Chaotic Good

I am constantly trying to find ways to make my flat more comfortable. Since the apartment is on the roof, some walls are inclined and it makes it hard to change things around. Most of the time I just move things to put them back in place again because it doesn’t work.

Like this morning.

I was planning to place a tall shelf in my bedroom with my owls and some craft material, but it turns out that the one taller and wider shelf is still not big enough to fit in the contents of two shelves. Basically, I WILL change a few things around, but the furniture will stay just at it is, both in my room and in the living room.

Meanwhile, of course, I had to move all my books onto the nearest table in order to try this out.

I do like to see them like this. Even in a chaotic manner, books have this wonderful peculiarity which makes me feel like they belong everywhere: in a very neat shelf or spread about in a table, with no order.




Romantic Whims

As a child, I used to spend many Saturday afternoons in the attic of my mum’s friend, as my mum helped her preparing things for the weddings she was in charge of. On one of those long, cosy afternoons, a typewriter was put in my hands and a long-last love affair began.

Obviously, there is no logical reason to buy a typewriter these days, except for the romantic idea we so often associate with vintage things, the sweet utopia that we can travel through time and lead a different life, in Paris or London, surrounded by ingenius minds, where typewriters make sense. As if the clack-clack of the keys, by itself, could create a piece of written art.

Well, I do believe we must disregard logic sometimes and do things on a whim. For the sake of romantism and childhood memories.

Here is my Olympia Regina de Luxe, which I bought second-hand, and I plan to fill with first-hand dreams.

It’s not practical, it’s not compact, and it’s loud. I love it.



The Changeable Truth

Sounds like the title of a play. Well, truth usually remais the same, our perception and knowledge are the changeable subjects.

For a long time it was believed that van Gogh had cut half of his earlob off. A recent discover in Irving Stone’s archives (the writer of Lust For Life) shows that Vincent actually cut off the whole of his ear.

“The ‘ear incident’ with which Van Gogh’s illness manifested itself in December 1888, while he was living in the southern French town of Arles, is reconstructed in the exhibition through eyewitness testimony and letters. An exceptional loan is the recently discovered letter from Félix Rey, the doctor who treated Van Gogh in the hospital. It was found by Bernadette Murphy in the archive of the writer Irving Stone (The Bancroft Library, University of California, Berkeley), while researching her book Van Gogh’s Ear: the True Story.

Rey’s letter includes drawings showing that Van Gogh cut off the whole of his left ear and not, as was long believed, just part of it. The discovery brings an end to a long-standing biographical question. The letter is exhibited alongside Van Gogh’s portrait of Dr Rey, which the artist gave the physician as a token of gratitude for his care. This beautiful painting from the Pushkin Museum in Moscow is being shown at the Van Gogh Museum for the first time.”

The well-known wrong fact became the right fact.



Me At 23h00

me at 23h00: I am going to bed now, have a proper rest.

also me at 23h00: I really want to rewatch my favourite movie, though.

Well, take a guess.