miércoles, 30 de octubre de 2013

What Yaiza inspired me and today readings

"I never, even for a moment, doubted what they’d told me. This is why it is that adults and even parents can, unwittingly, be cruel: they cannot imagine doubt’s complete absence. They have forgotten." - Foster Wallace, All that



I do not rank real art among the ideologies, although art does have a quite particular and specific relationship with ideology. (...)   It is essential to take the words which make up this first provisional definition literally if we are to avoid lapsing into an identification of what art gives us and what science gives us. What art makes us see, and therefore gives to us in the form of 'seeing ', 'perceiving ' and 'feeling ' (which is not the form of knowing ), is the ideology from which it is born, in which it bathes, from which it detaches itself as art, and to which it alludes. 


And suddenly we can peer it, it's as easy as opening the tips of your fingers a bit once they are inside of a box, once you've had the first glace.
Then you keep reading, unconsciously colliding your world with the text's. I would say that it's more like a mirror, you, in that moment, are more like a mirror than like a vessel. Every single word just as every single beam of light, has it own reflection on the mirror. Or the irregular surface that your self compounds. Fruitful. Yeah, and one day it can happen that some of these words just get stucked in one of the ckracks you have. As a surface I mean. And then, then you're most likely fucked up. But also then you get something that a superficial person would call “real” that overused beam of light, an emotion or something similar. It affects you, I mean. It is the same feeling as the one that you have when someone is touching something of yours really personal. But it is funny, cause you are the reader, so actually you are the one that is touching someone else's really personal stuff.

Appart from all this, I can only say that I hate that bullshit about that not all those who wander are lost (overused beam of light). I mean, I wander, and I'm lost.
 

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