About Little words

One chilly evening, huddled on the couch, recounting our days, my mother Brigitte and myself decided it would be a good idea to recollect, organize, and perhaps share our writing. We both had half-finished short stories tucked into battered folders, and barely-legible poems leaking from our notebooks. We sat down, squinted at our awful handwriting, and started typing. We fought over which poems to include, and how to structure the website and what to name it. But in the end, we agreed on everything. After all, it was simple: we were just reviving our pieces of poetry and prose. We decided our words were little, almost insignificant, but they were words just the same. No matter how little they might’ve been, they were the instrument that allowed images and ideas to spring to life. Through words, we were able to express not ourselves, but embody other characters, invent their stories, hopes, dreams. We were able to offer different perspectives and perceptions. We were able to depict a material interpretation of abstract ideas.


We hope you will take the time to read our words, and find something within them that we missed when they were written.   

Alice Bellan - January 2017


There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.
— Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings
Alice mostly writes in English, Brigitte writes in French & English, Photos credit Laurent Bellan and Unsplash
Brigitte & Alice Bellan, January 2017, London, U.K. 

Brigitte & Alice Bellan, January 2017, London, U.K.