"contestation over the construction, meaning and organisation of public space only takes effect therefore, when it succeeds in exercising a transformative influence over private and commercialised spaces''
http://socasis.ubbcluj.ro/urbana/upload/syllabus2010/04a.Harvey(2006).pdf
Wednesday, 7 December 2011
baudellaire's ''the eyes of the poor
"ah! you want to know why i hate you today. it will probably be less easy for you to understand than for me to explain it to you; you are, i think, the most perfect example of feminine impenetrability that can possibly be found.
"we had spent a long day together, and it had seemed to me short. we had promised one another that we would think the same thoughts and that our two souls should become one soul; a dream which is not original, after all, except that, dreamed by all men, it has been realised by none.
"in the evening you were a little tired, and you sat down outside a new cafe at the corner of a new boulevard, still littered with plaster and already displaying its unfinished splendours. the cafe glittered. (about 10 lines further detail the gaslights and the people around)...."a paradise for gluttons. "exactly opposite to us, in the roadway, stood a man of about forty years of age with a weary face and a greyish beard, holding a little boy by one hand and carrying on the other arm a little fellow too weak to walk. he was taking the nursemaid's place, and had brought his children out for a walk in the evening. all were in rags. the three faces were extrordinarily serious, and the 6 eyes stared fixedly at the new cafe with an equal admiration, differentiated in each according to age.
"the fatther's eyes said: "how beautiful it is! how beautiful it is! one would think that all the gold of the poor world had found its way to these walls" the boy's eyes said: how beautiful it is! how beautiful it is! but that is a house which only people who are not like us can enter". as for the little one's eyes, they were too fascinated to express anything but stupid and utter joy.
"song-writers say that pleasure ennobles the soul and softens the heart. the song was right that evening, so far as i was concerned. not only was i touched by this family of eyes, but i felt rather ashamed of our glasses and decanters so much too much for our thirst. i turned to look at you, dear love, that i might read my own thought in you; i gazed deep into your eyes, so beautiful and so strangely sweet, your green eyes that are the home of caprice and under the sovreignty of the Moon; and you said to me: "those people are insupportable to me with their staring saucer-eyes! couldn't you tell the head waiter to send them away?
"so hard it is to understand one another, dearest, and so incommunicable is thought, even between people who are in love!"
"we had spent a long day together, and it had seemed to me short. we had promised one another that we would think the same thoughts and that our two souls should become one soul; a dream which is not original, after all, except that, dreamed by all men, it has been realised by none.
"in the evening you were a little tired, and you sat down outside a new cafe at the corner of a new boulevard, still littered with plaster and already displaying its unfinished splendours. the cafe glittered. (about 10 lines further detail the gaslights and the people around)...."a paradise for gluttons. "exactly opposite to us, in the roadway, stood a man of about forty years of age with a weary face and a greyish beard, holding a little boy by one hand and carrying on the other arm a little fellow too weak to walk. he was taking the nursemaid's place, and had brought his children out for a walk in the evening. all were in rags. the three faces were extrordinarily serious, and the 6 eyes stared fixedly at the new cafe with an equal admiration, differentiated in each according to age.
"the fatther's eyes said: "how beautiful it is! how beautiful it is! one would think that all the gold of the poor world had found its way to these walls" the boy's eyes said: how beautiful it is! how beautiful it is! but that is a house which only people who are not like us can enter". as for the little one's eyes, they were too fascinated to express anything but stupid and utter joy.
"song-writers say that pleasure ennobles the soul and softens the heart. the song was right that evening, so far as i was concerned. not only was i touched by this family of eyes, but i felt rather ashamed of our glasses and decanters so much too much for our thirst. i turned to look at you, dear love, that i might read my own thought in you; i gazed deep into your eyes, so beautiful and so strangely sweet, your green eyes that are the home of caprice and under the sovreignty of the Moon; and you said to me: "those people are insupportable to me with their staring saucer-eyes! couldn't you tell the head waiter to send them away?
"so hard it is to understand one another, dearest, and so incommunicable is thought, even between people who are in love!"
Saturday, 19 February 2011
Thursday, 20 January 2011
Sunday, 9 January 2011
too zero one won!
2011: reading list
mario vargos llosa - 'the notebooks of don rigoberto'
i loved this book. my notes were as follows:
erotic cat fantasy, skin dipped in honey crawling with kittens licking with rough tongue files. the stepson obsessed with egon schiele: his models; their poses; his ladder; his mirror; his dislike of his thumbs.
an amazing form of storytelling! provoked by a dream, a theme, a character, a reference, don rigoberto's wife lucrecia would recount a story, of fantasies and sexual encounters.. erotic and filled with quotes from his notebook, historical and magical characters alongside whom he is transported, into his wife's tales, into his own fantasies..
in reading this i found that a night's entertainment can very well be a book. pages post tea time, before bedtime, interspersed with bath time. in the mornings i think about the dreams i had. at night i can read.
Films
have just seen danny boyle's 127 hours at the cinema.
i liked: the canyons
the style: jumpy. feels like a number over 2000.
the drama made me cry, for 3 seconds, without my knowing
altogether more bizarre than seeing a man cut off his own arm with a pen knife, was burlesque. it was amusing to imagine the cast were all smoking crack throughout filming. particularly the scene where cher, upon returning from a meeting with her bank manager, spends what feels like a lifetime trying to articulate the word for 'name plate'.
'he spent the whole time playing with that little thing.. you know that little thing.. the thing on the desk.. the long thing on the desk, wooden...' 'name plate?' 'yeah.. name plate'
(would like to see this remade with jackie stallone.)
mario vargos llosa - 'the notebooks of don rigoberto'
i loved this book. my notes were as follows:
erotic cat fantasy, skin dipped in honey crawling with kittens licking with rough tongue files. the stepson obsessed with egon schiele: his models; their poses; his ladder; his mirror; his dislike of his thumbs.
an amazing form of storytelling! provoked by a dream, a theme, a character, a reference, don rigoberto's wife lucrecia would recount a story, of fantasies and sexual encounters.. erotic and filled with quotes from his notebook, historical and magical characters alongside whom he is transported, into his wife's tales, into his own fantasies..
in reading this i found that a night's entertainment can very well be a book. pages post tea time, before bedtime, interspersed with bath time. in the mornings i think about the dreams i had. at night i can read.
Films
have just seen danny boyle's 127 hours at the cinema.
i liked: the canyons
the style: jumpy. feels like a number over 2000.
the drama made me cry, for 3 seconds, without my knowing
altogether more bizarre than seeing a man cut off his own arm with a pen knife, was burlesque. it was amusing to imagine the cast were all smoking crack throughout filming. particularly the scene where cher, upon returning from a meeting with her bank manager, spends what feels like a lifetime trying to articulate the word for 'name plate'.
'he spent the whole time playing with that little thing.. you know that little thing.. the thing on the desk.. the long thing on the desk, wooden...' 'name plate?' 'yeah.. name plate'
(would like to see this remade with jackie stallone.)
Wednesday, 22 December 2010
at home
this morning my phone rang and i woke up while i dreamt i was on the apprentice, working for lord sugar, developing a shaving razor. i was project manager and had just arrived at the scene of the shoot for the advert we were making. i watched on the test screen as the actor (who looked to be made out of playmobil) stroked his cheek, 'ooh smooth like heaven'. i say "i did not give the green light on the use of that phrase", i swish my coat and turn towards lord sugar. he says that the next point we are to consider is advertising - 'now, think about it carefully' he says. 'TOP GEAR.... we'll advertise on top gear' i say, and i know that i have cracked it. i've done it, i've got the golden ticket, i am Stella.
i answer my phone, it's 9am. i awake straight into an interview for a job as a recruitment consultant. i have actually already been interviewed by this man about eight months ago. that time i didn't get beyond, 'so tell me what makes you want to get into recruitment', i said that i didn't want to, that i didn't know anything about it, and that the idea of working in sales made me want to cry even though i didn't know what it was. i still feel vaguely the same. i would like to have gargled my answers RECRUITMENT CONSULTBLEEEEEH! but my dream had made me think that perhaps i was the apprentice. i brushed the crumbs of my bedclothes and thought, what would stella do.
deeply immature but keeps having deja vu, which makes me think - older than i am? i have just made christmas biscuits. last night i watched the elephant man. i can see over five different types of bird from my window. does the blue tit wish he had a hat. integrity? where is my integrity. where are my sequinned pants. where is my storyboard. where's my silky tights.
a bizarre creative malaise. x
i answer my phone, it's 9am. i awake straight into an interview for a job as a recruitment consultant. i have actually already been interviewed by this man about eight months ago. that time i didn't get beyond, 'so tell me what makes you want to get into recruitment', i said that i didn't want to, that i didn't know anything about it, and that the idea of working in sales made me want to cry even though i didn't know what it was. i still feel vaguely the same. i would like to have gargled my answers RECRUITMENT CONSULTBLEEEEEH! but my dream had made me think that perhaps i was the apprentice. i brushed the crumbs of my bedclothes and thought, what would stella do.
deeply immature but keeps having deja vu, which makes me think - older than i am? i have just made christmas biscuits. last night i watched the elephant man. i can see over five different types of bird from my window. does the blue tit wish he had a hat. integrity? where is my integrity. where are my sequinned pants. where is my storyboard. where's my silky tights.
a bizarre creative malaise. x
Wednesday, 29 September 2010
MUSIC
a musical renaissance.
new discoveries;
MR MEEBLE 'until i grasp the second'
YES!! :-)
4 year old twin led gospel... triumphantly oddball!
Spike Jonze directed.... the pharcyde - the drop
new discoveries;
MR MEEBLE 'until i grasp the second'
YES!! :-)
4 year old twin led gospel... triumphantly oddball!
Spike Jonze directed.... the pharcyde - the drop
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