Prezly Writes

I have decided to organize a writing workshop in Paris.

Not to teach.
Not to correct.
After all, I am not in the best position to do so, and that is far from the point.

What I want, is to sit around a table with strangers who are not really strangers. People who carry sentences in their pockets. People who have felt that strange urgency to write something down before it disappears.

People who know what it means to feel too much, or sometimes nothing at all.
There were moments when I could not write. When everything inside me felt muted, as if someone had lowered the volume of my inner world. It still happens. Some days the page feels like a wall. Some days I open my notebook and close it again.

But I have also felt the opposite.
I have felt what happens when silence is shared. When ten people bend over their pages at the same time. When the air becomes dense with concentration. When a sentence finally arrives, shy but alive.
There is something almost sacred in that collective rhythm. Something that says: you are not alone in this. Your words are allowed to exist. Your voice does not need permission.

I am not trying to create a perfect space. I am trying to create a real one. A place where we can hesitate, cross out, start again. A place where reading out loud is not a performance but an offering. Where we might discover that what we thought was small is, in fact, luminous.

I do not know exactly what will happen during this workshop. That uncertainty is part of it. I only know that when words circulate between people, something opens. Sometimes gently. Sometimes unexpectedly.

If you feel that pull, even slightly, I would love for you to join.

Let’s see what happens when we write together.

https://www.eventbrite.com/e/1982876178026?aff=oddtdtcreator

See you soon in Paris 🖤