Object| Timepiece|How does the “new” come into being?

BOVET unveils a symbolic timepiece rich in symbols for”only Watch 2011″


I was few Blogs away behind, writing and editing old posts, when the chime of the prompt post: Object, dinged. And, I had no time, neither to  catch up with the past prompts,  nor to think about it. During the break, I had  a tiny moment to  read a quote of the day from Mr. Alec Lee-Nevela, wich  actually it  fell  à propos: how does new come into being?


Fashion of Time

At that moment I had no answer for the question. It might be uplifting as it seamed at first but it wouldn’t be nifty as .  Yet, I had to wait until I went  back  home. Usually_ I conceive a passion for classical music, more particularly for Puccini, and for watercolor panting; an old hobby, a guilty pleasure that I affectionate for longtime. For that, I mean the panting, I have gathered over  time, a multitude of objects, that I used for textures, lights, and specific stokes, all weird-looking tools as well, as one might think, at first glance.

So, I read the prompt and looked around for a singular trove; from a cristal-glass bucket that used to be for cooling a bottle of champagne, that  found in garage-sale, which I use it ,instead,  as bowl full of water to paint and wash in my watercolor brushes ;  to an expensive  Siberian Blue squirrel hair-quill that I got in Christmas – my wish, as a gift from my daughter. Then, I was lost in contemplation, in front of a cut-n’ past  panel of Quotes of the day, that I pined au fil- temps, while listing to ” Caruso”_Puccini, a vinyl.  Then, the train of thoughts  made it  way, hill and dale,  through a landscape  of weirdness and familiar things.  I found myself thinking;  an object, but which is,  it don’t mean a thing, so I shuddered  to some,  to   turn  my eyes to stop on a zen drawing, to look to  a  timepiece, a  family heirloom lunging aside , in  a last forlorn attempt. Hours I read  a book about Zen in the Japanese culture, by Daisetz Suzuki,  it said about the place of objects in meditation, like a hanging scroll into an alcove, with a theme carefully chosen by the host, with a bamboo plant pined aside. There is a story also, about a broken caldron, yielded and bought a second time by  a master of tea ceremony, after he sold to an aficionado merchant, this is to say.

I had the laptop on my lap and a bunch of ideas jostling in my head, and I was “itching for words”, in the same way , the Poet Stevenson was;  I want  to express them in words, suddenly  I googled the word timepiece and got  the image above; it resumed a lump  of symbols,  and debris that we call meanings, in a word: Object

prompt-remind-me|Yesterday-The Beatles

Daily Prompt: Always Something There to Remind Me

by Krista on March 2, 2014

“A song comes on the radio and instantly, you’re transported to a different time and place.” 

It was  in the Seventies, at the bus stop,  at the arrivals of the Orly Airport, in Paris,  I was about to board while she stepped out of the bus and walk  away with her daughter, she was talking to her, then suddenly  I recognized her at the voice with her sweetest  accent, the one that you never forget; an English woman trying to speak French.  She was no more  the young sophomore classmate that she used to share the bench with me, in  Hi-school,  few years ago. I look at her from a distance, through the panes, few moments before that the wall separations hidden her  from sight as the escalators went up. In that time of school, we were  studying English classes, her father used to work abroad, and each time he brought her with him, the vinyl discs of the Beatles ,with some others, for the lyrics,  because of the assignments, like Cat Stevens, Leonard Cohan, Bob Dylan, as it was the Beat generation at that epoch, and we were fans also, before  that the disco-cassets made it flood the market.

Like to say, at that moment, the odds were, that the speakers  in the departure lounge were playing  “yesterday”, the song of the Beatles, and today also, some 40 years later:

_Depart is such sweet sorrow

_”An American in Paris”,  Film in theatres with Gene Kelly, Oct. 1951


_”Aimez-vous Brahms?” Author, Francoise Sagan, Good by Again, Film By Anatole Litvak, /#q=aimez-vous+brahms

_”Paris, C’est Triste Sans Becaud”, _”Orly.”  Song, By Jack Brel: