Meeting a person’s eyes:Levinas in ordinary life

Intriguing

Cathy's avatarSilver Thoughts

Jean-Baptist_Camille_Corot_Breton_Woman_With_Her_Little_Girl

corot woman

Corot

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Face-to-face

The face to face encounter and its ethical meaning/implications is at the heart of Levinas‘ thought.Just today I was thinking over some personal events relating to this.

A few months ago I went into a cafe and found myself just behind an ex-colleague whom  I regard [note the word] as friend.I could see her husband sitting at the back of the cafe.She did mutter,Hello,but  instead of  meeting me eye to eye and  saying,”my husband wants to be alone”,she went through an elaborate pantomime of mime indicating rejection or keep a distance…which was unpleasant.I would been much happier with a straightforward look and a few words.

Today I had a similar event.I met a woman who used to be my physiotherapist ,again in a queue.She looked at me full on and greeted me  with pleasure.As she picked up  her tray she asked me to join her and her…

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Levinas

BionSexual healingvivian-gornick_0hannaarendtsudomenica16ye8TillichMargaretDrabbleBW75wittgensteinMunch-studio-Getty95002154I have got another book by Levinas.I am planning to spend a few days reading and meditating…so i should have much to write about next week.I am very affected by the notion of the meaning of how encounter another and how ethics is the primary essence of philosphy

My computer is on the verge of total meltdown

Cats fiveMy hard disk is failing I fear

So the engineer will come here

He’s taking the machine away

So I’ll have a non writing day.

I  am losing the machine tomorrow for 7/10 days…. not very good for my Xmas shopping.But hey who wants a present?Let them eat cake,snake or drake!

I only have this one computer which is  possibly a grave error but there we go.we must go with the flow.

My cursor is leaping about…. let’s hope they fix that,

The prospect of losing all my pics and poems is not worrying me as I can write more.So we’ll meet again,don’t know where,don’t know when….

Could Wittgenstein well?

Funny

Cathy's avatarSilver Thoughts

Do you think philosophy’s monotonous?

Prefer  an elephant to a  hippopotamus?

Do not feel sad

When joy can be had

From seeing which writes are dichotomous.

Is your spelling far wurse than myne?

Are your thoughts far from sublyme?

Could Jacques Derrida spell?

Could Wittgenstein well?

Answering these questions will take up our tyme

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What not to read tomorrow:The universe does not give a flying fuck

Image

You can look inside on Amazon but don’t waste your money.I

Write text here…

Meeting

dangerous-wooden-bridge-if-broken-foot-31740048

Stepping onto that fragile bridge

Which swayed in the breeze,
Stepping onto that fragile bridge
Was a difficult moment
Though I could see you far away.
As we traveled,sometimes we walked,
Sometimes we walked too fast,
Or without paying due attention
To the winds that blew across the water.
Sometimes I felt afraid I would fall
As the bridge swayed too much over
The dark sea.Or you might fall or turn back.
Sometimes we stopped walking and stood waiting
As if some portent would appear
To tell us what to do.
Still, we continued, with trust growing
After each difficulty…
All at once, you were near me,
And I recognised your face..
That light in your eyes
And your hands holding the ropes..
So we stood there,over the churning waters,
And all I wanted to do was to smile.
I wanted to smile.

Meeting a person’s eyes:Levinas in ordinary life

Jean-Baptist_Camille_Corot_Breton_Woman_With_Her_Little_Girl

corot woman

Corot

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Face-to-face

The face to face encounter and its ethical meaning/implications is at the heart of Levinas‘ thought.Just today I was thinking over some personal events relating to this.

A few months ago I went into a cafe and found myself just behind an ex-colleague whom  I regard [note the word] as friend.I could see her husband sitting at the back of the cafe.She did mutter,Hello,but  instead of  meeting me eye to eye and  saying,”my husband wants to be alone”,she went through an elaborate pantomime of mime indicating rejection or keep a distance…which was unpleasant.I would been much happier with a straightforward look and a few words.

Today I had a similar event.I met a woman who used to be my physiotherapist ,again in a queue.She looked at me full on and greeted me  with pleasure.As she picked up  her tray she asked me to join her and her husband plus a grandchild.We had a pleasant time,But if she had said,we are with our family,or whatever,that woulded have been fine too.because she looked at me

I am not saying the first woman ought to have done that.But what interests me is the lack of a willingness to “meet” me with her gaze.I  am entirely happy if people wish to be alone whilst the have coffee but I prefer them to say so.

Some individuals with autism are almost unable to make eye contact…. and this is because others are not real to  them,If we are near someone who will not meet our eyes,it can convey the same feeling.On the other hand,every one has off days and so I feel no anger,just a discomfort as this woman is very articulate and highly educated.I think her husband is quite controlling.

So this made me think about Levinas and about Martin Buber‘s I and Thou

There is also an expression,”he looked right through me”which is also a negative way of facing someone.And also,Cutting someone dead.

Essentially not looking at someone is a form of killing them as you imply they are not part  of society.Like not responding  to someone verbally or in writing.You are saying,You do not exist.

So I see with widening view

Gently dancing in the sun
Wildflowers grow;
they bloom,
are gone.

With no thoughts,they have no cares;
Yet their lives are gentle prayers.
May I walk in such a way
That I am alive to this day.

So I see with widening view,
And joy and sorrows embrace too.
Then my time will come like yours...
And of us nothing shall endure.As to the earth our bodies go,
All are one;it shall be so

 

Louise Glück : The Poetry Foundation

Louise Glück : The Poetry Foundation.

One of the most respected poets of our time…and with a totally different less extreme view of life than Sylvia Plath.

See here

.http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Louise_Gl%C3%BCck

The ‘Always’ and ‘Never’ Life of Sylvia Plath – Karen Swallow Prior – The Atlantic

The ‘Always’ and ‘Never’ Life of Sylvia Plath – Karen Swallow Prior – The Atlantic.

Another  piece about the poet  and novelist  Sylvia Plath… who seemed to have found post modernism in her writing before it was known and labelled

The disaster with Mary’s pinking shears: Stan errs again

« Catching some words..first draft Wildfowers »

abstract war on terrorStan was in the new black and cream kitchen cooking the Sunday dinner.As usual in the North it was roast beef and Yorkshire puddings.Stan was very good with Yorkshire puddings.They ate them with gravy before the main course just to maintain tradition.Even Emile,their talking cat, loved a pudding soaked in thick meaty gravy..
Suddenly the kitchen door burst open and in rushed their neighbor Annie… covered in blue paint.
What’s happened to you,Stan enquired cautiously.Surely you are not house painting on Sunday?
No,I never paint myself,she responded.I was in the old shed and a stray cat was up on the top shelf.It leaped off knocking over this tin of paint.I’m wondering how to get ot out of my hair?
What type of paint is it?
It’s emulsion paint.
Well,I’m afraid you can’t get it out!
I can’t go around town with blue hair,she cried loudly,even a touch hysterically.
Well,all I can think is that I could cut off a little of your hair.
OK, if that’s the only way to get rid of that damned paint.Can I stay and eat with you,babe?
Of course,sweetheart.Now here are some pinking shears.
Have you no ordinary scissors? she cried fractiously.Oh,bleedin’ ‘ell!!
No,we lost them.But pinking shears will give a layered effect.
Stan began cutting the lefthand side of Annie’s hair.Then he went around to the right….his left or her right?
She looked in the mirror,The left is a bit longer,she murmured vampishly.She falt like cussing and swearing but she didn’t know enough bad words so far in her life.
OK I’ll cut off a bit more.Stan whispered into her neck.
Oh,my God.The shears slipped,it’s gone really short,he shouted.
All Stan could do was cut the remainder of Annie’s lovely hair so it was only 2 cm long all over.
Suddenly Mary came in,
I didn’t know you were a hair dresser, she said sardonically to her errant husband.
Well,Annie got paint in her hair so I’ve trimmed it off.
Trimmed it..it looks like she won’t need a cut for about two years.
Annie began to sob noisily ,terrifying Emile who was hiding behind the flour bin watching some ants.
Well,Stan answered, it will be easier to wash and dry and she’ll have no need for rollers etc.Why,I could do it for a living.
I think it looks charming.
Why pinking shears?Mary whispered.You could have used my dressmaking ones.
Well,too late now mioawed Emile sarcastically from the bookcase filled with the entire Penguin cookery book collection over thirty years.What a pity it took up so much space in the tiny kitchen.
I think her hair looks sweet,said Stan bravely.
Meantime,you have burned the puddings again.Just like King Alfred and the cakes.Men are only good at savory and meat dishes.
It takes a woman to cook puddings and cakes.But Yorkshire puddings are savories.
I wonder how Wittgenstein would have classified them ? cried Mary enthusiastically.
Not Wittgenstein again,moaned Stan in mental torment,can’t you move onto some other philosopher?
Whom do you suggest? she said grammatically.
Try Carnap or take up gardening.
Oh,Carnap’s more of a logician,Mary said defiantly,
You see I love Wittgenstein as a human being.
Are you committing adultery with him ?Stan demanded thoughtfully his eyes bright like lasers.
That’s a wild exaggeration,He’s dead,Mary muttered.And he was,er,gay!
How do you know? That’s what they all say,shouted Stan angrily.
But what about you and Annie? Mary said venomously.
Well,I get lonely with you lecturing all day and studying Wittgenstein and mathematics all night
Surely you could wait till I come home? Mary said sharply
I suppose so,though a harem has always been my dream!
I think you are a bit past it now at 99,said Mary.
That’s not what I think, said Emile quietly.Cats and men…how do they do it?
Meanwhile Annie had washed her hair an it dried in tiny uneven curls all over her head.
It looks quite fetching,they decided as they sat down to eat the charred Yorkshire puddings.
What an exciting Sunday especially for Stan who enjoyed touching and playing with women’s hair.
I wonder if it’s a mental illness?I’ll have to look on the internet.Still, better than panic attacks, he thought
consolingly as he carried the roast beef onto the dining room where the women were discussing religious topics including a curiosity about why Christians were so anti Semitic despite Jesus’ wish for people to love each other.and besides being God,He was also a Jewish person too.
That’s interesting,Stan thought,here people think he’s English!What a weird world it is,to be sure.God was not a white Eton educated man.He may have been brown with a long black beard and a moustache.Did he smoke?
Only when he thought nobody was looking!Then he had flames coming out of his ears,Well,it made him laugh,you see.It’s Sunday soon so get ready.The Lord is nigh and he has a new hat on too

 

Words rise up like geese at dawn

York Minster,home of sacred song and word
York Minster,home of sacred song and word

WORDS RISE UP

After writing about maps I began to write about words.Words are very powerful in any kind of society but more so in a highly literate one.Words can be sacred or mundane.They can be loving or heartbreaking.And in English we have so many of them because English was developed from several other languages….Anglo-Saxon,French,Latin,Greek,Celtic…..so more than one word for some things.Here in this poem I compare words to birds [ geese ] flocking into the sky like words flock into our minds

GEESE

Words rise up like geese at dawn

When with pale sun new day is born

The words approach and dance in line

The choice of words is mine

Words spelled here by sense and sound

In clause and sentence weave around.

Which tempting words shall I now use

And which shall I refuse?

The fire lights up inside my heart

So now my writing hand can start/

I sit down at my desk and say

“This is the way I spend my day.

With words I sing and play”.

Could Wittgenstein well?

Do you think philosophy’s monotonous?

Prefer  an elephant to a  hippopotamus?

Do not feel sad

When joy can be had

From seeing which writes are dichotomous.

A plunesh bull in a kitch
A plunesh bull in a kitch

Is your spelling far wurse than myne?

Are your thoughts far from sublyme?

Could Jacques Derrida spell?

Could Wittgenstein well?

Answering these questions will take up our tyme

To love me and the whole human race

I once read the lines on your face

In between each was a space

I knew what it meant:

that you were sent

to love me and  to fill me with grace

Misreading beween the lines

??????????There is  no doubt we  all do this reading between the lines…sometimes consciously,sometimes unwittingly.We attempt to fill in gaps in our knowledge.There are a few problems.One is in cultural differences which may affect us here on the web.We come from very different societies and the meanings of certain words and attitudes does vary considerably;

And another factor is our own desires which we are  not always aware of.We may then interpret someone’s words in a way which fits with our desire or interpret someone using bad language to signify that they do not respect us.If the Soaps are an indication it seems in much of Britain every other word has just four letters. which to me shows poverty of feelings and language… but it means many people are not offended by them…But many still are.

So wishful thinking,ignorance,wanting to believe something,,,,,..cultural ignorance.. all these may make communication difficult.Perhaps we should not read too much between the lines at the beginning of a friendship…and be wary of imputing desires to another when they seem to offer what we are hoping for.

It’s a bit like the way here nearly everyone puts “love” or “xxxxx” at the end of a letter or email… so that in reality it means  almost nothing at all;Words become meaningless through overuse and we  will have to judge in other ways what a person feels for us..

Some people are more prone to seeing patterns or meanings in things which can be creative but it can also lead to paranoia in the insecure or lonely individual who has become the center of a huge important plot.When I was ill as a child I remember seeing faces leering at me from the wallpaper and the oil heater hissed menacingly,,, it was the fever but I was afraid…We need friends to tell us if our interpretations seem sensible and to comfort us when we are low.. and we need to be wary of assuming too much especially when we come from different cultures

Oh,won’t you give me a kiss?


Autumn 2013 047 2

I once had a boyfriend from Diss
Who was too shy to give me a kiss.
He gazed with round eyes,
Whenever I told lies
Which rather depleted my bliss.

I rarely tell lies to my lovers
As round me like birds they all hover.
I never succumb
Which makes them feel glum,…
But love is not worth all the bother.

I prefer conversation to sex
And I prefer money to cheques.
We all have our view
On what we should do.
I even prefer talking to texts

Currently reading when pussy lets me

ImageMy Unwritten  Books  by  George Steiner…I am enjoying this much more than when read his work ten years ago

The Golden Baby          by  Margaret Drabble…….Good but  too similar to all her later works.

How it all began   by Penelope Lively…Wonderful like all her books

There’s many a true word spoken to test.

Cats five

There’s many a true word spoken to test.
Was it ever true that mother knew best?
And is it wrong to begin a sentence with words such as “but”?
Or will you merely look like an ass with no foot
There’s many a slip between top and hip.
Is there time now for my daily quip?
But should you wish to start your sentence with “and”,
Make sure you study lines of the land
There’s many a lie that’s told in terror.
And many good actions are done in error.
Moreover,if you think that logic is essential for men
Never end a sentence with words such as “when.”
Rules are useless when gambling with crooks.
Never use words that are rude such as “fux.”
Thus if you are still with me at this rage of the game..
Fill out this form and set it aflame

A pool of light

photo1049_001

Their eyes drew me,
And their eyes draw me again
Into a pool of winter light
Golden from the low sun.
I swim in it
Like a hawk flows on the wind
Over the depths,
Of life.
Contained by a white china cup,
I’m your reflection now
Drowning in the slanting sunlight
Like a stone in a lake.
Falling deeper until I find
the creative mud
with which I mingle
no longer a stone
but a soft flowing stream of sensations
which meets with joy
the earth’s depths and presence.
And something new will grow

Where have all the cliches gone?

 Image

At the end of the day,
it all boils down to
what happens in that moment in time
in that split second.
I offer you my words of wisdom,
Don’t delay… you don’t want to be
A moment too soon or too late.
We must listen to our hearts
To find out our gut feelings,
Trust your instincts
And remember,it’s never too early or late,
Or exactly the right moment,
To start saving for a pension.
At the end of the day,
I hope you made your bed
The way you wanted to lie in it..
Though usually,love needs truth
And lying is an art
unlike survival and love;
Though love is not all you need
but love helps us roll along
gathering a little moss.
Ask not for whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee,,
and me too.
But when we sum it all up

We can say,with hand on heart..
we were just following orders
Then the grieving will start.

Touch me again

Hand in colorize

Art by Katherine

When he went away

He went away

Away.

I didn’t know where

where

he had gone

where had he gone?

The call came.:

call came….

Man,white,good health

Has died.

Has died alone

Died alone in an hotel room.

So a stranger would find him.

Man alone;

man alone in hotel room.

there was a man

alone

in his hotel room.

Not wanting to be any trouble.

trouble,no trouble alone

in his hotel room

not his room,you see.

not a shared room…

An hotel room.

Tall man with light brown hair

alone in a small hotel room

with no TV.

We had no smartphones

Smart

Phones

No,don’t tell , not me ,not yet.

Not me.

He was all alone.

He was behind glass

glass walls

windows

a window of glass.

I could never touch him.

I could not touch him.

not touch,no,never,

Man alone.

Solitary man.

Tall man with brown hair.

Beds for love

Beds for leaving.

Don’t you die alone

in that hotel room.

Don’t die

Don’t go

You wanted to be alone,

I thought…

you were

afraid to feel.

Thin skinned and pale like a torn petal from a wild plant.

You were alone again

And you left me all alone;

alone without you.

Now I’m alone

in my hotel room.

my room.

Someone knocks.

I’m dreaming of you

wishing you were near me.

dreaming,wishing,

lonely for you.

He was all alone,they said.

In an hotel room.

His doom

In a lonely bedroom.

Don’t leave me yet.

Yet you were never here

behind your window

I see you

but can’t touch you.

Can’t touch you.

Can’t touch.

Touch me.

Touch me again.

Love me…

You were all alone

alone.

Why did I not break the glass?

Break the glass;

The glass.

Touch me again

Touch me again

Object relations link

bathers-or-two-nude-women-gustave-courbet

Add Mediahttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Object_relations_theory

In case you don’t know about this…. it’s mentioned in my last post.It’s  is a psychoanalytical school based om the work of Dr W D Winnicott

I owe it to myself to keep my life secret

 

Tigger

A few weeks after Annie moved into the house next door to Stan,he met her when he was  seeing his wife off to work.
Why does your wife not have a car? she enquired suspiciously.
She is trying to keep slim,Stan told her.
Well,she’s not been very successful,Annie said scientifically.
She might be much fatter than she is now if she drove a car,he stated ponderously
That’s true,muttered Annie meditatively
I am your new next door neighbor.she continued
Yes my dear, said Stan,I have seen you sunbathing in the garden in your bikinis.
How come? she asked scientifically.
There’s a big hole in the fence.
Is it legal to look at women through a hole in the fence?
asked Annie.
I know it’s illegal to look into their bedroom windows.
Is it really,asked Stan nervously,I had no idea.
How about women looking at men through a round hole?
Oh,they are not bothered to do that,she told him charmingly.
Well,said Stan,clearing his throat,I think I owe it to myself to tell you that I love you.
Wow,you’re quick off the mark,the lady said saucily.
What do you mean,you owe it to yourself?
Nothing,said Stan,I could not think how to word it.I mean I wish to unselfishly love you and admire your ripe body and your cute sense of color.I love your teal trouser suit.And you sing sos well in the bath.
You didn’t mean you owe it to yourself to take advantage of me?
Not unless you want me to take advantage of you,the gallant old man informed her.
And you can take advantage of me.I make cakes and biscuits,wholemeal bread and I am training my cat Emile to do statistics on an i pad.
How extraordinary,Annie whispered.I didn’t know cats had an “I.” let alone pads.
Well,they have pads on their paws,he informed her intelligently.
True,she said,but where are their I’s?
Where are our I’s ?he responded in a manner to rejoice the heart of Mary Midgley or Susanne Langer two of Stan’s favourite writers on philosophy,logic,symbols and ethics.
Not that he practiced the Ethics but he liked to know what he was doing wrong.It’s more fun that way.If you sin,sin big!
A man who seduces women merrily one after the other may have no idea it might be wrong.Neither might the women.Why is it wrong?Surely it’s better than killing people or leaving the lid off the jam all night so the wasps get into the jar?
Still,not many men get the chances that Stan got.No-one suspected this kindly,handsome practicing Catholic was a womanizer despite his blue beard,green eyes,white skin and red hair.And his slim yet strong figure clad in navy trousers and white shirts all the year round.Maybe his wife did but she preferred to read Aristotle in bed and dream about mercury… those little silver balls,so cute!
Well,as we know,Stan is about to make Annie his mistress but in such a cold wet summer,where can he take her to do the deed?
The shed?The public library? Cafe Nero?
I owe it to you not to tell you yet.That will give you time to think of a solution for this sweet old man and his naughty but nice neighbor.
Like,how about the confessional in the local Church?
Whatever next?I owe it to myself to keep it secret as you may come along and spoil the fun.
Stan went indoors and washed up in the boiling hot water he kept by him constantly as he owed it to himself to be ready to make a hot drink at any moment he fancied and by gum,he did fancy like no man has ever fancied before.So his daemon tells me.

Next time:Why did God create Stan and why does it matter?

 

Seriously wonderful poem

?????????????Seriously wonderful poem

This poem’s a bit cerebral but well  worth reading…philosophy,art,war

Will I ever be a poet? No,never!

Image

Did you ever have a lover
with long red hair?
For long red hair
seems quite unfair.

Did you ever have a lover
and then another lover?
For there's added gain
if you feel no pain.

Did you ever have a lover
who loved your eyes
and never ever lied,
and let you cry?
Whatever was the trouble.

You'll never have a lover.
if you have no time for others
for love needs care,
say,what is here.

Here and there are many lovely people
who live with their lives with scruples;
if you're scruple free,
then let it be.

Oh,let it be is fine,
Except for the divine.
I want to be involved
For I can't please all the folk,
Who touch me with their talk.
My heart has melted down...
and now I've grown a world
completely on my own.

Were you ever quite alone
Like a toad under a stone?
Did you ever hear a groan
as you wrote your poem?

For you'll never write a poem
that makes me laugh..
Because my feet are in the shower
but my body's in the bath.
My head is on the shelf...
and I've lost all of my teeth...
Yet you will love me
Evermore.
What allure!
so clear..

Evermore and evermore
You'll be standing on the shore
Watching the horizon,
wondering what she lies on.

Oh,you'll never be a poet,
Unless you learn your notes..
They take you to the limit.....
Love.whatever is it?Evermore,evermore...
The words seem like a roar...
I love your heart's deep core.
Ever more and ever more.

7 signs you might be a narcissist

o-NARCISSIST-facebook

 

7 signs you might be a narcissist.

This website RAPPLER is a very interesting….news,stories,ideas.. see my next post.

There seems to be a feeling we are all getting more narcisssistic…more self centred, feeling more entitled .But strictly speaking it’s a psychological developmental problem which occurs when a little child fails to receive the care they need to feel happy with themselves.So they feel a certain shame which is agony and stops them growing into understanding that other people are real and not just objects to be used.They develop ways of trying to prove themselves superior…to feel grand and wonderful and to obtain acclaim.

But they cannot be truly happy when they cannot have a good,deep relationship with anyone

Really they are very sad people who can do damage…George W Bush is one case….many times they are  very charming and powerful.

I believe charming people should  be treated with caution.What are they after?They can pick out vulnerable folk and latch onto them

Be content with the ordinary and avoid these people if you can…Unless you are one… maybe many of us have a touch of it?