This is not #Quaranthropology: A real problem for me this spring is the fact that I’ve always been attracted to lonely men as opposed to men in groups. But this April, I just can’t tell if they’re real loners or just… Continue Reading →
When I was a teenager, I loved skiing. I loved the freedom, the speed and the adrenaline of it. Once, I had this dream in which all the joys of skiing turned into a nightmare: It was Word War 3… Continue Reading →
I watched the Pope giving the Urbi et Orbi blessing yesterday. While it was about hope, visually, it communicated something entirely different.It made me think of the essay The Mass Ornament by Siegfried Kracauer (1963), in which he looks at… Continue Reading →
My WFH hit a new low yesterday… Quite literally… But you know what, I might as well enjoy this messy improvised bedroom professionalism: The desk is a board I found in #trash. As the sticker shows, it must have belonged to… Continue Reading →
Future memory… #Quaranthropology: the solitude triggers memories from the past, intensifies impressions of the present and urges me to anchor everything so I can recall this in the future. After all, this time is all about the future and this… Continue Reading →
I wonder if this is a new aesthetic and style of photos that we’ll be taking in times of social distancing. If it is, we’ll need a name for it and an iconic tool, perhaps a whole new innovation for… Continue Reading →
I’m thinking if this bird is trying to people watch and if it’s maybe slightly confused by all these humans locked down. And as I’m thinking of animals and lock downs, I’m wondering if, when this is over, we need… Continue Reading →
I normally feel like a bit of a misfit: thinking about death and the meaning of life, studying people, contemplating what the truth is… I’ve been called “dark”, “intense”, “negative”…. Whatever. Weirdly, in times of pandemic, all these idiosyncrasies come… Continue Reading →
I find it interesting that as my brain is trying to make sense of this situation, my involuntary memory (as Proust would call it) triggers various memories that take me back to various times and places… Empty supermarket takes me back to socialism, mistrust… Continue Reading →
© 2024 this bloody place — Powered by WordPress
Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑