur, en me désignant l’étrange bâtiment devant moi.
– Mais voyons, Luc... réfléchis ! Je suis beaucoup trop pauvre pour me l’acheter ! Avec ma famille, nous vivons en dessous du minimum vital, franchement, comment peux-tu imaginer un truc pareil ?
Il ne dit rien, mais il a ce petit sourire agaçant qu’ont ceux qui savent quelque chose que tu ignores...

Le retour discret
Les années ont passé et aujourd’hui, l’air de rien, Luc m’annonce :
– Ca y est ! « La » maison est à vendre !
Ce même sourire qui lui tord la bouche obstrue ainsi la suite de sa réflexion. Mais celle-ci, étant plus forte que lui, s’échappe par son regard et me dit :
– Alors ? Tu vas l’acheter ?
– Rââââ Luc ! Tu le sais comme moi, ma situation financière n’a pas changé, et je...

– Hein ? De quoi parles-tu ?... Je n’ai rien dit, moi... !
Il a cet air détaché qu’ont les coupables qui veulent passer pour innocents en sifflotant un air banal. (Pourquoi je n’arrive pas à avoir des amis normaux, moi !?)

Le détour distrait
Le lendemain matin, comme à mon habitude, je planifie d’aller en forêt, mais ce tordu de chemin n’en fait qu’à sa tête et à cause de lui je suis nez à nez avec le bâtiment en question.
Maintenant ce sont mes pensées qui, à mon insu, brodent tout un tricot de fantasmes :
– Mmmm... c’est vrai que ça serait idéal, mon atelier en bas, ma famille juste au-dessus... Cool...

PAF ! La réalité qui – comme chacun sait – ne nourrit qu’aversion pour la broderie me gifle de sa logique implacable et me sort de mes rêveries :
– Tu n’as pas un rond ! Okay ?!
Le lendemain, rebelote, le chemin, profitant de mon absence (je suis souvent dans la lune), me dépose pile-poil au même endroit (ah c malin !).
– Bon, Seigneur, mettons les choses au clair ; dans ce monde-ci, ça ne marche pas comme ça, il faut de l’argent pour acquérir un bâtiment... tu comprends ?
Je devine alors qu’Il a le même sourire de connivence que Luc... (ces deux-là me cachent quelque chose...)

Je ne me fais pas d’illusion ; Luc, le chemin, Jésus vont user de complicité pour que chaque jour, moi (et mon justicier distributeur de baffes « réalité ») nous nous retrouvions sur ce même point de départ. Alors affrontons le problème...

Le banquier
Comment kon fait pour acheter une maison ?
(beuh... ? Instinctivement, je glisse en direction de la banque...) Les médias locaux parlent souvent de moi, si bien que le banquier me reconnaît tout de suite. Au ton de sa voix j’ai l’impression qu’il est convaincu que j’ai dû venir en limousine et que mon chauffeur m’attend dehors ; je lui lance :
– Bonjour, j’aimerais acheter une maison ; vous me prêteriez l’argent ?
Il me tend une feuille avec entrain :
– Mais certainement, Monsieur Auderset ! Veuillez indiquer votre salaire mensuel sur ce document (simple formalité).
– Mon salaire mensuel ? Beuh... ça dépend des mois (la vie d’artiste quoi) ah là là là là ! J’y comprends rien en comptabilité, moi...
Heureusement, j’ai un pote sorcier qui m’aide à remplir la feuille (bah... sorcier, comptable ; c du pareil au même !).

Le vrai banquier
Les chiffres que découvre le banquier ont effacé son sourire bienveillant jusque-là en tous points semblable à celui de la publicité de l’entreprise.
– Heu... ça ne va pas être possible  ! Pour qu’on vous prête de l’argent, il faut que vous en ayez déjà.
Purée ! Je n’y comprends rien à leur logique à cette clique ! Leur cravate trop serrée doit empêcher le sang de monter au cerveau... (?!)

Penaud, face à la maison, j’explique à Dieu deux-trois trucs qu’il n’a pas dû bien comprendre sur le fonctionnement de l’administration de notre bas monde avant de m’en éloigner avec lui dans la forêt.
Quelques jours plus tard, je reçois l’étrange visite d’un couple âgé qui m’explique qu’ils avaient en projet d’investir dans la Bourse (un truc d’adulte), mais qu’après avoir réfléchi, ils ont trouvé plus judicieux d’investir dans le Royaume de Dieu. Il se trouve que le hasard d’une discussion avec l’un de mes amis les a conduits vers moi... Bref, ils m’ont prêté CHF 100000.- (soit quelques 125 000 euros) en me disant :
– Tu as 40 ans pour nous les rendre.

Je retourne à la banque mais cette fois je ne passe pas par le guichet, je vais directement frapper à la porte du directeur (finalement, quand je prie c’est aussi ce que je fais, je m’adresse directement à Dieu et pas à un intermédiaire  !).
Et il me dit oui pour me prêter le reste.

J’habite aujourd’hui cette maison avec ma petite famille. De la créativité et de la bonne humeur en débordent de partout. En creusant dans la cave, j’ai découvert un panneau « église évangélique ». Ceux qui posèrent les premières pierres de ce bâtiment (dans les année 1800) avaient le projet d’en faire une église, un lieu de culte et de chaleur humaine. Tous les propriétaires qu’il y a eu depuis sa fondation ont chaque fois été des serviteurs de Dieu...
J’ai conservé l’intérieur tel quel, transformant la chaire (le truc à prêcher) en table à dessin et les grandes fenêtres en arrosoir de lumière. Les plantes exotiques tout comme les dessins ont envahi tous les murs.

Loué soit le Roi des rois, le Banquier des banquiers; ses sentiers sont étonnants pour ses serviteurs les plus simples qui se laissent diriger par lui, Il a compassion d’eux et les bénit en son temps.
Dans ces mêmes temps (rien à voir, mais bon...) :

Willy Grunch (mon personnage de BD) gagne le premier prix de la BD chrétienne d'Angoulême!!!
Un prophète (qui passe par là) m'annonce
- Va, je t'enverrai au loin vers les nations... Et Boum ! Les jours qui suivent je suis invité pour la première fois à parler en Espagne et aux États-Unis !

Alain Auderset

Extrait du livre ''Rendez-vous dans la forêt"

www.auderset.com/store[:en]The house


The messenger
“One day this house will be yours!”
These are the words of Luc, my pastor friend, as he points out the strange building in front of me.
“Come on, Luc… think about it! I am far too poor to buy it! With my family, we are living below subsistence level, quite honestly, how can you dream up something like that?”
He doesn’t say anything but has this annoying little smile which people have who know something that you don’t know…

The discreet return
The years have gone by and today, acting as if nothing was up, Luc announces to me:
“There you are! ‘The’ house is for sale!”
That same smile that twists his mouth prevents him from continuing his remarks. But, as they can’t stop themselves, they escape through his eyes and say to me: “Well then? Are you going to buy it?”
“Grrroooaaan, Luc! You know as well as I do, my financial situation hasn’t changed, and I…

“Eh? What are you talking about?… I didn’t say anything…”
He has this look of indifference that the guilty have when they want to pass themselves off as innocent by whistling a banal tune.

(Why is it that I don’t manage to have any normal friends!?)

The absent-minded detour
The following morning, as is my habit, I plan to go into the forest, but this twisty path has a mind of its own and because of it I find myself face to face with the building in question.
Now it is my thoughts which, unbeknown to me, are embroidering a whole web of fantasies:
“Hmmm…it is true that it would be ideal, my workshop downstairs, my family right above… cool…”

SLAM! Reality, which – as everyone knows – nurtures only aversion for embroidery, slaps me with its implacable logic and brings me out of my daydreams:
‘You’re broke! OK?!”
The following day, same again, the path, taking advantage of my inattention (I often have my head in the clouds), deposits me right at the same spot (oh, very clever!)
“OK, Lord, let’s get things straight; in this world, things don’t work like that, you need money to get a building… do you understand?”
I sense then that He has the same smile of connivance as Luc… (those two are hiding something from me…)

I am not deluding myself; Luc, the path, Jesus are going to use their complicity so that every day I (and my vigilante/distributor of slaps, ‘reality’) come back to the same starting point. So let’s look at the problem head-on…

The banker
How do you go about buying a house?
(Er…? Instinctively I slide in the direction of the bank…) The local media often talk about me, so much so that the banker recognises me straightaway. From the tone of his voice I have the impression that he is convinced that I must have come by limousine and that my chauffeur is waiting for me outside; I blurt out to him:
“Morning! I would like to buy a house; would you lend me the money?”
He enthusiastically hands me a form:
“Of course, Mr. Auderset! Kindly note down your monthly salary on this document (a simple formality).”
“My monthly salary? Er… it depends on the months (the life of an artist, you know…) my oh my. I don’t understand anything about accounts…
Fortunately I have a wizard friend who helps me fill in the form (well… wizard, accountant; they are one and the same thing!).

The true banker
The figures which the banker discovers have wiped off his welcoming smile, which up till then had resembled in every respect the one that appears in the company’s advertising.
“Er… Terribly sorry, Sir, I’m afraid it won’t be possible! For us to lend you money, you have to already have some yourself.”
Blimey! I do not understand at all the logic of this bunch of cronies! Their ties must be tied so tightly that they prevent the blood from getting to the brain… (?!)

Sheepish, facing the house, I explain to God two or three things that he must not have understood properly about the workings of administration in our lowly world, before moving away from it into the forest with him.
A few days later, I receive a strange visit from an elderly couple who explain to me that they had been planning to invest in the stock market (a grown-up thing), but that, after thinking it over, they had felt it would be wiser to invest in the Kingdom of God. It just so happens that a chance conversation with one of my friends led them to me… In short, they have lent me 100,000 Swiss Francs

(approx. 125,000 Euros), telling me:
“You have 40 years to pay it back.”
I go back to the bank but this time I don’t go to the counter first, I go straight to knock on the manager’s door (after all, when I pray that’s what I do too, I speak to God directly and not via an intermediary!).
And he agrees to lend me the remainder.

Nowadays I live in this house with my little family. Creativity and lots of fun overflow from every part of it. Digging in the cellar, I discovered a notice ‘evangelical church’. The people who laid the first stones of this building (in the 1800s) planned to make it into a church, a place of worship and human warmth. All the owners that there have been, since its foundation, have each time been servants of God…
I have kept the interior as it was, transforming the pulpit (the thing for preaching) into a drawing table and the large windows into a sprinkler of light. The exotic plants, just like the drawings, have taken over all the walls.

Praise be to the King of kings, the Banker of bankers, his paths are amazing for his most simple servants who allow themselves to be led by Him. He has compassion on them and blesses them in his time.
In the same time (no connection, but anyway…):

Willy Grunch (my comic book character) wins first prize for Christian comic books at Angoulême !!!
A prophet (who is passing through) tells me:  “Go, I will send you far away to the nations…”  And Boom! In the days that follow,
I am invited for the first time to speak in Spain and in the USA!

Alain Auderset[:]"
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The house

Posted on 26 May 2015 by admin

The house The messenger “One day this house will be yours!” These are the words of Luc, my pastor friend, as he points out the strange building in front of me. “Come on, Luc… think about it! I am far … More… More…

Posted in Blog | Comments Off

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‘Auderset in his combat gear, ready to battle the accursed aphids’

The war of the accursed aphids

Armies of aphids have appeared on the little apple trees I’ve planted just in front of my studio!

They suck the life blood from the trees – so it’s goodbye to any fruit! In the end, it’s a death sentence for the tree!

Armed with a few half-baked solutions, I sprayed them with a black olive soap spray! I could have sworn I heard them laughing!

– Thanks for the wash and set, Mr. S. Tupid!

(it’s a little nickname they’ve given me... ahh, they’re real jokers these aphids!) Not only have they multiplied (are aphids some sort of aphrodisiac!?),

but they’ve even got onto my house plants!! Arrggh! Is this some sort of curse!?

I escaped into the forest to talk about it with God:

– Hey God, what do you think about all this!?... you wouldn’t by any chance be trying to tell me something, would you?

A crystal-clear thought came suddenly to me:

– These aphids represent criticisms.

– ?!?...

The silence in my head was followed by a tidal wave of doubts and interrogations....

– Forgive me God, I’m sorry. It’s true that I often ‘notice’ faults in others....

* To notice: hypocrite’s term for ‘to criticize’

Real-life application

I’m in a meeting with a couple of friends (we’re busy drawing up plans to conquer the world).

– What about you, Alain, what do you think of Billy-Bob?

(that’s not his real name... I’m not crazy – the guy’s a pumped-up WWE wrestler who’s escaped from an asylum for the thin-skinned!)

Billy-Bob... there are so many criticisms you could level at him, so much to get your teeth into that you could make a four course meal out of it !

However, I think back to my conversation in the forest... and I stick to pointing out all his positive character traits.

(Actually, there are lots of them!!!)

At just that instant, I felt a positive, strengthening force pass through me

(Wow! It could only be my friend the Holy Spirit, giving me a hand)

My small audience, which had been looking forward to tucking into a delicious dish of gossip with double cheese (Billy-Bob) suddenly found it had lost its appetite, they were left speechless, and then touched.

An atmosphere of peace

Sara and Valérie (my former secretaries, members of my inner circle) blurt out at the same time:

– ‘the really nice thing about you is that you always see the best in people’ (it’s not true, but it’s nice to hear).

And at the same time, they feel good too, because if a target as tempting as Billy-Bob is spared criticism, subconsciously they know that nobody will be talking about them behind their backs either...

A question:

Why shouldn’t someone who criticizes another person in front of you do exactly the same to you as soon as you’re out of earshot?

You’ll be their next victim.

Total war

(best read with ‘the Eye of the Tiger’ on in the background D

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsJK7tlBQOQ&feature=fvwrel ) Tam ! Tatatam! Tata Taaaaa!

There’s a stony stare and a frown upon my face, my teeth are clenched, my determination steely as can be.

Upon my back there’s a rocket-man style jetpack connected to a death laser

(well, it’s more like a kind of hand-pumped mister fed by a bit of half-perished rubber pipe, but hey...).

The war against the aphids went on for some time

(the war against criticism and fault-finding is still ongoing).

With the help of some tips from my mother in law (that’s bound to do for them...)

I sprayed a rhubarb leaf concoction (I’m fresh out of napalm*) and that really burns them up ! (with compliments from Mr. S. Tupid!)

* (I’d used the last of the incendiaries that had been lying around in the basement)

Every three days (don’t worry, I’ve still got time to write comics), I repeat the procedure.

This time round I use fermented nettle extract. It’s very effective, but my word, it really stinks!!

My spray goes absolutely everywhere, much to the delight of my kids who run away from me, fleeing to the end of the street, imagining that a chemical apocalypse is being unleashed upon the neighborhood.

I also acquired an ace squadron of ferocious ladybugs that I released on to my beloved trees...

Despite all my efforts, some aphids cling on... the situation seems hopeless! I suddenly understood why – they have a powerful ally!

Ants

Did you know that ants raise aphids in order to ‘milk’ them to harvest honeydew, just like we milk cattle.

They are formidable fighters and defend their flock to the death

(they squirt formic acid, they bite, stab, scratch – they’ll even pull your hair).

To beat aphids, you first have to beat the ants’ system.

To fight against the temptation to find fault, you first have to beat your own way of thinking.

I’ve found a whole ant-hill I didn’t know was there, much too close for comfort, that I’m helping to clear out.

Victory

It’s true that I’ve no apples this year, but at least my apple trees are still alive, and most of all, all the aphids are gone!

... Unless it’s just because we’re in winter right now (gulp!).

P.S: Billy-Bob, after having been unemployed for years, has just found himself a casual job.

I have the strangest feeling that having ‘blessed’ (spoken well of) him has something to do with it...

Who knows... (?)

" ["post_title"]=> string(30) "The war of the accursed aphids" ["post_excerpt"]=> string(0) "" ["post_status"]=> string(7) "publish" ["comment_status"]=> string(6) "closed" ["ping_status"]=> string(6) "closed" ["post_password"]=> string(0) "" ["post_name"]=> string(30) "la-guerre-des-pucerons-maudits" ["to_ping"]=> string(0) "" ["pinged"]=> string(0) "" ["post_modified"]=> string(19) "2015-09-04 13:49:15" ["post_modified_gmt"]=> string(19) "2015-09-04 11:49:15" ["post_content_filtered"]=> string(0) "" ["post_parent"]=> int(0) ["guid"]=> string(32) "http://www.auderset.com//?p=2296" ["menu_order"]=> int(0) ["post_type"]=> string(4) "post" ["post_mime_type"]=> string(0) "" ["comment_count"]=> string(1) "0" ["filter"]=> string(3) "raw" ["post_content_ml"]=> string(14339) "[:fr]Des armées de pucerons sont apparues sur mes petits pommiers plantés devant l'atelier de BD ! Ils sucent l'énergie de l'arbre, et donc, plus de fruits! Et au final : la mort ! Armé de recettes à deux balles, je les spraye avec du savon noir ! Dingue, j'ai l'impression de les entendre rigoler! - " Merci pour le shampoing Dukon" (C un petit surnom qu'ils m'ont donné... Ah c'est taquin le puceron!) Non seulement ils se sont multipliés (c aphrodisiaque ou quoi !?), mais j'en ai même eu dans les plantes d'intérieur !! Argl! Mais qu'est qu...? C'est une malédiction ou coa! Je m'enfuis dans la forêt pour en parler à Dieu: -"Hey Seigneur t'as vu ça!? Hum... par hasard, Tu ne chercherais pas à me dire quelque chose... ?" Une pensée d'une netteté limpide me tombe dessus : -"Ces pucerons, ce sont les critiques" -"?!?..." Le silence dans ma tête fut suivi d'un tsunami de remises en question.... - " Oh pardon Seigneur, je suis désolé, c'est vrai je l'ai "constaté" (*1) beaucoup chez les autres.... Mise en pratique: Je suis en comité avec des amis (on élabore des stratégies pour la conquête du monde). - "Et toi Alain, que penses-tu de Jeanri?" (Ce n'est pas son vrai nom, j'suis pas fou, c'est un catcheur enragé échappé d'un asile de susceptibles !) Jeanri... Il y a tant de choses croustillantes à critiquer sur lui, que c'en est une friandise! Mais je repense à ma conversation dans la forêt... Et me contente de relever ses cotés positifs. (Hey... ? Il y en a plein en fait !!!) À ce moment précis, je sens en moi une force bienfaisante me traverser (?! Waow! sûrement un coup de mon Ami St-Esprit). Mon petit public qui d'avance, se régalant du dessert à ragot gratiné qu'était Jeanri, s'en trouva coupé dans son élan, interdit... puis touché. Climat de paix Sara et Valérie (mes précédentes secrétaires qui font toujours partie de mon comité) me lancent spontanément: -"Ce qui est super avec toi, c'est que tu vois toujours le bon côté des gens" (Ce n'est pas vrai, mais ça fait plaisir) Et l'espace d'un instant, elles aussi se sont senties bien, car si une tentation telle que Jeanri est épargnée, inconsciemment, elles savent que dans leurs dos, ici on ne dira pas du mal d'elles non plus. Question: Pourquoi une personne qui critique quelqu'un devant vous, vous épargnerais une fois le dos tourné? Vous êtes sa prochaine victime. La guerre totale (À lire avec la Musique de Rocky 3 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PsJK7tlBQOQ&feature=fvwrel ) Tam ! Tatatam! Tata Taaaaa! J'ai le regard fixe et plissé, les dents aussi serrées que ma détermination. Dans mon dos : le jet-pack de rocket-man, relié au gun de la mort. (Bon...en fait, c'est juste une sorte d'arrosoir de mes2 à pomper à la main reliée par un tuyau caoutchouc pourri, mais bon) La guerre avec les pucerons dura longtemps, (celle contre les critiques n'est toujours pas finie). Armé des conseils de ma belle mère (ça ne peut que les tuer...) Je spraye des décoctions de feuilles de rhubarbe (je n'ai plus de napalm*2) ça les brûle grave ! (Avec le bonjour de Dukon!) Tous les 3 jours, (je vous rassure je fais toujours de la BD) je remets une dose, cette fois avec du fumier d'ortie, efficace mais au secours, qu'est-ce que ça pue!! Mon spray fuit de partout, pour la plus grande joie de mes gamins qui me fuyaient au bout de la rue prétextant une catastrophe chimique apocalyptique. Je me procurai aussi un commando de raid aérien de coccinelles voraces que je lâchai sur mes arbres bien-aimés... Malgré tous mes efforts, il en reste toujours, rien à faire! Tout à coup, j'ai compris, elles ont un puissant complice : Les fourmis Le saviez-vous? Elles élèvent les pucerons qu'elles traient pour récolter leur miellat (comme nous le lait des vaches). Elles défendent leur troupeau en guerrières redoutables (jet d'acide, morsure, arme blanche, griffure et elles tirent les cheveux). Pour vaincre les pucerons, il faut d'abord combattre l'organisation des fourmis. Pour combattre les critiques il faut d'abord vaincre son système de pensée. J'ai en effet découvert une fourmilière cachée à proximité, que j'ai déménagé. Victoire Je n'ai eu aucune pomme ok, mais au moins mes arbres sont en vie, et surtout plus aucun puceron! ... À moins que ce soit parce que c'est l'hiver (Gloups!) PS: Jeanri, après des années de chômage a trouvé un petit travail. J'ai l'impression que le fait de le «bénir» (dire du bien de) y est pour quelque chose... * 1 (Constater: mot fauxQ pour "critiquer") * 2 (j'avais usé tout le stock des bombes incendiaires qui traînaient dans ma cave)

Auderset paré pour combattre les pucerons maudits