Minimalistic Bookporn : when you read prefaces only

There are 2 types of houses : with books, or empty of.

Imagine you have a couple of days in an apartment full of books.

Of course, you have your own books in your backpack. These are like air, or food, right?

 

One strangeodd way of spending a few hours alone in this place is :

Read prefaces only

 

Pick up books in a random way – be fast and casual, like a little girl with daisies.

Read prefaces only. Mais oui !

– What for, mister Becausewhat?

  1. It can bring you a urge desire to read the rest of the book
  2. You’ll discover authors you don’t know
  3. If a preface is written by another person, your brain will try to understand this link between both
  4. It’s knowledge feast & debauchery
  5. It’ll provide seeds for your hungry mind
  6. You’ll associate this place with exploration and pleasure (and?)
  7. It’s a good way to lose yourself (and you need to, right?)
  8. Discovery (of fields you ignore)
  9. Maps & new ways of thinking, drawing paths
  10. Seeds for subsequent conversations with the books owner
  11. Inspiration (take notes, silly)
  12. Extending your knowledge

 

Voilà! What did you find? How did you choose? Did you ask for indications from your host – for the day after? What happened then?

Thanks for reading! Have a nice week-end!

 

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2 Goddesses for the world : Chronicle 17

What if the world was ruled by two sisters Goddesses that nobody on Earth know or pray? Imagine their loneliness or their anger, their boredom, their wisdom…

 

Rilke writes that there are three ways for a passion to die :

  1. Exhaustion
  2. Transformation
  3. Substitution

 

Seeds to think about and with :

  • “When you don’t examine Belzebuth’s proposition”
  • “Dramatize tensions for lack of solving them”
  • “Something happening for itself, and not as a preparation for something to come”
  • “An obscure text, even for the author”
  • “To take an interest in what’s left on the side
  • “Something is said, showed. Something isn’t, is hidden. What if you lean on the frontier between both?”
  • “Change down a gear”. When? Where? How? Why?

 

Moon rays catchers. Who are they?

 

What kind of inner silence do you feel when someone accuses you of things you haven’t done since a long time?

 

Here are some Eluard poems translated in English :

http://poetsofmodernity.xyz/POMBR/French/Eluard.htm

 

 

 

…the fear of being forgotten

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Verbal Fencing : strong thumps are nothing against stingy words

A few weeks ago, sitting on a bench, I saw two male 15 years old students RUNNING from a small group sitting in a park. It was a chase!

The tall, big student caught the smart fast little one, and it began.

All cluttered with their bags, running. The tall one badly hit the small one in the back, gripped him. Shook him. Then with some judo-legged movements put him on the ground. Then put his fist against the cheek, crushing him strongly against the ground. He could have broken his teeth, because he was much stronger – and at this moment I was about to stand up and ask them to stop it. Like “Hey, calm down ,will you?”.

But they stopped. Stood up.

Then I saw something odd.

They both walked away, side by side, towards the group-with-girls. And the small guy was… like… comforting the tall one!

It’s been a little disturbing, but then the group was in the trees shade. It was a cool afternoon. Quiet. After school. All quiet.

 

I needed days to understand that all along, the small guy was the winner. He didn’t really fight back. It was NOT OK, right, I agree. Violence is bad. But I knew that the little student had triggered violence by what he said before. The other one was too kind (or too aware of the consequences of destroying his friend’s face) to really counter-attack. If you don’t have words (or the sense of repartee), you’re weak, even with muscles.

The small guy failed to regroup, to find back the tall one’s smile. “Allez, let’s be friends!”, he seemed to say with his gestures. But the tall one knew he lost. He was walking, in contained rage, with infuriated “NO. FUCK OFF” gestures.

 

Thanks for reading!

 

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The Dam & The Bridge : “At the same time” as an Ambiguity Force

I own a book named “About Ambiguity in Architecture“, by Robert Venturi. The title itself is promising, right?

There’s a Wikipedia page about Ambiguity.

It’s not the “vague” meaning here, but a way to be this and that “at the same time”.

At a very simple level, we all understand that. A gallery is a room and a corridor, and a dam can also be a bridge. In the same way, a road can also be a frontier, right?

Then, when you have this “tool”, you can begin to play.

Ambiguity as a force, not a weakness.

  • Is “double function” the same as “at the same time” (obviously not)? Explain.
  • At the same time : function of signification?
  • Double function now, or at different times?
  • Something can be esthetically pleasing and useful at the same time, right? But what other and more surprising uses/couples can you invent?
  • What if you show there’s an ambiguity? Why? How?
  • How a contradiction could be a strength?
  • What happens when something is tragic and funny?
  • Can a friend also be a lover?

Hmmm?

What’s your field? Teaching? Photography? Poetry? Blogging? How would you apply all this? When is it a game? A path to progress? When is it a danger? Do you have to explain ambiguity? What if you don’t?

Have fun. And a nice day! Thanks for reading !

 

“The struggle of maturity is to recover the seriousness of a child at play”.
Nietzsche

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My “Casual Minimalism” on Instagram

You’ll always find here or there some articles from “real” photographers mocking people taking pictures with their iPad, selfies makers, instagrammers.

I know the difference between writing a symphony or a book, and quickly taking a filtered pict of some clouds for my Instagram account – I need five seconds to do that. I agree : it’s some low level creativity. So what? So there!

The wrong thing would be to consider oneself a “great photographer”. Nevertheless, I take this activity very seriously at time (you too, right?)! And I really love to feel this little chill when I found something… interesting. A finger-triggering sight (if you allow my neologisms). It’s a pleasure from childhood. Something like :

Look mom! I found a little white rock!

 

Real photographers shouldn’t care about casual instagrammers and selfies anoraks (in France, an anorak is just a coat, I didn’t know “this” meaning in English). Maybe one day they’ll take this Art more seriously? Let them playyyy…

And you probably already know this : we post because we want to have “likes”. Like kids. We just want to be loved!

This week I was walking in the French city of Belfort, and in la Rue Gambetta, my eyes lifted up to see this view. Nothing special, right? But “something”, nevertheless. I saw :

  1. A contrast of texture.
  2. The neat color.
  3. The reflection of light on the left.

OK : I took the picture, blurred the chimney and all. This same day I also took a little carpet on a church’s stairs. Cold marble and velvet, etc. Voilà.

With some hashtags, these two pictures got like five of six times more success than more gorgeous ones. Why? Who knows? Not me. A mood? Something never seen?

What are my tools here?

  • Let the amateurs be casual, it’s their good childish pleasure.
  • If you are an amateur in a field, try to make some progress, of maybe to learn what the good pros do. You maybe won’t be a pro on this matter, but take pleasure where it is, and knowledge is one.
  • Well, if you’re a casual amateur, don’t play your smartassness in front of a pro. And please, don’t ask stupid questions (“Why are your backgrounds blurryyyy?”), it’s better to listen!

Awee sorry for my English! I do my best.

 

Thanks for reading! Bonne journée !

https://www.instagram.com/jprobocat/

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