English Portrait !



Une jeune journaliste m'a contactée fin novembre car elle souhaitait faire mon portrait pour un article ... Ayant constaté que j'avais des visiteurs(ses) anglophones, je vous le propose de le lire, tout simplement ...



By Agnes Bun 

PARIS, 27 Nov 2009 - Rosalie, auburn hair and cherry plum lipstick which matches her sweater, cannot bear to take the subway: There is such a crowd in there. It is a real pain. Rosalie does not suffer from agoraphobia: she is just a clairvoyant. When she takes a walk outside, peoples emotions may overcome her at any time. 

Being a clairvoyant was not exactly a dream career during Middle Ages times. But at the beginning of the 21st century, the profession boasts an incredible popularity. Everybody nowadays consults clairvoyants. They arent regarded as crazy, gullible or stupid people anymore. Indeed. More than ten million French souls seek their advice every year. Seeing a doctor or a psychologist is not enough. People need someone who can hear everything".

 Clairvoyance is not solely a reply to the does-he-love-me-or-not interrogations of hearts in distress. Thanks to the economic crisis, the number of clients is flaring up. The professional problems have overcome the sentimental ones. Women and homosexual still make for most of the clients; yet many executives look for business advices. Rosalies clients range from 20 to 70 years old, with the poor and the well-off bounded by the same nostalgic longing for enchantment. 

In the Parisian brasserie, Rosalie asks the waiter for some pistachios to accompany her beer. Born A.R., she chose her surname as a tribute to her greatmother, Rosalie, a clairvoyant as well. "If someone did not act nicely towards her, bad things would happen to him". His husband, a seaman, once did not get paid by a man. His car broke down. Fortunately the waiter does not fail to bring to Rosalie the Second her pistachios. I dont have her talent, Rosalie assures anyway. 

Born in 1954, A.R. experienced premonitions at an early age. She dreamed the death of senator Robert Kennedy in 1968, the night he was assassinated. I saw him being shot and falling on the ground. However, she first kept her talents bottled up. She started as a company psychologist, and then worked for twenty years as a production manager for national TV channels. Now she has been teaching for five years TV production. 

During her various stays in Africa, she got acquainted with divinatory arts. I went to see marabouts. They are the only ones in my life who ever told me true things. A few years ago, she belatedly started to put small ads on clairvoyant websites. Do not try however to find Rosalies crystal ball: the clairvoyant in modern times is a Facebook-user who consults via Skype (± 50 for 30 minutes), so she can reach people living in provinces or abroad or those who want to remain anonymous. Rosalie even opened a Twitter account a few weeks ago.

The waiter brings another beer and additional pistachios. Rosalies earrings shine under the dim light of the brasserie. You talk, people listen. An African marabout told her so years ago. But sometimes, people listen too much. Clairvoyance is nowadays less about predicting ones future than about coaching. We are the therapists of modern times. Rosalie blames her clients lack of will. Some people want to reach the moon, yet they dont even bother to take a ladder. 

Profit-hungry clairvoyants eager to sell such ladders abound. There are excellent tarotologists, but there are many scams according to Rosalie, who denounces them on her blog. She regards herself as a normal person, suspicious towards any esoteric discourse. The newspapers daily horoscope? She likes to read them at times to discover what wont happen to me. Most clairvoyants are religious people. I am not. I am a Cartesian clairvoyant. 

Yet there is one thing Rosalie believes in: reincarnation. She is convinced to have been an African slave in a previous life. When I went to Goree Island in Senegal, I broke down, crying. I later learned it was a former slave island. As she mentions the place, her emotion is still vivid. Im black inside. 

At night, Rosalie does not sleep. She suffers from insomnia. Even if I protect myself, Im still vulnerable. After a consultation, she goes out, walks around Montmartre. She has been living there since 1995. She doesnt take more than three, four persons per day. But she gives them everything. 

At the brasserie, the beer glasses are empty. Rosalies flamboyant silhouette disappears in the night. Leaving behind her a pile of pistachios shells and mysteries.