🦋 “On the platform of a train station, late morning, early June: two women embracing after a separation of several months. Behind them, a tall fair-haired man alighting from the train carrying two suitcases. The women unspeaking, their eyes closed tight, their arms wrapped around one another, for a second, two seconds, three. Were they aware, in the intensity of their embrace, of something slightly ridiculous about this tableau, something almost comical, as someone nearby sneezed violently into a crumpled tissue; as a dirty discarded plastic bottle scuttled along the platform under a breath of wind; as a mechanised billboard on the station wall rotated from an advertisement for hair products to an advertisement for car insurance; as life in its ordinariness and even ugly vulgarity imposed itself everywhere all around them ? Or were they in this moment unaware, or something more than unaware — were they somehow invulnerable to, untouched by, vulgarity and ugliness, glancing for a moment into something deeper, something concealed beneath the surface of life, not unreality but a hidden reality : the presence at all times, in all places, of a beautiful world?” 🦋🌻
« L’image ne peut ainsi jamais tout dire, non plus qu’épuiser, seule, l’étendue ni la profondeur du dicible qu’elle indique, dont elle nous donne l’intuition. Les restes qui échappent à son puissant empire renvoient à ses limites ; ce grand dehors dont la substance et les contours sont à préciser échoue à la parole. La tâche qui incombe à l’écriture est de rendre visible, de livrer au travail du sens les pans muets de l’image, les pans qu’elle dissimule ou qu’elle n’est pas en mesure de couvrir. »
Lose yourself in a book 