You could say I'm rediscovering America. Maybe.
But after understanding how a song can simply be a "timing" of lyrics thanks to Leonard Cohen, I'm discovering how design is sometimes just a "spacing" of words.
As evidence, these three lists I had in my notes that I was hesitant to share in raw text form. To convey the humor and urgency, images were needed.
Three steps is for losers.
It might sound like a New Year's resolution, but it's not at all. It's the culmination of a rebellion I've been brewing for a while.
Last year, quietly and without fanfare, I (almost) abandoned Facebook, LinkedIn, Twitter, and the like. My concerns with social networks were manifold:
In parallel, I created this blog.
My idea was simple: I would post here everything I posted elsewhere. On a site I manage, whose appearance I choose, which is not subject to the control of a third party or an algorithm. And that doesn't enrich anyone (except my hosting platform – and not much).
Of course, in doing so, I lost some advantages:
No more likes. No more shares. And, really, no more visitors.
This last point should have been a dealbreaker – after all, we publish to be read – but strangely, I continued. For a year, I posted content on a blog that almost no one came to see.
Then something unexpected happened.
As the months passed, my content transformed. My articles became longer, closer to my true concerns. I started doing photography again, writing dialogues, publishing drawings, creating more.
I also began to improve the site – appearance, navigation, features – so that it quickly became a "home." Where I feel good. That inspires me like an artist can be inspired in their studio.
But most importantly, despite the lack of visitors, each publication brought me more satisfaction. Strangely, I took more pleasure in creating for no one than for the elusive and shapeless public of social networks.
A year later, I've drawn three lessons from this experience.
First, personally, I realized that the shelf where I place my pottery is more important than I imagined. I need boxes to store what I do – even the little things – otherwise the creative process stalls upstream.
Secondly, you must first create for yourself.
Rather than a clumsy explanation, I recently came across two videos of artists I admire who tell it much better – and with more authority – than me:
"Never play for the gallery. Never work for other people."
– David Bowie, in this video.
"The audience comes last. And I believe that. I don't do it for them; I do it for myself."
– Legendary producer Rick Rubin, in this short.
(Not forgetting this video I've already mentioned: Create or Be Consumed.)
Finally, of course, you still have to share. Otherwise, it's just masturbation.
That's why, for the past few weeks, I've been getting back to posting on social networks. With one significant difference from before: now, creation and distribution are dissociated.
Everything first goes on my shelf. Which imposes no rules, puts no pressure, plays no games. It's an engine that asks a single question: "Do I really like it?"
Then, only then, do I showcase it.
If you look closely, I'm in the Christmas bauble. We all are in it.
During this holiday season, a song that celebrates love. (Not the possessive and sentimental love of American romantic comedies, but the pure and immediate love of Eastern wisdom.)
As a teenager, I had missed out on Pearl Jam, and I didn't know much about Eddie Vedder except that my musician friends idolized him. Then, I discovered the soundtrack of Into the Wild, especially No Ceiling and Society. Later, I realized that it was him again, who was behind the fantastic soundtrack of Dead Man Walking.
So recently, I've been revisiting this song:
A blend of country and traditional tunes that I would have loved to see live. The burst of voices at the end should be enough to trigger a spiritual awakening when experienced head-on.
And in the same vein, this one too.
Mingyur Rinpoche encapsulates in a beautiful quote what I've been pondering for some time, namely that the reason for acting is often more important than the action itself:
Let's say you feel moved to plant one thousand trees. If your heart is completely pure, and love for the ecosystem is your sole motivation, it's a wonderful plan.
However, it's not good if — despite your good intentions — there's a little voice in the back of your mind whispering, "This is gonna make me look really good," or, "I can't find a decent job, so maybe I should use this venture to launch an organization and make a profit." If you don't address your inner environment, even your altruistic actions can become self-interested. They can take a back seat to your personal issues. They can cause problems within your mind, or among your friends and community. The situation can get very convoluted.
Conversely, if you transform your mind in the service of helping the external world, your actions will have tremendous power. Without your mind, you can't do anything. It's the control tower, the force guiding and controlling your actions, navigating you from points A to B. If you harbor any doubts on that point, recall that in this very moment, if your mind didn't think, "Okay, time to go on to the next thing," you'd be staring at this sentence for the rest of your life. In order to be of assistance to other sentient beings, your head and heart need to be in the right place. It all starts from the inner environment.– Mingyur Rinpoche
I'm not sure there's ever a right reason to act, though – if we wait to be certain, we never do anything. But there are undoubtedly wrong reasons: anxiety, fear, anger, the need to prove oneself. It's these that one should wash away before taking a step.
Not that I succeed, mind you. But I'm pondering it.
I also did some color (Ektar) but meh. I'm in my black and white phase with a heavy grain. Click on the photos to see them in full size.
For English speakers, three articles I've read over several years about death described by healthcare professionals. I've already discussed the first two, but upon reading the third, I thought it was worth compiling a little anthology.
The first to kick off in 2011: "How Doctors Die" or how doctors at the end of life tend to avoid the therapeutic frenzy they too often witness in their patients.
The second, recently discovered in the fantastic essays of Scott Alexander, dates back to 2013: "Who By Very Slow Decay" or how medical staff abandons illusions in palliative care centers.
Finally, the last one, recently published in the New York Times – if you only read one, I recommend this one: "A Hospice Nurse on Embracing the Grace of Dying". A nurse in a palliative care hospice describes her work and the final moments of her patients in a book titled "The In-Between: Unforgettable Encounters During Life’s Final Moments.” The stories and analogies she shares in the article are deeply moving.
The goal is not to depress. On the contrary: truth sets you free. A keen awareness of our finiteness is the first antidote against a life steeped in illusions.
I've been the proud owner of a Leica M6 for about fifteen years (remember?) that I had somewhat set aside recently. It's back in action.
My main obstacle was the need to change film based on lighting conditions. Then I read this article about Ilford Delta 3200 film. Not only is it cheaper than TMax, but if you embrace the grain – I don't just accept it, I celebrate it – it allows for day and night photography: load a film in the morning and shoot until night.
So, for the past month, my camera is always with me. It hangs across my shoulder under my coat (for when it rains), and unintentionally, I've found myself following the rules of lomography.
I no longer develop in my bathroom as before – no more time – I buy and develop films at Négatif +.
I already have a few rolls in reserve, and I don't tire of the rendering, the grain, the atmosphere. So, expect more photos in the months to come.
UPDATE: And since we're talking about analog, I recently re-released my film Rebours (Countdown). 20 polaroids taken in 24 hours in Paris and shown in reverse.
During the "Nuit des Ponts" organized for the 25th anniversary of the Fondation des Ponts, 7 projects were pitched for an exceptional fundraising event at the Grand Amphitheatre of the Sorbonne.
I was the last one to take the stage to ask for funds for the post-production of "Building," the feature-length documentary that I produce and direct with ChezFilms for École des Ponts.
Happy to announce that, thanks to the generosity of donors, we secured over €50k for the post-production of our film. Also, a big thank you to the sound team that came to support me:
Premiere coming soon. I'll keep you posted.