red

Red is a colour that remains unknown and that must remain so.

In an age that thrives on showiness, show business, there is a great charm involved in the inward curve, so to speak (so as not to speak), of privacy and withdrawal. The sort of blank spaces and silence and invisibility that are opened up at an alarming rate by the 'communications technology revolution', the false revolution of late capitalism's version of communism. 

Here she is, the little devil, trying to strangle me. The other little one looks out at the world bemused, like a wizened old man who has seen so much; he's still partly in another world (perhaps all of us keep a bit of that dreamworld with us into adulthood?)

A private journal or diary. Jonas Mekas...the film diary becomes the diary film. Privacy: a way of not appearing in the world, but also of making or sustaining one's own little world. 

Small acts, between the acts. Walser was on to something there.

Must go back to Molly Hughes...a child of the 1870s for its domesticity, lack of 'events' and a wholly unexceptional life. And yet, and yet, when you know the facts you realize how much art is involved...what Nussbaum calls ' internal transcendence'. 

Not the rage against the system of an outsider but, rather, the quiet strength of living on the margins, of making do with the daily rituals and the deep familiarity of seasonal changes. This ebb and flow of life ~is~life itself.