The Depth of the Air is Warm & Birds are Swarming like before the End of the World

My working day finished at 6 PM today and I was surprised to find a little daylight when I was outside in the streets of Lille : “Hey, the days get longer…”.

Walking/smiling in the city dusk, I stopped suddenly : a big frightening swarm of birds was crossing the sky-street-cut over my head, like in Hitchcock’s “The Birds”. Waow!

They didn’t attack.

I had to bike for like 20 minutes to go the the animal-hospital to get my Bidou diabetic cat 2 bags of his crusty catfood I ordered this week-end on the web. The night was coming and the air was strange.

Some days, it’s COLD but you feel the air is WARM, oui? I don’t know how to say it. In France we can say “The depth of the air is cold” (“Le fond de l’air est frais”). The contrary today : Cold but with a warmy depth.

I’m sure half of you understand this concept. Not if you were born in California or Florida. Kansas? Maybe.

And indeed, the birds felt it. As I was crossing a street I passed along a big set of trees. They were CROWDED with hundreds of screeching birds, invisible in the dark shadows. Frightening. Haunting. Big sound!

The night was there almost and I biked along, thinking about this chilly chilling thing in my chin : The End of the World is for soon.

In a way, we have a retained desire for catastrophes, right? One loves the cities-in-disasters scenes, from Godzilla to explosions, meteors or earthquakes. BAOUM!

Then I thought about Marguerite Yourcenar. She was a Belgian writer, and a great thinker. She says two things about romanticism. I rebuild this from my memory because I don’t need, here, to be exact.

ONE :

One must be very romantic to dare calling for reason

TWO :

Sometimes we’re romantic enough to hope for a disaster, and we don’t realise that it has already begun

See?

I love thinkers, because they always find new ways to open a problem.

I met very few real thinkers in my life!

As always, luxury is insular : you are alone if you can’t talk about these. Only a few will be interested in questions like “For an artist, do you have to be a rebel and invent your rules, or do you have to know all the rules before going over them?”. Most of human beings think it’s fly’s masturbation, right?

I wrote many articles about Paul Valéry and writing, typical-this.

OK.

The Polar Vortex (the big pocket of icy air above the North Pole) just split this week-end (as predicted – it’s global warming doing its thing). It’s a very big mess for the weather (and weathermen are hilariously excited and in a awe). We expect to have cold and shitty weather in Europa. Maybe we’ll be frozen next week? Gasp!

For America, it’s not sure. Half of this beasty continental pole-air pocket will attack the USA in ten days. But will it go to the East like in January? Or will it attack Washington, Oregon and California, letting the East in an Early Spring paradise? No weatherman knows today, it’s too early.

It WILL be a mess, though.

Watch the birds, guys! They know.

Thanks for reading!

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The “Titanic Octet” state : stop panicking & arrange twinkles

The beginning is this : when you’re in a group, in a system, when everyone panics and runs, trying to save the situation from a complete wreckdisaster.

Imagine you’re working in a store in December. It’s crowded like hell. You need forty employees to make it work, but there’s a flu epidemic and you have ten persons on board. Donc, so, yes : it’s a disaster and everything is falling apart. Everybody runs to (try to) save the day. Mais c’est la catastrophe !

It can be fun, funny, at least sarcastically funny, right? When people begin to laugh (inside their belly, or really) because it’s all crazy, right?

This article is about AFTER that state. When you now know that the boat will sink, you and your colleagues stop trying to plugseal all holes. You take your instruments and you all quietly begin to play.

When you can’t save the situation, and after you laughed watching many little panics and disasters around you, there’s an understanding : you reach a quiet place where you feel like a zen tree in the middle of a storm.

Then, in this calm, you arrange sparkles where you can : a smile, a five-seconds quiet dialog, a treasure. You do your 2% of good thing in the middle of the catastrophe. It’s not about resistance anymore, it’s about humming, life poetry and micro-elegance :


offering glimmering moments for those who can notice it…

Breathe! Thanks for reading!

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