This part of a road trip made in 2018 came to my mind last night. The unconscious and well appreciated way on how dreams can bring you a breath. Restless motion.
To never forget the motion implied in simple routes, those common paths and known sense around, the sometimes forgotten perspective. Back to road, never ending outdoors story.
Jal, Mx.
“Tout s’effacera en une seconde. Le dictionnaire accumulé du berceau au dernier lit s’éliminera. Ce sera le silence et aucun mot pour le dire. De la bouche ouverte il ne sortira rien. Ni je ni moi. La langue continuera à mettre en mots le monde. Dans les conversations autour d’une table de fête on ne sera qu’un prénom, de plus en plus sans visage, jusqu’à disparaître dans la masse anonyme d’une lointaine génération.”
Sailing different waves before jumping into common seas. That implicit disassociation of early hours.
~ saviours | motion ~
“The paradoxical virtue of reading lies in distancing ourselves from the world so that we may make sense of it.”
Disassociated hours with a piano playing in the background. Slow and meaningful moments around. Early motion.
“I’m not telling you to make the world better, because I don’t think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave’s a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that’s what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.”
Ways to remember.
souvenir n.m.
Survivance, dans la mémoire, d'une sensation, d'une impression, d'une idée