Ze Post Poppins Blues & other “zooms in”

Mary Poppins & Teorema & My Uncle are three movies about a stranger who comes in a house, disturbs all systems, and at the end leaves the place in a mess of changes. It’s a little pattern in movies history, let’s call it the stranger/revealer. I googled the titles and spent a good time exploring this. Poppins is built on an invisible tree (she comes to “save the father”). The visitor in Teorema is a revealer/disturber – some say it’s God himself, or destiny. And Monsieur Hulot in My Uncle is just the happy French casualness and poetry messing with “modernity”, concrete and productivity.

You can enlarge it in clicking “Mysterious Visitor” in IMDB’s Plot Keywords, you’ll get plenty of, including horror movies.

But I’d prefer playing with the ZOOM today, restraining things to a more little aspect.

I wanted to write something about what happens AFTER Poppins and others. What could happen in movies, after the visit of a disturber. Struggles, changes, back to “normal”, chaos? It could be funny to imagine…

So my tool today becomes : biased Zoom in.

Choose a field, a structure, and choose to find or to study a little part of it, an unknown window, another entry, what happens before, or after. A strange zoom.

You can study resistance to change in hierarchies, but also “what if it was good?”, too. You can write about manipulators, but also about “what happens exactly when the narcissistic perv catches his prey”. You can spend months about mindfulness, but also and suddenly the contrary. How NOT to pay attention, and why.

So, well, the idea is to ZOOM IN on a field, with a deviant will, not in the center, with a bias of invention, generous wrongness, happy curiosity, to find something nobody had the idea to study before. Ideas. Seeds.

Have a good day!

helle7v

You can read also :

When to NOT pay attention is an Art for decision making

 

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Organizing Withdrawal

In my 22th Chronicle I talked about Pasolini and Didi-Huberman (an Italian director and a French philosopher), about the fireflies – the persons who, in dark times, arrange, create, install glimmers, little lights.

It’s about resistance : it’s discreet, humble, unnoticed by the majority (who run on highways, into the big neon lights of consumerism & productivity). Fireflies. They’re in the woods, along small paths and trails…

Fireflies disappear maybe because we don’t know how to see them anymore, say philosophers, but, well, obviously, they really disappear…

Maybe there’s a way to “organize the retreat”? 

In military vocabulary, a withdrawal is a “type of military operation, generally meaning retreating forces back while maintaining contact with the enemy” (wiki). There’s something included in this : it must be organized, held, kept in order, “in contact with the enemy”. If you lose this idea, it’s rout.

I should find a book about this concept! Retreating seems a negative thing, but we are here on a field where we have to find the positive aspects. Military speaking, I found this list here about withdrawal – https://www.virtuescience.com/why-retreat.html :

  • To pretend weakness
  • To make time to observe enemy
  • To make time to recover
  • To make time to plan
  • To lead enemy to more favourable area
  • To evade attack
  • To lessen force of enemy blow
  • To delay battle to a more favourable time
  • To defuse conflict
  • To wear out opponent

When I was in my Napoléon time, I was fascinated by Ney, Marshal of the Empire. In Russia he commanded the “rearguard”. Interesting to study, if you fancy it…

 

What about fireflies?

Glow-worms’ signals are intermittent and fine, minuscule, fragile. The tiny is the place of resistance. A singularity which also could make the forgotten… intelligible again. A firefly as an example?

Organizing the retreat is to BE a firefly, or to help them, maybe also to show those who whistle there are no more fireflies that they are wrong. It’s about “something is staying”. They glow in darkness. If you don’t see them anymore, it’s because you don’t want to follow their signals…

But I’m sure you do see them. I’m sure you’re one of them…

When, when you’re in the Crowd, do you step aside to glow-resist? When you meditate? When you create? When you throw an invisimagical moment? When you do “a little of the contrary”? When you have some unexpected two seconds behavior? When you show a thing of beauty? When you don’t follow, you disobey? When you…

 “A thing of Beauty…”

You can also read :

Seeing to Finesse amid Chaos
The “Titanic Octet” state : stop panicking & arrange twinkles

 

Thanks for reading!

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When you don’t get signs anymore…

We all read about signs. Coincidences. Synchronicity. You get helped when you need it. You meet the good persons, etc.

You can also read : Coincidences? Are you serious?

But… what does it mean when you do get signs anymore?? You can go move through your life without being on the look out, or you can search them like crazy : nopething.

A few hypothesis :

  • I get signs, but I don’t “get” them
  • I don’t understand
  • I forgot how to “read” them
  • No more signs… is a sign
  • I have to manage by myself
  • The one who sent me signs is dead
  • The one who sent me signs lets me rest, gives me a break
  • The one who sent me signs wants me to reconnect with reality without looking out for them
  • I have to pass a milestone before receiving more
  • I finished my quota. No more signs in stock. F.
  • I disappointed my signs sender
  • I miss an ingredient to get them. Meeting people? Traveling? Creating?
  • An activity which opens a canal
  • I need to switch on my inner antennas, to make energy circulate
  • I am at the point I don’t need signs anymore, therefore I suppose I’m ready and I have to act immediately – but I have no clue what to do, dobidou
  • All this crybaby “signs” thing is bouleshit, you’d better understand by yourself if you’re on the right path or not. Have a glass of wine. Cheers!

 

What would you add? What happens?

 

Have a nice day! Thanks for reading!

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Instagram : marso1107

 

 

 

“Museums are dwellings that house only thoughts” – Proust on Rembrandt

“Museums are dwellings that house only thoughts”, wrote Proust in a little essay about Rembrandt, paintings and museums.

You’ll find the book if you need it. Here’s in brief what he says :

People go visit museums (ex : Rembrandt), they see paintings : horses, ladies, a necklace, a window, a light, a tree, etc… Like a list of elements, in line. Then they… notice some links between Rembrandt’s paintings. Textures, common elements, moods, colors he used…

But at one moment Proust says that a walk in a museum is interesting for a thinker only if suddenly he has an idea – which seems a rich one, and would likely engender richer other ones…

 

Tool : What do you think? Should Art be appreciated “as it is”, for pleasure? Or should it be analyzed, to maybe trigger you own ideas? Is it utilitarian? What would it be bad?

 

“…comme une promenade dans un musée n’aura d’intérêt véritable pour un penseur que quand en aura d’un coup jailli une de ces idées qui aussitôt lui paraissent riches et susceptibles d’en engendrer d’autres précieuses”.

Thanks for reading!

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Proust : “Beautiful books are written in a kind of foreign language”

“Beautiful books are written in a kind of foreign language”.

 

Isn’t it true? What about other textfields? Articles? Theater plays? Dialogs in a movie? Blogs?

It’s about style, but not only. It’s about strangeization (adding little strange elements in the words flow to raise the reader’s eyebrows) but not only.

 

I blogged for eight years in French, and then now I write in English, precisely because it’s not my native language. I have to stay simple, to let go, I have to admit I’m not skilled enough to write as I would have liked to. I wrote an article about it : Writing in another language.

…until I realized it can be pleasant or funny for English readspeakers to read my warped little articles here :

  1. I make mistakes (I’m sorry for that!)
  2. I make mistakes on purpose
  3. I add French words in the phrases (so there), et voilà !
  4. I often hesitate between two words and then I aggregate them in a forfun way…

 

But I think Proust says more. I like this idea of inventing a slightly weird style in your own native language, when you write. This is a little string in the harp of writing creativity, I agree, but to me it’s an important string.

When I discover a new blog, I explore the ideas it presents, of course, but I really LOVE to find little leaning elements, the raising eyebrows kind…

written in a kind of foreign language

Yes sometimes it goes a bit far. I remember my shock when I began to read Faulkner, with his risky unpunctuated flows of conscience pages. Or Joyce, of course.

 

In France, the infinite, complex and delicious pages of Marcel Proust, the false spoken style of Céline, the gorgeous style of Colette or Jean Giono, the toxic pleasures of Marguerite Duras. I’m French. I read them in an awe, surprised and amazed by how they dare to write.

I do wonder how translators try to… transmit this in English!

 

Tools :

Is it a tool? Do you think about it when you write? How?

 

I could hands can see cooling fingers invisible swan-throat where less than Moses rod the glass touch tentative not to drumming lean cool throat drumming cooling the metal the glass full overfull cooling the glass the fingers flushing sleep leaving the taste of dampened sleep in the long silence of the throat I returned up the corridor, waking the lost feet in whispering battalions in the silence, into the gasoline, the watch telling its furious lie on the dark table.

Faulkner, The Sound and the Fury

 

(yes it’s about a guy in the night searching of the carafe of water in darkness)

 

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<< Virginia Woolf would sit down to thank a friend for sending her a slab of nougat from Saint-Tropez, but, put in mind of France by the package, she soon found herself talking only of the novel. “My great adventure is really Proust,” she wrote, “I am in a state of amazement; as if a miracle were being done before my eyes. How, at last, has someone solidified what has always escaped—and made it too into this beautiful and perfectly enduring substance? One has to put the book down and gasp. The pleasure becomes physical—like sun and wine and grapes and perfect serenity and intense vitality combined.” >>

 

 

You’re great / You’re not great anymore : has your talent evaporated?

Break-ups are interesting – for this little dial.

When your lover is your lover, he (or she) admires what you do. And who you are, obviously.

You’re a great poet, a “great photographer”, a great musician, a great lecturer. “You’re great my love!”. “I love your work to much!”.

That’s cool, that’s common, that’s very invigorating : you have talent!

But after the break-up you’re not. You’re not “anymore”.

Blehhh!

You’re not that good anymore. You’re not a good photographer. You music is boring. You poems, lame. Shame on you, now! It seems that exes are exes.

Well, so what? Where’s the truth, Brady?

Your mind wonders. Your brain thinks. Your engine engines :

  • Maybe you “suddenly” are not good anymore really. You lost it!
  • Maybe he/she changed his/her mind.
  • Maybe he/she was fake from the beginning : you’ve never been good! Bim!
  • Maybe you stayed talented, gifted, but he/she won’t admit it. Pride.
  • Maybe you’re good, but he/she’s not interested now.
  • Maybe he/she found better. It’s relativism. You’re good but less good than.
  • Maybe he/she HAS to stay silent. Because.

 

What do you think? What happened?

Thanks for reading!

 

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