Pages from my little white journal. Fun.

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White objects in use...

Narrative. Everywhere.

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I finished my thesis. I've had a think. Practical begins.

I am going to use five objects intensely for two weeks. All white and generic. I have made a white journal to document my interactions and associations with the objects, collecting the personal narrative that will develop between them and myself.

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Excerpts taken from Sophie Calle Appointment with Sigmund Freud
(thanks marilyn!)


He was the most intelligent man I had ever known. One day he called to invite me to lunch, and proposed we meet the following week. Somehow the idea of the pleasure I would have from listening to him was countered by a malaise: The fear of not being up to it. So, to ready myself I asked him what we would talk about. It was an exercise that I knew was as silly as it was vain, but one that would comfort me. D chose a theme instantly: What makes you get up in the morning? I prepared myself all week, accumulating all kinds of answers. When the day came, I asked him for his opinion on the matter; and he said: "The smell of coffee." That was it. Then we changed the subject. Coffee was served. I stole the cup as a memory of our lunch together.



He was an unreliable man. For our first date he showed up one year late. Therefore, when he left, to make sure he would come back, I insisted that he leave something with me as a hostage. A week later, he sent me his most precious possession: a small French nineteenth-century painting, entitled The Love Letter, that portrays a young girl who bears an uncanny likeness to me. A year passed, and on January 18, 1992, after having rented two rings and a witness, I became his bride in a simple ceremony held at a 24-hour drive-up wedding window on Route 604 in Las Vegas. Later he gave me The Love Letter as a wedding gift. I had acquired a husband but in the process had lost my guarantee that he would always come back to me.



My great aunt was named Valentine. She was born on the 4th of February 1888. At the age of 96 she grew tired of living. But she had set herself a goal: to live to a hundred. Just before her hundredth birthday, while unconscious and near death in her bed, she momentarily revived and murmured: "How many days left?" There were six days left. "I'll last," she whispered, "I'll last." She died the 4th of February 1988. For her epitaph she had chosen a verse from the Bible: "She hath done what she could." Not long before her death, she had embroidered a sheet with my initials. I gave it to my friend, Herve, who was seriously ill, in memory of that night long ago when he had refused to share my bed. It was my way of inviting him to sleep a little with me. And then, I also liked thinking that, having been embroidered by a woman who lived to be a hundred by sheer tenacity of will, this sheet, imbued with her faith, would give him her strength.



My grandmother lived for many years tete-a-tete with her television. One day she fell ill, and was taken to the hospital, where she remained several months until she died on December 23, 1986. When I went to her house to find a memento of her, I chose the TV guide that was still on a table by the television: her last issue of Tele Star. For my grandmother, life stopped during Number 29, in the week of August 16 to 22, 1986.

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I love letters. The real thing. tangible, personal, emotional. Words are wonderful, but sometimes not enough to convey the feelings or thoughts of another person. When witten by hand and held within an envelope they become so much more precious.



In a world that every day is increasingly lived through technology, the letter is so important in maintaining real physical and emotional connection with others.

Richard Seymour spoke at AGIDEAS last week and talked briefly about a device currently under development. Made of a plastic substance and worn around the wrist, when caressed it sends an sms-signal to it's partner device, wherever it is in the world. The second device will glow. I think it's a lovely romantic notion... but the idea that a little piece of plastic communicates love, irks me a little.

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Excerpt from the film Everything Is Illuminated. The old lady speaks Ukrainian and is being translated into English by Alex for Jonathan.


SCENE LEAVING OLD LADIES HOUSE – TRACHIMBROD

 
Old Lady:                         I didn’t understand why my sister hid her wedding ring in
                                         a jar...

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quiddity [kwid-i-tee]
–noun, plural -ties.

1. the quality that makes a thing what it is; the essential nature of a thing.

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"One possible exception is the French philosopher and anthropologist Bruno Latour, who in recent years has insistently urged us to regard objects not merely as 'matters of fact,' in his formulation, but as 'matters of concern'. Instead of making things less interesting, by debunking the notion that things have meaning that can be discovered, he argues, enlightened critics ought to make things more interesting-by regarding every object as an association, a network, a gathering (ding, in German). Latour calls for 'a multifarious inquiry launched with the tools of anthropology, philosophy, metaphysics, history, sociology to detect how many participants are gathered in a thing to make it exist and to maintain its existence'."


Excerpt from Taking Things Seriously - 75 Objects with Unexpected Significance
Joshua Glenn & Carol Hayes

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"Among his own observations, Rybczynski cites essayist and critic Mario Praz’s ideas concerning 'Stimmung' or 'the sense of intimacy that is created by a room and its furnishings.' 'Stimmung', he says is 'a characteristic of interiors that has less to do with functionality than with the way that room conveys the character of its owner.' I believe photographs of our possessions and domestic patterns can be portraits, just like photographs of our faces."


Excerpt from The Day-to-Day Life of Albert Hastings
Kaylynn Deveney & Albert Hastings

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"My Town In My Home" - Collaboration between mafuyu and yoshikazu yamagata.

I translated the concept using babelfish... and it was a little confusing... From what I could decipher it sounds like they were working around the ideas that fashion inspires play, it is functional but also decorative. The knitted wearable houses stemmed from the idea that the wearer could become decoration completely, a toy for children to play with, and become more at one with their clothing.

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