gos·sa·mer (gäs′ə mər)
noun
- a filmy cobweb floating in the air or spread on bushes or grass
- a very thin, soft, filmy cloth
- ☆ a lightweight waterproof coat
- anything like gossamer in lightness, flimsiness, etc.
Etymology: ME gosesomer, lit., goose summer: with allusion to the warm period in fall (St. Martin’s summer) when geese are in season and gossamer is chiefly noticed
light, thin, and filmy
this is the nicest word i’ve seen today. very tired. unconcentrated. body aching. why can the thesis not just go away?
thesis&i.
2 strategien fir mat der thèse emzegoen tëscht deenen ech am moment zimlich hin an hierpendelen:
1. léif kleng thèse, ech froen dech heimat ganz héiflich an matt ‘wann ech glift draga’ als hannergrondmusik fir deng frëndlichst mattaarbicht sou dass mer eis kontraktuell zesummenaarbicht geschwenn op en enn brengen an matt eise béider liewen weiderfuere kënnen. merci dass du hei nit domm gëss.
2. kleng domm houer, wanns du nit paréiers, da schécken ech déch do wu de peffer wiisst, an do kanns de dann frecken an vermuuschten. mech huet na nie een sou gelangweilt matt senge ville gescheite wierder di ech amfong nit wierklich verstin, an et huet na nie ee mech esou op de baam gedriwwe iwwer eng däermosse laang zäit wi’s du. verstan?
grommel.
GROMMEL.
will it ever end?
end of melodrama, back to work… GROMMEL.
image rippled from here.
walls/membranes.
Faith pours from your walls, drowning your calls
I’ve tried to hear, you’re not near
Remembering when I saw your face
Shining my way, pure timing
Now I’ve fallen in deep, slow silent sleep
It’s killing me, I’m dying
To put a little bit of sunshine in your life
Soleil all over you, warm sun pours over me
Soleil all over you
Warm sun
Now this slick fallen rift came like a gift
Your body moves ever nearer
And you will dry this tear
Now that we’re here, and grieve for me, not history
But now I’m dry of thoughts, wait for the rain
Then it’s replaced, sun setting
And suddenly you’re in love with everything
Soleil all over you, warm sun pours over me
Soleil all over you
Warm sun
(by badly drawn boy, listen to it here)
writing a thesis
[still writing, rewriting, rigging, shaking]
It isn’t easy to define a pebble.
If you’re satisfied with a simple description you can start out by saying that it’s a form or state of stone halfway between rocks and gravel.
But this already implies a concept of stone that must be validated. So don’t blame me for going even further back than the flood.Francis Ponge
little miss tut and the object of tz.
i thought this was one of the OED’s less skillful descriptions:
tut, n
also tutt, -e, 9 Sc. tuts.
. 9 Sc. toot, tout; toots. [A natural utterance; the spelling tut sometimes represents the palatal click (also spelt TCHICK, TCK). Cf. also hut tut, hoot toot, hout tout s.v. HOOT int.]
An ejaculation (often reduplicated) expressing impatience or dissatisfaction with a statement, notion, or proceeding, or contemptuously dismissing it. (The Sc. toot, toots, expresses mild expostulation.)
procrastinating pig.
apparently, i am a realist, innovative and active, without strong sense of family, not remembering dates, i am analytical, cautious and distrustful, i am a great listener and have a great sexlife.
the things science can tell you these days… ;o)
they didn’t ask me anything about the background! my pig wanted some mud to lie in and some sun to shine on it… hihi…
now that that’s established, back to work…
welcome to modernity.
dat as wi ech mer et firstellen wann ech texter liesen di vun dem absolutten ‘break’ tescht dem mettelalter an der modernzait schwetzen.
1600 am bulli.
d’sonn geet op iwwer engem klengen duerf iergendswou a metteleuropa.
den hunn kreit. kikerikiiiiiiiiii…
iergendwann enker as den jhempi erwaecht.
as dunn am laf vum moien bis an d’duerf getreppelt wou en de mett fanne wollt fir em eppes ze proposeieren.
wou en laanscht de kiirficht goung, as em de mond opstoe bliff, an en huet gegrommelt ‘nondidjoe’.
du hung ee grousse stofftene panneau gespaant tescht der kiirch an dem aeppelbaam op deem, op heckebelsch an latengesch stung: ‘wellkommen an der moderner zeit – si fenkt nexte mettwoch un’.
de probleem war just dass de jhemp nit vill fir d’liesen iwwrich hat…
wei geet d’geschicht weider?
note to self.
must write an english sonnet about the common agricultural policy one of these days.
that’s a challenge i would like to extend to all of you. send me poetry of the weirdest kind, and the most unexpected. no toilet humour please that would be boring.
it is pissing down with rain and i would like to curb my wine gum cravings otherwise than having to actually get some, so i write silly blogposts.
avishai cohen’s brilliance is making my head spin. ’structure in motion’ should you ever get your ears on it, will amaze you too. there are little guarantees in this world, but that is one of them.
watch this space! things can only get better.
taking care of thoughts.
last night our conversation turned on mind.
is it possible to keep taking care of our thoughts so they do not sediment into hardness with the consequence of stopping evolving and growing?
the other question concerned how we can stop living for other people’s approval, and how to keep apart their desires from our own, and what desires we choose to discard?
chasing cars in our heads it seems a lot of the time. that song woke me up this morning, along with cat being quite vocal and the rain outside having stopped and having left the place feeling very new. ended up in the blue lamp last night with cuban folk music with a scottish accent. aaaaah…
why is it that aberdeen has no places that serve tea and coffee after 8? i need to move.
under the rubric of ‘changing self to better’ my GP tells me it is time to act. alright then. i needed a push.
[image rippled from the web: paul klee, red balloon]
bees…
are, for example, very communicative creatures. The dance choreography they perform in the hive provides precise information as to where food sourcs can be found. The intricacy and complexity of the communication system… demonstrates a truly amzing capacity for bees to encode and communicate information in an abstract, symbolic way that would put to shame many a communications of GIS specialist let alone any architect (Von Frisch, 1965, took 40 years to map the dances). The code to the dance patterns was broken, almost by accident, by a mathematician who happened to be the daughter of a bee researcher. She recognised the patterns when projecting the properties of a six-dimensional flag manifold – a rare and obscure kind of mathematics – onto a two-dimensional space (Frank 1997). The entire repertory of bee dances with all of its innumerable parts and variations falls within a mathematical schema unknown to any architect. The only other known physical process to which such a mathematics applies concerns the quarks of quantum theory. This raises the speculative possibility that ‘the bees are somehow sensitive to what’s going on in the quantum world of quarks, that quantum mechanics is as important to their perception of the world as sight, sound and smell’.
[David Harvey 2000 Spaces of Hope, p. 201]
This is by far the most impressive thing I have read this week [well, considering it is Tuesday, and all...]. The following conclusions could be drawn, among others, of course:
1. superiority of humans my a***; 2. note that this woman Frank spent a lifetime deciphering the bees’ movements – that is dedication… chapeau! 3. the limits of my perception are the limits of my world; 4. what does that make of the question – what knowledge is appropriate for what analysis; 5. how to go from the idea to the realisation, from the potential to the actual, from the hope to the fulfillment without pain, without mild delusion, without growth and moments of weakness that jeopardise all…
work ain’t all in life, that much is sure, but somehow it manages to be at the centre of the themes covered in my thesis, along with (haalt iech fest…) temporality, possibility, closure, regulation, food, and placing.
menschlich, ach so menschlich. an ode to human fallibility and limits. or rather: a toast, for it is late!
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