Kindness
28 Thursday Apr 2022
Posted in INSTRUMENTS
Author Archives: S/O
perishability
27 Wednesday Apr 2022
Posted in Uncategorized
Once dead decomposition will begin with having to get rid of all the physical garbage left behind since the first day; splitting its territory into waste and compost, mindlessly waiting a long time on a bench for some dark edges of memory, the black needle in the haystack, contemplating the spores flying in the fog. Task accomplished of becoming an ant or honey, being reborn as a man in the middle of the desert, carving out a salvation for the soul as quickly as possible. Spiritual work ad aeternam finding the virgin angle from which to justify the decomposition, hearing the brilliance of the flint in the fire. Waking up, making clay. From the grain of salt of once sweat, erect the dam against the disbelievers and the mourners (among whom you unfortunately recognize those you love).
The world enters us and departs, just as language and image and idea are imprinted upon our consciousness, considered, forgotten, passed on, released.
In the meantime leave nothing to chance, to rickety episodes: to make the deep cellars transparent, to experiences, to the possibilities of humanity, for a new humanity.
Terraforming the moon / Invent gravity traps, inhabit the stars.
22 Friday Apr 2022
Posted in Uncategorized
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“At least 2 billion Earth-sized planets are believed to be habitable in our galaxy,” according to a study published by the American Academy of Sciences.
“This morning, after hearing an astronomer talk about billions of suns, I gave up washing myself: why wash again? » Cioran.
Fomenko
12 Tuesday Apr 2022
Posted in Uncategorized
“When the Baal Shem Tov, the founder of Hasidism, had a difficult task before him, he would go to a certain place in the woods, light a fire and meditate in prayer—and what he had set out to perform was done. When a generation later the “Maggid” of Meseritz was faced with the same task he would go to the same place in the woods and say: We can no longer light the fire, but we can still speak the prayers-and what he wanted done became reality.
Again a generation later Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sassov had to perform this task. And he too went into the woods and said: We can no longer light a fire, nor do we know the secret meditations belonging to the prayer, but we do know the place in the woods to which it all belongs–and that must be sufficient; and sufficient it was.
But when another generation had passed and Rabbi Israel of Rishin was called upon to perform the task, he sat down on his golden chair in his castle and said: We cannot light the fire, we cannot speak the prayers, we do not know the place, but we can tell the story of how it was done.
And, the story which he told had the same effect as the actions of the other three.” Gershom G. Scholem.“ Schocken Books, 1954.
Water-gathers
10 Sunday Apr 2022
Posted in Trips
Far from the air breathed by noisy people, the distance separates you from the surfaces, it does not cover any of them, you have finished walking the labyrinth, circulating in the architectures, tasting its lines of flight, colliding with its angles, sliding through the programmed virtual circuits of the past where others tell you, you drive, the leaves of the trees hollow out in pockets of wind, you forget the road, only let the water gathers you.
The earth,the wind fall and flow, the water gathers, the water rises, the water rises in silence, connects night to day, grows on the horizon, the water trembles the wind, suspends the round flights, wrinkles the clouds, water collects the remaining crashes of frosts and blazes, water disperses the wandering flowerless flowers, water collects the weary clouds and the sweat of the earth, water recomposes the lost colonies, the water loses memory and marries all forgetfulness, the rain falls, the water wriggles, dazzles as far as the eye can see, the water cracks, springs up in the caves, gleans the seeds, takes shelter in the fruits, water will not extinguish the fire, water will prefer the night.
Free command
08 Friday Apr 2022
Posted in Trips, Truth, War and peace
Free like the first hunter-gatherer returning to the forest. The wild space resembles you. You stem the tide looking forward to change. New patterns of actions, new commandements where life eats the origins and is eaten by it.
Extend
04 Monday Apr 2022
Posted in Body
We become accustomed to all strangeness through pratice and time; but the more I haunt myself and know myself, the more my deformity astonishes me, the less I hear it.
Contre les âmes voutées
04 Monday Apr 2022
Posted in Uncategorized
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Neither bow down or prostrate
17 Thursday Mar 2022
Posted in Jewish wisdom, Jewishness, Uncategorized
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“All the king’s servants who were in the king’s gate would kneel and prostrate themselves before Haman, for so had the king commanded concerning him, but Mordechai would neither kneel nor prostrate himself” Esther 3:2
“But man seeks to bow before that only which is recognized by the greater majority, if not by all his fellowmen, as having a right to be worshipped; whose rights are so unquestionable that men agree unanimously to bow down to it. For the chief concern of these miserable creatures is not to find and worship the idol of their own choice, but to discover that which all others will believe in, and consent to bow down to in a mass. It is that instinctive need of having a worship in common that is the chief suffering of every man, the chief concern of mankind from the beginning of times. It is for that universality of religious worship that people destroyed each other by sword. Creating gods unto themselves, they forthwith began appealing to each other: “Abandon your deities, come and bow down to ours, or death to ye and your idols!” And so will they do till the end of this world; they will do so even then, when all the gods themselves have disappeared, for then men will prostrate themselves before and worship some idea.” Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Your “horse” to acquire a language
15 Tuesday Mar 2022
Posted in Childhood, Fiodor Dostoïevski
“I never could understand people like Tolstoy, in love with the family archives with their epic poems made of domestic memories. I repeat: my memory is not of love, but of hostility, and it labors not at reproducing, but at distancing the past. For an intellectual of mediocre background, memory is useless, it would suffice for him to talk about the books he had read, and his biography would be complete, where for fortunate generations, the epic poem was spoken in hexameters and in chronicles, for me, there stands a gaping sign, and between me and the century there lies an abyss, a ditch filled with time that murmurs :What did my family wish to say? I do not know. It had been stuttering since birth, and yet it had something to say. This congenital stuttering weighs heavily on me and on many of my contemporaries. We were not taught to speak but to stammer – and only by listening to the swelling noise of the century and being bleached by the foam on the crest of its wave did we acquire a language.” Ossip Mandelstam
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