Deleuze says that words are old and that we write to try to create electric potentials : between these, “something can pass”, a lightning who comes from language, who will show us what was hidden by dust.
Maybe love is based on that, right? A link based on differences…
I like to write in English because it’s not my language, I have to search for words, and if I’m casual I try to invent some. I HOPE it feels a bit non-OK-but-I-get-it.
You can consider the idea of “translation” this way. I remember that Brian de Palma was obsessed by other movies. Then he translated his way, making Blow Out (a guy records sounds and accidentaly maybe gets a shotgun) from Blow Up (a photographer takes pics in a park and realizes there’s a body). Changing an element to see what we find.
For this, inventing a freedom and a casualness is necessary. If I think too much, I would never write in English, because I know it’s… not good. But I don’t care : I find ideas and I share. Some days, I know it triggers other ideas in readers, or it plugs with another thinker’s mind, and voilà! I’m happy!
Sometimes life’s like a puzzle. A sentence in a blog can be a little piece of the puzzle, or a little tool to change it. Use it, steal it, reframe it : this is what I did too, before.
Ideas have to circulate, maybe spread.
Have a good day!
We always write to give birth to free life where she’s jailed, to draw flee lines. For this, language must not be an homegenous system but an unbalancement, always heterogenous : style digs differences of potentials in it it, between which something can pass, happen, a fast lightning who will comes out of the language itself, and will show us and make us think about what stood in the shades around words, these entities we didn’t even know they were existing…
a french toolbox 