iris bissextiles (après j'arrête)

hier soir de rien que l'obsolète plaisir de dessiner des fleurs. c'est déjà pas mal. Et puis juste maintenant maintenant maintenant le brouillard se lève et de limbes avec cyprès mon perchoir matinal se transforme lentement blanc sur blanc blanc sous blanc les couleurs s'effilent et les oiseaux tous ensemble s'égosillent. Un rien les réjouit. Les touristes chinois s'engueulent. La ville encore toute pâle.

paraît qu'il va pleuvoir

sagesse du dimanche pour le chaud du coeur

"lorsqu'on mêle sa voix à d'autres, on est pris comme par un hameçon."
Kafka dans Le Havre de Kaurismäki

(après, aux toilettes, une jeune femme aux yeux rougis des larmes de quand ça finit bien. on s'est pas souri mais presque)

chat du matin

Quand la connection s'éclipse - c'est récurrent- je viens de bon matin pêcher le net au miradouro, et toujours c'est-à-dire souvent il y a là le chat, un mi-blanc mi-tigre qui roule ses mécaniques et m'ignore comme seuls les chats (voir hier). Bien qu'élevée aux ritournelles de la superstition francophone, je lui refuse le statut prémonitoire de l'araignée. Et chploc, chagrin, qui partout perds tes poils, va t'étirer ailleurs!

Coetzee Taking offence, essays on censorship 2

 

« Children are not, qua children, innocent. We all have been children and know –unless we prefer to forget- how little innocent we were, what determined efforts of indoctrination it took to make us into innocents, how often we tried to escape from the staging-camp of childhood and how implacably we were herded back. Nor do we inherently posses dignity. We are certainly born without dignity, and we spend enough time by ourselves, hidden from the eyes of others, doing the things that we do when we are by ourselves, to know how little of it we can honestly lay claim to. We also see enough of animals concerned for their dignity (cats, for instance) to know how comical pretensions to dignity can be.

Innocence is a state in which we try to maintain our children ;dignity is a state we claim for ourselves. Affronts to the innocence of our children or to the dignity of our persons are attacks not upon our essential being but upon constructs –constructs by which we live, but constructs nevertheless. This is not to say that affronts to our innocence or dignity are not real affronts, but that the outrage with which we respond to them is not real, in a sense of not being sincerely felt. The infringements are real ; what is infringed, however, is not our essence, but a foundational fiction to which we more or less wholeheartedly subscribe, a fiction that may well be indispensable for a just society, namely, that human beings have a dignity that sets them apart from animals and consequently protects them from being treated like animals. (it is even possible that we may look forward to a day when animals will have theit own dignity ascribed to them, and the ban will be reformulated as a ban on treating a living creature like a thing,.)

The fiction of dignity helps to define humanity and the status of humanity helps to define human rights. There is thus a real sense in which an affront to our dignity strikes at our rights. Yet when, outraged at such affront, we stand for our rigghts and demand redress, we would do well to remember how unsubstancial the dignity is on which those rights are based. Forgetting where our dignity comes from, we may fall into a posture as comical as that of the irate censor..

Life, says Erasmus’s Folly is theater : we each have lines to say and a part to play. One kind of actor, recognizing that is is in a play, will go on playing nervertheless ; another kind of actor, shocked to find he is participating in a illusion, will try to step off the stage and out of the play. The second actor is mistaken. For there is nothing outside the theater, no alternative life we can join instead. The show is, so to speak, the only show in town. All one can do is to go on playing one’s part, though perhaps with a new awareness, a comic awareness.

We thus arrive at a pair of Erasmian paradoxes. A dignity worthy of of respect is a dignity without dignity (which is quite different from unconscious or unaffected dignity); an innoccence worthy of of respect is an innocence without innocence. As for respect itself, it is tempting to suggest that this is a superfluous concept, though for the workings of the theater of life it may turn to be indispensable. True respect is a variety of love and may be subsumed under love ; to respect someone means, inter alia, to forgive that person an innocence that, outside the theater, would be false, a dignity that would be risible ».

Coetzee Taking offence, essays on censorship - 1

(We may remember that in evolutionary biology the region of the cortex given over in lower mammals to olfactory discrimination assumes in homo sapiens the function of abstract discrimination. The activity in animals called smelling is in human beeing called analytic thinking).

par omission

 

"You can create a certain presentation of yourself that has within it an excuse for the lies that you tell."

the seventh saturday of no rain

the night is growing new leaves every second 
unfurling black as new as spring
a lullaby floats just over the roofs
it's a chinese lullaby
speaking to every baby even me

..

prendre soin

a orelha abelhuda no café

- Desde domingo que não atendo o telefone. É a constipação, é a depressão, é tudo..
- Ó amorzinho, anima-te que isto é uma anedota.

la grotte qu'on ne verra jamais

eaux douces
étroits chemins
lit de larmes, corrosives
on s'en souvient on s'en oublie
sinue sinue sinueuses
vers le bas lentement
poussent
les lions accouplés se couvrent de cristaux
les rhinocéros hochent leur corne éternelle
dans le noir
mais eux connurent la lumière

please fit to fiction

"The vanishing point is the "position of honor". Pictorially, it should go to the main character." A.Loomis

... 

there is no end to the depths of lies









...

vendredi et le camion fantôme

old flame, flaming high

A ma liste de choses à faire absolument avant d'atteindre les 50 piges, un truc manquait, gros comme un boeuf, que je ne voyais nul. Mais le voilà qui m'est tombé dans l'oeil, inratable, sur un vilain papier mal photocopié. Et je suis allée ce matin porter mon costume chez la blanchisseuse. Vous pouvez me le faire pour ce soir? Bien sûr, c'est 6.60.

10 ans que je mets pas les pieds dans un dojo. On verra lundi, les bleus à la taille.

(mardi : zero bleu)

la jolie dormeuse est de Yamaguchi Soken.

hasard, regards, bâtard

ça penche

que nunca

Torna-se mais complicado acreditar na originalidade da própria voz quando se percede que somos todos muito parecidos nas nossas dores e alegrias. Mas só a partir daí é que talvez consigamos afiá-la, a voz, aprofundá-la. Processo lento, mais vale começar o mais cedo possível.
Diz a perguiça e fecha um olho.

poirnographie

ou les infortunes de l'aquarelle

un myope émotionnel

ses proches il les voit flou, trouble, ou pas du tout

mais que le lien se relâche, et l'image se précise
de loin il comprend les tensions les intentions.
les gestes même discrets
des inconnus
comme il les décode bien

the year of hiding behind hedges

1. max von sidow in incredibly loud and extremely close
2. clooney in the descendents
3. piccoli in habemus papam

immangeable

devant moi au cinéma
une femme coiffée d'un bonnet bleu tricoté
de petits tétons en spirale
brocoli fractal

"23 % dos portugueses nunca pensam na morte, 5 % sempre"

- Yesterday in the middle of a not-very-interesting computer animation about a young man who loses his father to cancer and develops a protecting insensibility that turns almost lethal, a sentence (not a citation, poor memory):

   He learned that if you don't lose hope on time, there will be nobody left to say good-by to.

- Today some guardian article about Bronnie Ware, a long-time nurse in palliative care who made a list of  the most frequent death-beds regrets she heard:

1. I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

... "Health brings a freedom very few realise, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I hadn't worked so hard.

"This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children's youth and their partner's companionship."

3. I wish I'd had the courage to express my feelings.

"Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. ... Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result."

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

" There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying."

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

" Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice....Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content, when deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again."