Lost in the time zones

Last Sunday was fun.
For starters, it was a terribly sunny day, which is always a good start.
I went to visit a Museum in Paris, which I had never visited before. Mostly paintings; as I was trying to feel those feelings that the painters supposedly tried to express with colors and shapes, my visit partner pointed out how different two paintings could look, even though they came from the same movement. Two impressionist paintings, side by side, made really different impressions, although both were made with short vertical strokes, light tones, and represented similar sceneries.
Later that day, I came home. In France it was the middle of the afternoon, and a very warm, sunny one, as I said. I got home and called a friend in China. China is 6 hours ahead of Paris, in time zones, so it was sometime around midnight there. Since I had left my shutters half closed when I left earlier, and as I talked to my Chinese friend,I got to feel like it was the middle of the night. Plus we were having one of those conversations that you are likely to have in the middle of the night ;)
Two hours later, I "emerged" from that different universe (我很高兴，我们可以说巴!), my head filled with questions and missing my friend a lot, because we are so far apart on the planet.
So it was the still-very-sunny end of a sunny afternoon in Paris. it was like... a different day; because I had been through 2 hours of night. Tried to get back on track with Paris time.
Then I talked to a Brazilian friend on msn; he is coming over to stay in Paris in a few days, so we had a few topics to cover :) Brazil is 4 hours behind Paris time (I think...Vini, o q vc acha?). Although the conversation we had was not "typical" of an early-afternoon-conversation, I still felt it was early there. Earlier, at least.
Then I did some more stuff, and time to go to... what!? it was already 2a.m. ! Bed time long passed.
But I don't regret any second of that Sunday. It's amazing to see how
much traveling you can fit in one day, thanks to public transportation
AND phone AND internet :) Definitely a fun day: got some culture, warm
feelings, and friendship. What else to ask for?

I feel like a painting: different people see me differently; there are infinite ways to represent me. But who am I? Where is the element that makes me exist; how do I know that I'm not just the sum of all the paintings of me? am I really something more than the sum of my thoughts and actions?

testing ScribeFire

it seems ScribeFire, one more of those awesome Firefox extensions, is working on my computer now; I can just launhc a new tab in my browser, punch in a few words and a title, and there goes my latest blog entry :)
it also seems promising for integrating quaotations from webpages I'm browsing at the same time, or adding pictures, etc.
Good complement to the Clipmarks extension!

edit 02:17 am : it works!!it works!!

the rabbit's shell

I came home under the rain. It was pouring down heavily, like it had been since the beginning of the month. The French call that phenomenon "giboulées": one minute it's cloudy and dry, the next minute it's raining cats and dogs and windy like crazy.
So I was walking home under giboulées. I had left my umbrella on purpose, and instead dressed in a winter/ski-jacket, all water-proof and with a hood. Walking under the rain, with a shelter around me. The wind gradually soaks my jeans, which are not waterproof. I feel the cold, humid stickyness of fabric over skin on both my legs, and I start imagining a similar sensation in my feet.
I say "imagine", because there is no way my feet are already drenched; it's been raining only for a couple of minutes.
All that hugely immense mass of water, falling down from hundreds of meter in the sky just to hit my hood or my jacket and be bounced back to the concrete pavement
what a waste! except maybe for plants, that get their share of the previous liquid.
I feel strong. It's ironic that I should feel strong when confronting the force of nature, expecially considering the sides of the cloud rain, compared to my size. yet I do. maybe precisely because I live under the impression that I can fight it. water comes down and down and down from the skies, I just keep walking. tonight my injury is deep inside of me, environment cannot affect it.

Note pour plus tard / Note for the future

Dimanche 24 février 2008,
une date à retenir, en forme de dreaminder inversé.
J'ai peut-être trouvé... "ce que je veux faire plus tard".

Sunday, February 24th 2008.
A day to remember, a sort of reversed dreaminder.
It might be the day when I... "found out what I want to do with my life".

who's gonna offer a penny for my thoughts ? ;)

where's China?

A friend just sent me an article with a few tips to help yourself decide if you should go to China or not. I liked one of the ideas: the longer you stay in China, the harder it is to talk about it.

Now, why is that true? not sure there is a rational explanation, but it's how I feel too. I think the word we use is "cristalization": in your mind, you keep an impression, a model of things stuck as they were in a certain situation, and you make that your general concept of the topic. so for example, your way of living in China becomes the way you think China is; and you dont easily put yourself in question about that. but it's so totally different from what your friends live abroad, from what you were living before, that you can't explain it.
The longer you stay, the more normal it seems to you; therefore, the less you pay attention to how you behave on a daily basis, and the harder it gets to present, explain in detai, analyse your experience.
any comment on this? please post, I'll be reading and responding :)

on a slightly related topic, and I'm not targetting only ex-expats with this question: have you ever felt like you missed a place where you'd live, so much, so much, you thought you could never be so happy ever again?

I miss China badly those days, mostly because of the people whom I know there, and because of the freedom I was able to keep in my life the whole time. There really are opportunities everywhere in China, if one is willing to take one's courage, patience, and learn about the culture, accept things without understanding, compromise. China did build my patience.
Now I'm waiting for my next chance to go there ;) wait for me guys, we'll share a giant pizza at Kro's nest!!

Le billet d'humeur - février 08

Parfois me prend l’envie d’écrire. Souvent, je m’arrête après quelques lignes, voire quelques mots. Jamais je ne les partage, ni ne les publie/poste/bloge/blogge/blogue. Pour quoi faire ?

Et pourquoi pas ?

Ce mercredi 13 février, le service public audiovisuel est en grève. Je dis que c’est une bonne chose !! Plus souvent, l’excellente station Le Mouv’ (92.1FM) devrait nous abreuver d’excellente musique doucement pop, comme aujourd’hui ; plus souvent, elle devrait nous éviter son insupportable déballage de pré-adolescentes sur la radio libre 17h-23h. Je ronchonne mais c’est normal; je dépasse les 24 ans ½, c’est la l’acariâtreté (??) qui m’atteint, la sénilité guette.

Si les Neuilléennes et Neuilléens sont politiquement irritables et publiquement insupportables, il ne faut pas oublier que ce sont aussi des gens comme les autres, le matin entre 8h et 9h ! Arrivé au bureau au lever du jour, lundi dernier, je me dis qu’il était décidement trop tôt pour se mettre à l’ouvrage, et descendait prendre un « pti noir » au café du coin. Finalement ce fût chocolat chaud et croissant, pour le plaisir du souvenir, la mousse du chocolat saupoudrée d’un lever de soleil rouge flamboyant sur l’avenue Charles de Gaulle. C’est assez sympa pour bosser, ce coin, finalement. Les Neuilléennes et Neuilléens, donc, bavardent au comptoir autour de leurs cafés, parlant de madame-du-chien-des-voisins-du-bureau-des-enfants… c’est ennuyeux ce que je raconte, on s’en fiche de savoir qu’ils parlent de ça ? je veux bien parler d’autre chose, mais eux, c’est de ça qu’ils parlaient. En sortant, 6 euros pour un pti déj ? c’est plus cher si on s’assoit ! Sachons vivre, mais je ne m’y laisserai pas prendre la prochaine fois.

Nous perdons le sauveur, le Salvador, Henri le grand. Un inconditionnel de la pétanque ET du Brésil ne peut pas être fondamentalement mauvais. Retenons son énergie vitale assez incroyable, et sa capacité à descendre une bonne bouteille de rouge, à lui tout seul, au cours d’un concert. C’était Henri Salvador, au Palais des Congrès à l’automne 2005. Une rupture d’anévrisme, c’est lié au pti rouge ? qu’en pensent les médecin(e)s ?

« Tu as des problèmes de riche, mon pauvre ! », m’expliquait-on quand je me désolais de mon indécision de futur estivant : JO à Pékin ou famille à Sao Paulo, rien ne sert de courir, il faut choisir. Le feuilleton se conclura avant la saison 4 de Lost, les scénaristes de mes vacances n’ayant pas fait grève.

Je me tiens pour cette première mouture au sage adage « quand il n’y a plus de papier, c’est qu’on a noté toutes les idées ». Fin de la page 01.

Replay

Replay
Vidéo envoyée par gargouillon

Dans un monde appauvri par l'homme, la seule lueur d'espoir est le souvenir d'un passé oublié.
Mais attention à ne pas se laisser dépasser par ses rêves...

Court métrage de fin d'étude que j'ai réalisé avec 3 autres camardes à l'ESMA de Montpellier.