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posted by Sven at 4:58 AM
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The End of The Opinion
"'Why, Basin, you know quite well who my aunt means,'
cried the Duchess indignantly. 'He's the brother of that great
gramnivonous creature you had the weird idea of sending to me the other
day. She stayed a solid hour; I thought I'd go mad. But I began by
thinking it was she who was mad when I saw a person I didn't know come
browsing into the room looking exactly like a cow.'"Proust,
'The Guermantes Way'
"An artist must regulate his life.
Here is a time-table of my daily acts. I rise at 7.18; am inspired from
10.23 to 11.47. I lunch at 12.11 and leave the table at 12.14. A healthy
ride on horse-back round my domain follows from 1.19 pm to 2.53 pm.
Another bout of inspiration from 3.12 to 4.7 pm. From 5 to 6.47 pm
various occupations (fencing, reflection, immobility, visits,
contemplation, dexterity, natation, etc.)
Dinner is served at 7.16 and finished at 7.20 pm. From 8.9 to 9.59 pm
symphonic readings (out loud). I go to bed regularly at 10.37 pm. Once a
week (on Tuesdays) I awake with a start at 3.14 am.
My only nourishment consists of food that is white: eggs, sugar,
shredded bones, the fat of dead animals, veal, salt, coco-nuts, chicken
cooked in white water, mouldy fruit, rice, turnips, sausages in camphor,
pastry, cheese (white varieties), cotton salad, and certain kinds of
fish (without their skin). I boil my wine and drink it cold mixed with
the juice of the Fuschia. I have a good appetite but never talk when
eating for fear of strangling myself.
I breathe carefully (a little at a time) and dance very rarely. When
walking I hold my ribs and look steadily behind me.
My expression is very serious; when I laugh it is unintentional, and I
always apologise very politely.
I sleep with only one eye closed, very profoundly. My bed is round with
a hole in it for my head to go through. Every hour a servant takes my
temperature and gives me another."
Erik Satie, 'A Day in the Life of an Artist'
"'It is the greatest mistake', he said, 'to think that man
is always one and the same. A man is never the same for long. He is
continually changing. He seldom remains the same even for half an hour.
We think that if a man is called Ivan he is always Ivan. Nothing of the
kind. Now he is Ivan, in another minute he is Peter, and a minute later
he is Nicholas, Sergius, Matthew, Simon. And all of you think he is
Ivan…You will be astonished when you realise what a multitude of these
Ivans and Nicholases live in one man. If you learn to observe them there
is no need to go to a cinema.'"
Ouspensky, 'In Search of the Miraculous'
I'm a Christian in the middle of a world that I don't always like, though I have a lot of hope for it. Thoroughly urban and nocturnal, increasingly ecologically minded.
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