French week at the uni. Had to endure, suffer the torments of listening to a Frenchman talk about some old crusty French poet. Not the poetry itself, mind you, just the poet! For Pete's sake. Well, at least it wasn't Vogon. And all in search of a crepe, which wasn't half bad but, as you can guess from the photo above, nothing like the original ones that I wolfed down in Paris...me down with crepeititas. Travel broadens the mind-and one's girth.A human trapped in a whale's body, or so I've been told. Looks more like I'm on drugs with that puffed up face. But at least a rare appearance of Ubo, with his old military mustache, Turkish-style, methinks. The dougal, meanwhile, was busy taking photos of empty chairs and other artistic things like that.
Jules:
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9 comments:
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what r these primitive marks, dear child? let me guess...do they represent the number of crepes you polished off in one sitting when you were in paris? :-))
b, this choice of pic-and i'm not taking it seriously, as prompted in your rule of rules- reminded me of orhan pamuk, lovely essay about his father...[when other fathers would speak of generals}...my father would tell em about the streets of paris and and seeing sartre & camus...don't know why their image stayed with me as a memorable parent-child moment.
what makes you think i wasn't trying to count the crepes that _you_ 'polished off' in paris? too few 'primitive' marks? :-)
what was the poet, by the way? (assuming you got the name after all :-).
is this jardin du luxembourg? i also took photos of "empty chairs and other artistic things like that" there :-)
Because I know that that would be so rude to comment like that and because I know you are such a delightful and charming young lady that you would never dream of being so rude.
too few. Ha! and double ha! I take back my last comment about being charming...
:-)
dunno the name, my mind was too preoccupied on thinking about the crepes outside! Some french dude interested in birds, rocks, and God-or something like that.
yes, it is. love that place!
Really? have you ever posted any? how utterly bizarre, though! Strange creatures, your tribe. and to think, you were created from my rib!
here:
http://thebeautifulfoolishnessofthings.blogspot.com/2010/06/148.html
(though allusive chairs are not your business, unless some of them, at least one, could be turned into thrones, contradicting the poem :-)
but why did you choose this text? it goes against everything you believe in: "no compromise" and, of course, that "all would have thrones" makes you sound like a Red.
oh but if you had paid attention :-P this blog is not 'mine' in the sense of the Bridge, it is the result of a cooperation with another artist, Michael Tweed, and he writes the little 'poems', if one may call them that, for each photo. i think one should see the text on the background concept of the project, which stresses contemplation, in the line of east-asian philosophies, like zen buddhism etc. here i think that Michael alludes to the attitude of a bodhisattva, enlightened beings who, out of a great compassion, choose to return on the earth instead of remaining in a nirvana-state, to help out other people, their vow being not to rest until _all_ the sentient beings have reached enlightenment.
i think that the possible similarity to communist doctrines is due to the inherently religious/mystical aspects of the ideology, which make it a kind of Ersatzreligion.
oh.
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