There are places marked by a magic that mesmerizes us and deprives us of the world in which we live. There are places where time seems to stand still leaving us with the beauty of an ancient heritage. Moments so special flavors blend of old dust, incense, fantasy, poetry flavors. These moments are unique, we are back to childhood. This childhood that saw my daughter installed on my knees looking with eyes wide with curiosity these tigers that weird guy in costume fun to growl before they finally decide to jump through the circle of fire. I want to forget everything I've ever seen to do the same. Discover. Amaze me. Laugh. They are funny these bushy poodles that jump, turn, walk on two legs when coming to claim their due croquettes, just rewards for a job that has the dog. Two, three, four, five and six bowling juggling flying and circling over the head of a juggler catching and catching, running and raising. Here is one that falls. This plague, resumes, and we applaud successful. Two, three, four, five and six white rings that do not end up flying in his hands that seem even more touching. Just turn the straw hats that come and go alone. Like boomerangs. Like magic. It is this lovely princess. But how does she do? She walks, runs and jumps on a wire? But how does it not to fall? His suit shines on this muscular body that defies the tips of her weightless leather shoes. He has only one wheel bicycle. I know one who even with 4 can not even move. Acrobats leaping, leaping camels, cows ruminating and now grace personified who comes to hang over our heads. Sequence thrill. Simple strings hold it. She sways, falls. A strength of the hands, feet or neck makes up for it, plays with us. Our eyes are dazed, our mouth is blissful. Blissful admiration and awe. She is beautiful and makes us afraid with their bizarre games to 7 meters above the ground. The public was won. The clowns arrive. By dint of boxing gloves, children burst out laughing, take part in these games cabotins acrobats. The show comes to an end. Time will be able to resume his journey. My daughter cries and wants more. We will come back. We take your little sister to the circus. This authentic circus. Simple. Nicely Belle Epoque decor. Intimate. The canvas is old, dusty chandeliers. Garlands and yellow spiders have always been their seats on the balconies. Yet the big plays with the wind blowing furiously. Any crack, any balance but nothing takes away the magic of this place. The brilliant light of these artists for generations live only for the pleasure of us to share a unique moment. Exciting. The costumes are sometimes faded, the numbers insecure, poorly poodles moons, tigers recalcitrant slippery bowling but our childhood is intact. They come in a circus for the first time at age 3 (almost 4, dad). As my daughter. Or 37. Like me.
Cirque Diana Moreno Bormann - Porte d'Aubervilliers
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