La Semaine, Curiosity Journal; Integrative Seminar 2

La Semaine

la Veille

Everything fits into each other. That our earth is complimented by the beings existing on it and the skies. That our houses can only stand if built in specific angles and combinations. That our behaviour is mirrored by others. That our parents behaviour is mirrored by us. When you take just one piece, it seems to be redundant, unnecessary, useless. Once you put it combination with other things it starts to align itself, find its niche, help achieve greatness in unity. When I look at the pedals from my lilies i feel the same way. How strange that these helped built a plant, nurtured by the seas and lakes and the rain from the sky. I wonder if the insects lived in the flower or the flower lived in the insects. I suppose I will never know.

Avant-hier

Sometimes as Kathryn sleeps or wakes up I observe her and think about how two people can be so close yet so distant. Though she can present me with a glance upon her perception of the world, i will never be able to grasp all her fears and joys and the intensity of her emotions. When she is sleeping she looks like she is dancing, as if she was doing ballet in her dreams. I think she is. I can only watch and assume. It reminds me of the long metro rides I undergo when I observe the people and imagine their thoughts and fears and pains. I just wish I could soothe them, wash their souls and fears and free them from their suffering. Maybe that says more about my own pain than it does about theirs.

Hier

When I was separated from the Musee D’Orsay, I began to feel as sense of loss, one of suffering. Almost as if I had suffered an addiction in the past and was on forced deprivation of this one element I did not know built up such an important part of my soul. I had been dreaming about the paintings on the far right. The oil. The colors. The strokes. I had spent hours searching for them in the slight hope I would catch a glimpse of their being from my far-away country. When I finally went there again, it was as if I was experiencing a rebirth. As if I was baptised for the first time. I lost myself in the brush strokes, in the colors, the forms. I lost myself in the exploration of the female body. The, now long lost, strong relation between concepts and the art. The subconscious step into surrealist art before surrealism was invented. The capture of the imagination of mind, the visualization of thought processes and invisible images. When I look at the paintings I feel the way I feel as if I was laying down at home, as if they were products of my own imagination. And they are just as real.

Aujourd’hui

Today I thought about how the earth and sky accommodate us. The interaction of the waters of the earth and the sky enable us to live. It is the combination of heaven and Mother Earth that guides us and shows us love and compassion everyday. As it is commonly interpreted, heaven and earth are divine, yet doesn’t the daily interaction with both signify to us that we are divine as human beings just like them? How strange that for the longest time non-living and living beings were existing alongside without ever really disturbing one another. It makes me think about one of these small water puddles on the sidewalk of Paris. The whole universe, all houses, skies, starts and beings are mirrored within them without ever disrupting their existence. I look at the puddle and the puddle looks back at me. How is it so difficult for us as humans to reflect these peaceful interactions? How can it be that corruption and greed only affects us? I wonder if I would prefer to be the puddle. Maybe.

Demain

I spent my time painting at home. I looked around me and saw familiarity in the colors and pencils are graphite laying around. Once you start working with one material you establish a relationship with the object. You might adore or despise it. Nevertheless, I think it must be agreed that these materials are equal to us, they constitute our art and use and tease us as much as we do them. But as I looked around me in the paint infused water or the back of my watercolors or the frizzed tip of my brush I realized that there was so much beauty apart from the paper, from the artwork, from the intent of creating. It was evident to me that our mere existence as humans in liberation is a subject of aesthetic. Our inter-human relationships, our use of art and language, our perception of nature and our surroundings. Sometimes as you try to force aesthetics you neglect to see the beauty that exists all around you at all times.

Après-demain

Lately, I feel as if lights of the city have been dancing with me, spinning and twisting me, even making me dizzy at times. Sometimes I find the experience of a city largely overwhelming. If humans were ever really meant to live together within a range this small. I wonder how the lights influence my moods, the sun and moon. I feel as if the juxtaposition between your mood and the lights is the most cruel at times. Like the lights are refusing to dance with you, they have another person to accommodate and comfort. But it can also go the other way around. When I am having the mean reds and I step out and the sun is offered to take me for a spin but I have to refuse seeing the differences in our rhythms. I wonder if the sun feels the same way about me and our differences in mental states. If she’s irritated, confused or even offended at times. I wonder if she and the moon dance sometime. Or maybe at all times? I don’t know but this weekend I had the slight feeling I am going to find out.

le Lendemain

How odd that we distinguish between different elements. Similar to the white of the snow and the white of a flower, you don’t and can’t know where which one ends and where which begins. I think colors, patterns and object overflow into each other, unite with others and create a complete picture in our perception. Isn’t it interesting how we always hold onto the “Scientific” Interpretation of our existence and reality if we can’t distinguish between objects and beings at other times? Doesn’t this prove that reality as such can and will never exist? Maybe that is what’s so frightening about it. It makes one wonder what constitutes a normal and sane mind and leads you to the realization that there is no such thing as that.

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