In this somewhat regular letter, some sprinkles of my wanderings through philosophy, culture, art and, well, life. An attempt to ease some ruffled spirits, perhaps. Mine, at least. This is me on the internet.
Well hello there,
In this letter, first some news, then some fragments of life, and then no letter. The letter is being written, it’s about ‘trying’, and I am, but not too hard.
First, some house-keeping from my house: there is a website now bearing my name because it’s mine; there you’ll find the various (Dutch & English) projects, programs and podcasts I have done, made, plan to do, created, facilitate and dream about. I might also be irregularly posting some blog posts on there. We’ll see. It’s a work in progress, as is everything.
HIGHLIGHT REEL:
(for the Dutch-speaking people out there)
Two silent day retreats coming up, November 23rd and February 16th, sign up if in need of some silence!
Furthermore, an online program with Matthijs Schouten is coming up, starting on the 18th of January.
House keeping done. Time for some fun.
No time for a letter, unfortunately, so I’ll just leave these fragments of life right here:
Watching the quite quite very very funny and at times quite poignant Derry Girls, hearing ‘Zombie’, thinking of this beautiful performance of the song (from min 11:45):
Then, reading the comments.
‘I cannot help but shed some tears for the beauty we lost in 2018.’
Beauty, indeed.
Youtube comments can be helpful, funny, and very relatable, as is the case here:
“I’m literally screaming in mind (sic) “attracts me like no other lover” like I’m gonna fly in a time machine and give them the missing lyrics… feels surreal.”
Although John Lennon’s suggestion may have been best to settle with. Cauliflowers being very attractive and what not.
I didn’t know the song ‘I, me, mine’ before I saw the Beatles’ Get Back documentary. I like it very much. And not just because of the background of the song.
Here is some background on the song.
I came across some new information about Henry the 8th:
“Henry is also memorabel for his chronic wife addiction. He had six wives, all called Catherine. He was a Catherine-aholic, or Catholic for short. He got through so many Catherines he actually got bored of killing them and had to invent a new way of getting rid of them, called divorce.”
I’m late to Cunk. A friend sent me this clip. Ten hours of Philomena Cunk later, I can confidently share that in my humble opinion, this is funny:
From Cunk to Gold:
I’m also ‘late’ (whatever that means) to many a famous artist. Here is some Andy Goldsworthy. Here is more.
“Some of the changes that occur are too beautiful to be described as simply decay.”
“Art can show you what is there. I'm always amazed how blindingly obvious things are which I'd never noticed.”
From this interview.
“Sometimes I feel embarrassed but I have to get on with it.”
UMBO!!
- a bohemian wanderer, a life of purposeful laziness, and a poet of curiosity
For a very short and beautifully written ‘biography’ of the German photographer Umbo, click here.
This paragraph is just too good:
“Umbo comes across as a kind of Huck Finn figure, resistant to being ‘sivilized’– an anti-bourgeois bohemian wanderer who slept in the woods and lived a life of purposeful laziness. But he was also a poet of curiosity: look at it this way, not that. By 1926 he’s in Berlin and kipping in the Tiergarten - he’s looking at the city’s ripped backsides, gettting a heat by riding on the Ring-Bahn. At the Romanisches Café he collapses through near starvation.”
Purposeful laziness eh? I’m in.
Elegies and arctics go together quite well, as Einaudi (and the Arctic) prove:
I’m playing this song on the piano now. I am actually going to perform it tonight (for my piano teacher and some invitees).
(Un)fortunately I don’t have a backdrop of icebergs falling at EXACTLY THE RIGHT MOMENT for dramatic effect. I suspect Greenpeace detonated some charges. Or Mother Nature crying out for help. One of the two.
Two songs I’m listening to, two songs I like.
“Whatever happens now is for Arthur.”
Another beautiful letter from Nick Cave, on loss and ‘a beautiful, complex, earned love that is brought to you from the other side of devastation’:
Also, start playing that guitar/piano/didgeridoo, start singing, learn to dance the funky chicken, get to that sculpture class NOW and be “the obscene and joyous embodiment of a fool’s errand.” We are waiting.
THERE IS NO TIME TO WASTE!
All right! Hope reading this letter didn’t feel like wasting time, and maybe next time there will actually be a letter! I’ll try.
Love,
from,
Louis