The Inside Idea of North

Had a good laugh this morning, having coffee on the bed and imagining a tropical happy flowery trumpets ambiance…

Which would be like being in hell, right?

I can’t talk much before my coffee, I don’t want a crazy happy dog (who wanna jog with me) at breakfast, and I don’t want a Cuban/Mexican brass band near my bed…

I need quietness – maybe a little Satie piano music if you want. I’m happy to see the cat lounging on the bed, and a few triangles of sun on the wooden floor. Basking silence…

 

I live in the North of France, it’s 34°F this morning, with a perfect cold wintery sun outside leaving bright still frames everywhere in the room. I talked yesterday with a guy who lived a few years in the South of France, who told me he was depressed by the solid blue skyed “great weather” of Nice or Toulouse : “Give me passing clouds, mist, showers and snow, give me low angle lights and pale blue skies…”.

It’s relative, because North of France is the very South of Norway, for example, right? Do people in North California have the same feeling, the “comfort of being from the North” (even if the State is only 170 years old)? Then, what about Oregon? what’s the North, for Morocco or Tunisia?

Is Autumn comforting to you? Like “Ahhh we’re home!”? Do you prefer Sibelius (Finland) or Villa Lobos (Brazil)? Cat or Dog? North or South? Have a walk in a forest, or party in Cuban bar?

Have a nice sunday!

BooksTeaCat, SportsBeerDog & their Social Interactions

 

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Pink Floyd, MBTI & other Zodiac like games

ONE

The problem with Astrology is when people use their sign as a way to be lazy, to be a handful, to be an asshole. “I’m not even sorry I can’t do nothing I’m a Scorpio you know?”.

Zodiac : lazinesses or challenges?

TWO

The problem with other human-sortings like MBTI is different. People use it to swagger like idiots. “I’m an INTJ, I’m great, I’m unique, I’m VERY rare, I’m an empath”.

Let’em boast, will you?

#INFJ & #INTJ : The Tango Feeling/Thinking

THREE

You’re a smart person and you probably all this is “magic thinking”. It’s a categories game, and these are vague enough to appear magic : “Oh fuck it’s EXACTLY SO ME!”.

Not a big deal. Finding your Zodiac sign or your MBTI is a pretty accurate way to think about yourself, about what you like and dislike, about the way you could evolve.

“The noble man improves his qualities, not his flaws”

…said a wise man somewhere. Oui?

FOUR

If you realize it’s a game, a classification name in which you try to push yourself down a hole, a basin, you can use ANY other structure to think about who you are.

This morning I talked with a colleague about a GREAT documentary I DVD-burned for him about the Making of Dark Side of the Moon, Pink Floyd. It’s very interesting, of course, to hear these guys telling how they wrote “Money” or worked with Alan Parsons.

But I said to him : “I’m Richard Wright, of course!”.

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FIVE

Wright is the guy on the right. He’s quiet, he’s shy, he’s the keyboards player. He bright calm, fields of sounds.

Waters is the tortured guy, the tortured thinker, a great bass player and an original singer. He’s the soul of Pink Floyd.

Gilmour is the handsome singer, handsome guitar player. He has “this” sound. And a splendid voice too! He seems the strong soul Waters probably needed to channel his too many ideas.

Mason is the drummer (on the left). And as usual he’s funny, smart, fast, the relaxed watcher of the mess. He wrote a great, great book about the group.

SIX

See me coming?

You can play this game with other groups, with the Beatles, with the Police (which is a great trio for Types : Sting the leader, great bass player, fantastic voice, Copeland the crazy energetic drummer, Summers the smart and cultivated older guitarist. And they made reggae music with that! Who else?

SEVEN

Tool : find a classification in a group of types, a baseball team, a choir, a team. Find who you are. And begin to think : Why are you this person? Can you learn from him/her? What are his/her patterns, tools? What does he/she BRINGS to the structure? Who do you need to complete a group?

You go!

Thanks for reading!

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“What’s bitten him?”

ONE

If you like to explore knowledge and history of men, you probably, like me, from time to time choose a field and dig it completely with excitement – you draw maps, you read, you try to find your own gold nuggets.

What’s bitten him?

John Ford’s cinema, or Kurozawa, or Brian de Palma. Or a painter : Hopper or Da Vinci, or Monet. Music ? Ravel or Shostakovich? Churchill, Lincoln, a French king? An architect, a poet? Faulkner?

Exploring is a joy. Books, conversations, documentaries, Internet. It’s like a map or a puzzle you complete little by little.

At one moment, “vous avez fait le tour”, as we say in French, you finished to turn around it : all angles. You have your little trunk, full of treasures. From time to time you like to complete it, to add a book…

TWO

But some fields, some characters are continents, it’s too much, too complex to examine all angles… Why?

  • Because the subject is too big. Choose Puccini or Orson Welles, you’ll be OK. But study the US Revolution, Napoléon, or the Italian Renaissance, and you’re dead.
  • ..
  • Because the subject has too many links. It happened to me with the US Civil War. I read about Lincoln, slavery, battles, Indian natives, daily life at this time, consequences in Europa, “just after the war”, black problems in the XXth century…
  • ..
  • Because a personality or his art is too complex to understand completely. Manet in painting (a constant flow of paradoxes and possibilities), Mahler in classical music (not that “hard” to listen, but with so many facets and complexities), probably Proust in literature…
  • ..

THREE

All this is a bit fractal, too : you can pick up a very tiny subject and explore it very well and so precisely that it becomes… infinite.

  • A tiny subject can be an “dot”. One movie director from Norway. The diary of your grandmother. An unknown painter from Provence.
  • It also could be a slight slice of a big event. One day in Germany during the WWII. A single battle of the Revolutionary War.
  • Something besides. You like Stravinsky? Then you could study his influence.
  • A much less known artist, or political man, or geographic place. Try Koechlin in French music. Or the guy who helped Lincoln with trains during the war. Study the city of Baku, in Azerbaijan.
  • Choose another angle. Instead of exploring Tolstoï, read about his wife. Don’t study Communism, but the Mccarthysm againts movie makers, the life of John Reed, or daily life in USSR’s during collectivization.
  • Move a cursor : don’t read about the Russian Revolution but how was the daily life there twenty years before.

There’s a danger of being stuck for your whole life : the subject your chose is so enthralling that you’ll never quit it.

FOUR

What subject(s) did you choose? Why? Did it end quickly or did you stay for years? Do you wait to have more time to attack a big one?

Thanks for reading!

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My Archetype? Koala. With glasses…

My Archetype? Koala. With glasses…

More like my Animal Totem, right?

Therefore I’m slow and sweet, I’m quiet, I’m a reader. And I want to cuddle!

But my Astrological animal is the Taurus.

(With glasses?)

Oh my.

Therefore I’m stubborn, strong, gentle, trustful and steady, and slow to move. But when it begins you can’t stop any Taurus. You have to work a lot to make him angry. I love nature. Gimme a tree and some sun and a book and I’m in paradise.

But the ascending of this spectacled beast is Gemini.

Therefore this Taurus has some balloons in his back. It fastens his head. It brings casualness and some speed. Conversation skills too.

But MBTI says I’m INTJ or INFJ. It depends. I love (it’s the subject of a dozen of my blog articles) to think I’m bifaceted, a balance seeker. Think/Feel. INFTJ, voilà. Introvert for sure. Empathy : too much…

But Enneagrams says I’m 5. The Observer. Everybody runs, therefore I stay quiet. “Replacing experience with concepts” (oh, this is what I do here!). Terror : incompetence…

 

Oh well. I’m a mess. Like all of you, right?

Have a nice day!

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Hicks lunch-mosquitoezing at work : What to do?

It’s lunch break.

You Introvert, I know you! You have your quiet spot to eat, right?…

Suddenly you hear what seems to be a one-man band screaming his joy, yelling in laughter, bringing a small group into noisy happiness. Hahaha!

Hicks.

  1. They are happy
  2. They are noisy
  3. They like pranks
  4. Rib-tickling funny stories they love
  5. They speak like “He said this – then I said that”, in loops
  6. They have big voices
  7. They love TV
  8. Laughing hard

You inner-facepalm while you have to eat, then you need strategies.

  1. Go out for a walk under the trees.
  2. Choose weird hours to eat in quiet.
  3. Read
  4. Mentally train yourself to close your ears
  5. Find another human-being to conversation with
  6. Earphones
  7. Acceptance Amor-Fati driven
  8. Wait for coffee breaks : they smoke (they always smoke)

You can quit, but that’s silly. Hicks are like mosquitoes. Everywhere.

Have a nice day!

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The Happy Lonely Christmas Liars

“Tonight then, I Christmas eve dinner alone and I know you will believe me if I say you that this “freedom” brings me a pretty much voluptuous feeling. Music reading silence peace.”

This phrase can makes us think about the state of life where you need it – and need to write about it.

It’s maybe next to another state (when you have a family, you mostly want to be with them, right? Oh but maybe you are… and wish for quiet instead). It can be after it. Before it. Because of remoteness (your lover lives in another part of the planet). Well : circumstances

But also : a real love for this state. “Music reading silence peace” lovers, call them introverts or quiet people, those who like silence and know that their own head is good company. Some days, you love or you need to be apart, apart from the people & parties.

Sipping moods in summer nights, the “outside the party” Type…

This friend also wrote me this :

“Yesterday evening I was invited to dinner with X and a few of her friends. It’s been like a trial :

  • Why do you always wear black
  • Why don’t you talk much
  • Why don’t you go out
  • Why a quiet face and nervous hands
  • I know well that you are like this
  • I know well that you are like that
  • You are one of those women who this
  • You are one of of those women who that”

 

Horror, she wrote.

Hmm?

Have a nice day!

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Instagram : _bodylanguage_

Soccer Games (in shorts) (in the mud) (good grief)

When you’re not really interesting in soccer, you just watch and see two dozens of guys in shorts running after a ball. After all, we all need to be kept busy and to manage our time. Therefore, why not? Let’s take oneself in hand, and run after a ball, in a team! (important : in shorts).

I always have a bunch of naive questions I ask to my soccer lovers friends.

  • Why don’t these guys play with women? Co-ed football?
  • Why the hell is the team of “your” city the best? Imagine we do the same with movies or writers… Why don’t you watch all styles all teams and choose the one you love the most? No, OK, it’s your city, they’re the best. OK OK. OK.
  • Why don’t you all handle two balls at the time? It’d be funnier!

 

Introverts and other guys with glasses will try to find a philosophy here. Camus said he liked to play the goal keeper, where he learned a good lesson :

“The ball never comes from where you expected her to come”.

Like problems and betrayals in life?

(pardon my French)

 

When I was a teenager, my spectacled friend Jean-Marc and I (there are always two guys with glasses in a classroom, right?) we had to play soccer, and we hated it. Œuf Corse.

It’s November, it’s cold, drizzling. I want quiet, an easy chair and a fire and a cat and a book. Not to run in the dirt with idiots!

Bahhhh I loved that bunch of screaming guys : they were running like lemmings after the ball. It’s cute. Look at’em all! YAHHHHH.

Needless to say that the two poor shivering Jean-Marc and Jean-Pascal, in shorts and drizzled eyeglasses, were not in the group clucking like headless hens, because having found one or two functioning neurons in our bored head, we were, on the playground, waiting, a little bit outside of the circle of fools.

Re-needless to say that, oh fuque, inescapably, the ball ALWAYS suddenly spouted out of the group towards JM (or JP). Shit, shit and shit. What do I do now?? Mired for good.

With a good dose of audacity, I tried then to do the thing : running in cold November, in shorts, with a ball in the middle of my legs! Obviously, with a horde of yelling pimpled teenagers locked on to me…

When then reach me – if they don’t, I fall (because of the mess ball/legs) – in a panic gesture, I hit the ball. PAF. Anywhere. PAF! Go get it, you fools! Let the fetchers fetch.

Sigh… My hands on my knees, trying to catch back my breath, pfeeww, spitting my lungs, listening distractedly to the reproaches of Mr Sports Teacher, I’m thinking about next month’s soccer game. Oô December, “when mud on the ground is frozen in uncomfortable excrescences”.

I hear a crow. Croak! He mocks me. OK, let’s focus. Where’s the horde? I stand up and deep breathe. You go girl.

Happily, today I didn’t fell full length in the mud…

 

Thanks for reading! Have a great sunday!

 

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