#Toys #Portrait #Photography

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Some toys I photographed more than ten years ago…

 

Bonne journée!

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Surprising Reversibilities

– I owe you so much!
– No no no, it’s I who owe you…

 

  1. A therapist takes care of his patient.
  2. Stravinsky or Hindemith were influenced by Bach.
  3. Someone is watching and analyzing a painting.

All these three examples are simple and clear. You can draw the arrow, right?

We thinkers like to go deeper, though. To find nuances, subtleties :

  1. There are many ways of listening, of helping someone…
  2. What are the elements which makes us notice the influence?
  3. What do we seek – and find in Arts? An emotion? Links?

You can spend months on each, reading books. Refining concepts is a bliss, right? Good!

 

Today I study one thing : reversibility. It’s meeting a surprise “the other way around”, and it’s charged with intensity :

  1. A therapist suddenly talks about himself. Instead of listening, he tells his own story. The patient is suddenly captivated. This is a well known trick in this field! Psychotherapists say it gives a stronger link (therefore a power) on a patient. Adding humanity in the bond is a strange and powerful idea…
  2. Many specialists come to a point where they see where is Bach in Hindemith, but also that there is some Hindemith (1895-1963) in Bach (1665-1750). Two centuries before, OK, but you can study this the other way around – even if you think it’s “not OK”. It’s a game for spirits, to study how the now can be seen as an influence for the past.
  3. An Art lover studies a painting, a music, and he realizes it works in the other way : the piece of work moves him, changes him, teaches him, overwhelms him. You explore yourself through another person’s work. You are amazed by unconscious and historical forces at stake. Your skin (or your guts) are activated. Astonishment is a trigger for your brain. Then, maybe, you’re… slaked (and this can be in MANY ways), right?

 

A child comes from a mother, a father. But parents are also transformed by the coming. In the end, the person who is a child gives parents… motherhood and fatherhood.

Mhhh I like that. You feel that I touch something here, oui? Where, in what other examples can you imagine this reversibility process? Business? Couple? Creativity? Ads? Poetry? Where, when it’s obvious “things are going this way”, could you reverse something? Therefore what?

Thanks for reading!

 

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Nipplet Cork Pacifier Drama

In French, we call a nipple “un téton”. And a pacifier is called “une tétine”.

Therefore, you can imagine that we almost say “a nipplet” instead of “a pacifier”. Une tétine.

Makes sense, oui?

I have two daughters, they are 16 and 19, and they never had a “pacifier”.

The reason is : I am sure a pacifier is useless, and vulgar, even harmful.

A pacifier is a cork. Baby’s crying, cork him! Shut him off!

And more : A pacifier, for a baby, is an external solution. Therefore this future human being will never find a way to cope – out of a “thing”.

Later, as an adult, it’ll stay the same. Something else – or someone else – will be the fix. He’ll need a cigarette, or a bigger car, or to buy things, to try to get better. Or eating. Or pills.

A cigarette is a pacifier. Bulimia is a pacifier. Etc.

I stop here. All this cork thing is overboring. Almost as boring as paying someone to drill your nose to put a ring into it – and then you do look like a cow. Feel better now you have one? Happy? Corked?

Sucking to feel safe, it is insane. It’s deep inner drama. It creates a disastrous brain : “I need something to calm down”. Drama, problems, money, intoxications. No pacifier, it’s better. They’ll survive… You’ll survive, and find solutions from the inside of you. Knowledge.

And realizing this : there is no “solution”, eventually.

This is wisdom!

 

Dial : You had one as a kid? Thus now what is your pacifier made of?

 

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Instagram : _bodylanguage_

The courage to shatterbreak what’s crackweakening : Chronicle 19

Puritanism. The haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.

H. L. Mencken

 

Le courage de briser ce qui commence à se fêler : The courage to shatterbreak what’s crackweakening.

 

We have a French word between to break and to shatter : briser. So I’ll say shatterbreak, voilà. Briser is often used for glass, but also for the silence : We don’t say “casser le silence” (to break the silence), but “briser le silence”. More : “des bris de verre” are little pieces of broken glass. It seems that in English, “broken glass” contains “little pieces” of broken glass.

I know, split hairs… in four.

 

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There are two types of spouse : those who say nice things about their spouse in public, and those who denigrate him/her there.

 

It’s a clear splendid day of November and you have two kids. Do you go downtown in toy stores to hear your kids screaming asking and yelling at you to buy this and that, or do you go playing in the sun, watch them running under trees and hitting piles of dead leaves?

 

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Idea for a story beginning : a TV star meets someone who NEVER watches TV (he doesn’t even own one), who therefore doesn’t recognize him/her.

 

Lures. What kind? What for? Made by who? Oneself?

 

Have a nice week end!

 

JP

 

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It’s fall! Listen to Brahms! Or Takemitsu…

 

Dare to listen to this really?

 

 

“To Eat Alone”

Some recent events in my life made me a lonely man, and therefore a lonely eater.

When I was a father in a family, I was really happy to have dinner-togetherness, to cook for my tribe, to talk, listen, laugh, and feel the family’s energy around the table.

I’ve been very skeptical when I read about how Americans were losing these daily gatherings of all the big cats around the table. “Everyone is having snacks when they want, everybody’s picking things in the fridge, watch TV or eat in bedrooms”, they said. My feelings were like between “it’s not true, it’s impossible” and “oh these Americans!”.

When my daughters were little, some days I went home late, it was almost time to go to bed : I told them stories, kissed them goodnight, then I was happy to have dinner with their mother, but also alone.

I remember good summer evenings. Two cat babies sleeping, mother cat watching a movie, and me papa cat, with a cassoulet, two slices of bread and half of a bottle of Bergerac wine, eating on a tray, on my bed, in front of a wide open double-window (or should I say “French door”, really?), watching and listening birds and trees in the dusk, sshhh.

Not working on thursdays, I remember I was happy to have meal time alone, eating in silence in the kitchen, listening to the rain outside. On my table : a candle, a corner lamp, and a magazine (about movies). Maybe some Brahms chamber music too. Bliss!

Now I eat alone, but I don’t snack. I never snack, and I’m always questioning my snacking friends in America, opening different little colored bags to crinch crunch and croonch while we Skype. I’m like “Where’s your plate, dear?”. They know I eat alone, thus they’re somewhat amazed by HOW I’m eating alone. Well, that’s nothing special, but I… I’m sorry… I can’t snack. It would kill me under a blanket of depression. It’s almost : “I’m French therefore I need a plate”.

I know better, OK : I have more time, in France. We work less, we move less (distances are… different here – I go to work by bike), and… errr… I think we think that food time is worth it, too : I eat alone but it’s cooked, sliced, prepared, organized. Just a bit. I need it.

Awweee sorry for my bad English. I’m wobbling, I know it. Pardonnez-moi !

Have a nice day! Bon appétit !

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Pressure & Sabotage, a cessation process

Family. Three kids. Pressure inexplicably put on the eldest boy, who is labelled “brilliant”. “He will become a doctor”, as they proudly say. In the middle of his curriculum, he has a motorbike accident. Or develops an invalidating disease, like sclerosis. As he was not strong enough to say “No” to this pressure, he found another way to stop.

It probably sounds “too easy”, and the accident was just maybe random, but I heard that kind of story so many times that it became really fascinating. So for me it became a dial gauge to watch :

When too much pressure, watch for the accident life will invent to cease it

Pressure can be provided by family or spouse, by the situation, or by… people themselves. When people work too much, sometimes their friends begin to say : “Hey, you’re pushing too far, slow it down, pal!”. In general, they don’t stop. And then you see what life will choose to make them stop.

They suddenly fall apart, have an accident, they become sick. Life brakes for them. From time to time, it’s not even enough! They insist, they don’t understand, they move forward, so they fall more sick or they curiously get hit by a car saying : STOP, for Christ’s sake!

You, my reader, are a reasonable person, but you know… that when you’re VERY upset, light bulbs often explode when you switch on the light. PAF! It not truuuue, it’s impossible, but… it happens all the time, though.

The same way, I saw many times the house stopping people. Too much pressure, too much stress, and there’s a huge leak in the bathroom, a falling chimney, or a fire. The environment is acting silly.

Nooo, can’t be. Right?

Thanks for reading!

 

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Instagram : leahminium

Knacks for #creativity & Art Homework

I told my daughters a few tricks when in school they have to invent something and have no idea, in Art for example.

The first one is to play with a face. You can draw this and that, a bridge or a house or a butterfly, that’s cool, but if you take a face and make it weird, you’ll have a bigger impact. Like melting, or too big eyes, or a mouth on a forehead. It’s too easy : one day she copy-pasted her own eyes on her cheeks, 8 times like a spider, and got a 20/20 (you’d say A+ in US, I think), best note of her class.

The other trick is meta. “If you don’t know what to tell, tell about you not knowing what to tell”. So one day she had to write a story and had not clue of a beginning of any story. So she wrote something about a teen in a classroom writing a story. Then… the rest came fantastically easily.

Well, if you don’t know what you could blog about today, tell us about you about blogging, or your blank page, OK?

Thanks for reading!

 

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