Hashem, I am asking for life from You – but not the life of an animal who merely exists to fulfill its bodily desires. I am asking for a life in which each day I can work to fulfill the tachlis of why You put me here in this world.
Feeling nostalgic today. Longing for the past. Not mine but ours. We have fallen into an eternal present where everything that happens is obsessively ′′ cartographed “. The chance to process has vanished as time has vanished, losing the ability to transform into memory. Every fact equals another. In the background there is insisting an endless comment and the feeling is that it’s an empty talk, which never really exists, since there’s no longer a real object of conversation, of comparison. There are no longer events that surpass us and on the track of which we are stubbornly standing. Nothing that deserves to be archived in the remittance of Memory and History.
And then, inevitably, I remember the last Fellini, the one of the moon’s voice, when the naive protagonist, melancholy poet and in love, summarily says: ′′ Yet I believe that if there was a bit of silence, everyone Let’s keep quiet, maybe we can understand something “.
So what happens to the sense, notion, and identity of your face dissolved and rearranged into pieces ?
Like the French artist Armelle Caron explores in her playful series “Everything Tidy” doing to cities what Ursus Wehrli does to art. Deconstructing the familiar grid representations into “tidy” graphic anagrams. Dissect the symbolism, analyze the message.
The reinforcements are in place: the sand, the cement, the stones, the water to bury the archives are missing. Behind, all around, between two cracks, thrive, from left to right; a piece of steel from the collapsed World Trade Center, a piece from the damaged Pentagon in DC and a rock from the crash site of UA Flight 93 (Shanksville PA). The past shines like never before, without witnesses.
I stand in amazement and wonder, what good thing did I do that pleased the Almighty and caused him to bless me so? I have reached the conclusion that the only thing I could have done to merit all this is that even in the most difficult times I never once had a complaint against the Creator. Rather, with every wave that passed over me, threatening to drown me, I bowed my head and accepted it with love.
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