Friday 25 April 2008
Tuesday 22 April 2008
le scaphandre et le papillon
Everyday I go to the library and read a chapter of Jean-Dominique Bauby's book. The book he wrote by blinking his eye, letter by letter.
As a way of experiencing his efforts, I gave myself the task to have to work a little to get to read a little. I have to make my way to the library on bike every time to read a chapter. This way I experience reading the book as a thing I have to take my time for.
During my visits I have received the English version “The diving bell and the butterfly” which I won on eBay. Now I read a chapter every time, corresponding with the chapter I will have read prior in the Dutch version of the library (Vlinders in een duikerpak).
I am proud that I have found an inconsistency in the translations, and when I’m done reading both books, I will look up which is a more correct translation in the French version. The inconsistency I have found is that in the English version it reads: “Once I was a master at recycling leftovers”, while the Dutch version reads (translated) that “There is a thing like the art of making something of leftovers.”
My opinion for now is that the Dutch translator was being less keen on exact translation, but took a liberty in that. I think the first example can be found in the title translation. Literally translated it means butterflies in a diving suit.
Normally I wouldn’t go so far for a book, but because of the specific way it has been written, I believe it’s very normal to spend more time on it.
I have been going to the library several times now.
I don’t have a subscription.
I wonder sometimes if they would ask me if I am a member, but I feel that I can do this as much as I want without them probing me.
I’m also the only person in the building who knows that the real reason of my visit is a little out of the ordinary. It's like being a secret agent with a mission no-one must know about. The only difference is that my visit to the library is to sustain my relationship with a special person that basically only exists in the form of paper and ink.
My deepest sympathy, for this man.
Thursday 17 April 2008
Wednesday 16 April 2008
Feng Shui
One day I was re-organizing my room, a thing I like to do thoroughly when I do it.
It had started with my father making a comment about my bed. It was stuffed in the corner against the heating and under the sloping ceiling. He said the sloping ceiling would bring bad luck, as I wouldn't be able to breathe or get up. The heating so close to me while asleep would also dehydrate me.
As a good son I wisely considered his comment and thought about it.
I usually disagree with my father on a lot of things, but if it was true it wouldn't be a waste of time.
Another reason why it wouldn't hurt also to try to please him, is because I am his first son. This is considered very important in his part of our family, because it seems they are always asking about me. To make matters more complicated, my father is also the first-born son of hís father. And his father happens to be the first-born of thát father. As for the generation befóre his grandfather, I can’t tell, because I think we just forgot.
So, knowing this, that there’s more at stake than just my own name, it’s good to consider to be the good boy. But this time I wasn't trying to please my father, I was seeing his point. There would always be a chance that I would bump my head against the ceiling (even though it never happened before) or get really dehydrated being near the heating. The other comment he made about not being able to breathe well and bad luck had a superstitious flavour, but it was interesting, because you're never sure about these things. (My father also says I shouldn't wear black clothes, because they attract death. Therefore I try to never wear clothes that are completely black, but at the very most very darkish blue. Only my coat can be black, don’t ask my why, because I never asked or just can’t remember the reason.)
As my father’s comment sunk in I started thinking about another place for a bed. It would be replaced with my "old bed", which was in fact newer than the one I was sleeping in. It had only been used in another house from my parents they never decided to move into.
With the replacing of my bed of course a lot of things had to move.
Eventually I repositioned 50 percent of my room in order for me to sleep on another bed. A genuine bed, which might be better for my health, feng-shui, qi-gong, luck and whatsoever.
For five days I've slept in this bed and then I had to leave. Go back to my room in Enschede. It's been 52 days since I've been home. I feel like I will never be able to go back, with all the buisiness I’ve got to take care of. Is it better or less FengShui when I dón’t sleep in the bed?
It had started with my father making a comment about my bed. It was stuffed in the corner against the heating and under the sloping ceiling. He said the sloping ceiling would bring bad luck, as I wouldn't be able to breathe or get up. The heating so close to me while asleep would also dehydrate me.
As a good son I wisely considered his comment and thought about it.
I usually disagree with my father on a lot of things, but if it was true it wouldn't be a waste of time.
Another reason why it wouldn't hurt also to try to please him, is because I am his first son. This is considered very important in his part of our family, because it seems they are always asking about me. To make matters more complicated, my father is also the first-born son of hís father. And his father happens to be the first-born of thát father. As for the generation befóre his grandfather, I can’t tell, because I think we just forgot.
So, knowing this, that there’s more at stake than just my own name, it’s good to consider to be the good boy. But this time I wasn't trying to please my father, I was seeing his point. There would always be a chance that I would bump my head against the ceiling (even though it never happened before) or get really dehydrated being near the heating. The other comment he made about not being able to breathe well and bad luck had a superstitious flavour, but it was interesting, because you're never sure about these things. (My father also says I shouldn't wear black clothes, because they attract death. Therefore I try to never wear clothes that are completely black, but at the very most very darkish blue. Only my coat can be black, don’t ask my why, because I never asked or just can’t remember the reason.)
As my father’s comment sunk in I started thinking about another place for a bed. It would be replaced with my "old bed", which was in fact newer than the one I was sleeping in. It had only been used in another house from my parents they never decided to move into.
With the replacing of my bed of course a lot of things had to move.
Eventually I repositioned 50 percent of my room in order for me to sleep on another bed. A genuine bed, which might be better for my health, feng-shui, qi-gong, luck and whatsoever.
For five days I've slept in this bed and then I had to leave. Go back to my room in Enschede. It's been 52 days since I've been home. I feel like I will never be able to go back, with all the buisiness I’ve got to take care of. Is it better or less FengShui when I dón’t sleep in the bed?
Sunday 6 April 2008
Qing Ming meets Deezer.com
Today, on the day when Chinese remember their dead,
me and 2 friends were listening songs with dead/die in the title, without notifying each other.
I just happened to notice this strange coming together of subject.
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