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In the seventeenth episode of the fourth season of the sitcom Sex and The City, acclaimed actress Candice Bergen made her first appearance as the character Enid Frick, the Vogue editor of Carrie Bradshaw (Sarah Jessica Parker).

Enid is not easy to get along with and criticizes Carrie frequently, but when the editor insinuates that Carrie does not know anything about shoes, the protagonist responds with a very witty phrase, half snobbish, half wise: “Men I may not know, but shoes… shoes I know!”

I remembered the scene this week when I went to a beauty salon. It was my turn there, but I had been following the social media of the place for some time and thought it served what I needed: trimming the ends of my hair.

Some context: I cannot remember a time when I actually enjoyed going to beauty salons. It probably has to do with the fact that, in general, I do not leave the place looking amazing, as with many women do. Why? I have no idea, but maybe it is because trendy cutting and finishing styles (straightening, drying with a diffuser, etc.) do not usually give good results on my hair. In the end, I always return to my good, old homemade way of doing things, and that is how I really like it.

In practice, this means that I have extensive and lengthy experience with my hair and have a good idea of what damages or improves its appearance. I am not a professional in the field, and I probably would not know how to give good advice about anyone’s hair. But when it comes to my locks, I am like Carrie Bradshaw to Enid: I know my hair.

So, when a hairdresser, after talking about himself for 20 minutes and not even touching my hair, starts listing a list of things I can or cannot do, I tend to perceive it as a bad start.There is no point in trying to cover up the fact that there is no hot water in the taps, with the false advice that warm water (not hot, just not cold) will be extremely harmful to me, because I will notice.

There is no point in swearing to me that your way of styling is unique, and in the end just clogging my head with styling cream, especially if it is a low-quality one. I might be going through a low-budget phase (who hasn’t?), but my nose still knows how to differentiate between a good cosmetic and an imitation. You see, the hairdresser was not bad, only too, let us say, pretentious.

After I got home, washed it, and styled my hai my way, I gotta admit I actually liked the cut. The only issue is having to play the whole “influencer game,” you know, having to accept something just because the person has tons of followers on social media. That is what happened with this professional. I mean, the social media of the place was on point, most posts had lots of likes and amazing reviews, and they never hinted that reality was any less glamorous (trust me, washing your head with super cold water is anything but glamorous).

When it comes to taste, contrary to what people say, there is a lot to discuss, debate and inform. Perhaps people would change their opinion about many products and services if they had the chance to use them, intead of only getting the opinion from the so-called influencers. A good way to value services and products is to learn about their costs of production in terms of work, skills involved, preparation time and execution.

The coolest experiences have always been the ones we live on our own, but I’ve noticed that we’re letting the algorithms of the platforms take over too much of this power, hardly ever stepping out of our bubbles where everything similar to our thoughts is right and everything different is wrong.

What bothers me most about algorithm culture is that it does not matter who you are or what you do: the important thing is to constantly brag about yourself, your achievements and your overwhelming qualities. How can we blame the hairdresser who would not stop talking about himself, if doctors, musicians, lawyers, students, travelers, in short, everyone is there, on the internet doing the same?

Following the manual exhaustively repeated in the thousand and one tutorials on how to sell anything and everything we turned all the “experiences” in our lives in sales pitches. We create empathy, we cite examples that prove our social validation, we primisse to solve the pain of our customer, we follow the journey of the hero… we read the whole script.

Maybe part of our collective anxiety comes from the feeling that we need to “close a sale” at all times, whatever that “sale” may be, from a cosmetic treatment, a service, a new relationship, a new single. This constant pressure to achieve a successful outcome in every situation can create a sense of unease and perpetual striving.

It is as if we are constantly on the lookout for potential opportunities to “seal the deal” in various aspects of our lives, whether it is through personal improvement, professional advancement, or social interactions. This mindset can lead to constant stress and the belief that we must always be in a state of negotiation with ourselves and others.

One potential solution to reduce the impact of algorithm culture on personal decision-making and self-worth is to prioritize self-awareness and mindfulness. By consciously reflecting on our values, goals, and genuine desires, we can make decisions based on internal authenticity rather than external pressures.

Cultivating a diverse range of offline experiences and real-world connections that are not governed by algorithmic recommendations also helps, for it allows fae-to-face interactions, unburdened by the constant pursuit of digital validatio.

By prioritizing genuine experiences over external validations, we reclaim our autonomy and self-worth, recognizing that true value lies in meaningful connections and personal fulfillment rather than in the metrics of algorithmic approval.

Advertising is good, but what really keeps customers is good merchandise, good stuff. And good suff, darling, good stuff I know.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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I recently went to a small chapel that is literally across the street from my building. It is a welcoming place, with white walls and a very sober atmosphere, with a wooden roof. The austerity is broken only by the colored light of the stained glass windows. On this day, in particular, there was a celebration of the patron saint and after having lived on the street for more than a decade I thought it was time to check it out.

When I arrived, the place was practically full, but there were still some seats on extra benches placed along the side walls. I adjusted myself as best I could and, despite the need to keep my back straight in a seat without backrest, everything was going well, until a woman stood between me and the extra bench in front, blocking my view of the altar. Without seeming embarrassed, she turned to me and asked: “Do I get in the way?”

I thought it would be a sin to tell a lie in a church and I answered sincerely (taking care to embellish my words with a smile): “It does get in the way, because you are blocking my vision.”

She pretended to move to the side, which meant being right in the middle of the path and, as it would obviously be impossible to remain there, she returned to her starting point, that is, blocking my view. As, at that point, the mass had already started, I resignedly accepted her lack of politeness and thought I might turn my neck a little.

However, I was not prepared for the addiction of my vision to her cell phone. very thirty seconds, like clockwork, she would sneak a peek at the screen. Then, as if that was not enough, she would whip out her glasses from her bag just to read her messages better.

There is no way to dodge that distraction with a mere neck twist, so, once again, I had to muster up the courage to say, “Could you please stash your phone away? I am trying to focus on the Mass” And guess what? She gave me a death glare (yes, in the middle of mass!) and put down her phone, for the most part anyway.

Although much of the sublime experience of the divine was profoundly ruined by this setback, it also gave me a chance to think about the terrible contemporary inability to remain still, and even more so, silent.

In the realm of aesthetics and philosophy, silence often serves as a gateway to the experience of the sublime. Within this context, silence is not merely the absence of noise, but rather a profound and intentional act of creating space for contemplation and introspection. It allows individuals to connect with their inner selves, enabling a heightened awareness of beauty, truth, and the ineffable aspects of existence.

In embracing silence, we not only gain access to a profound form of expression that transcends verbal communication but also open ourselves to the vast realm of introspection and self-discovery. Silence carries the power to convey emotions, thoughts, and intentions in a way that words often fall short of. It allows us to communicate on a deeper, more authentic level, fostering a connection that goes beyond the limitations of speech.

Through the stillness of silence, we can truly listen to our innermost thoughts and feelings, and in turn, understand ourselves and others more fully. This practice can lead to a heightened sense of empathy and a greater understanding of the complexities of human emotions. Embracing silence can be a transformative experience, enriching our lives and relationships in ways that verbal communication alone cannot achieve.

This paves the way for a deeper understanding of the perception experience, creating a sense of awe and transcendence.

In many ways, silence can be seen as a canvas upon which the sublime is painted, as it provides the necessary space for the mind to grapple with the profound and overwhelming nature of the sublime. At the same time, the sublime can also be thought of as a kind of metaphorical silence, representing a moment of profound stillness and overwhelming grandeur that transcends the limitations of language and human expression.

And the lady in front of me lost all of this. What a waste!

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Mulholland Dr.ive is a 2001 film written and directed by David Lynch. In this intriguing work, a scene that has become iconic is that of the protagonists Betty and Rita at “Club Silencio” (love the name!): it starts with the master of ceremonies explains that everything is an illusion (there is no band, and yet we hear a band). The women soon cry to the sound of the Spanish version of “Crying” by Rebekah del Rio. The artist faints, but the singing continues, revealing that the audio is a playback recording.

I could not help thinking of this scene so full of meanings, while watching on tv to the recent performance of popstar Madonna in Rio de Janeiro, in a mega show for over 1,5 million people on the Copacabana beach.

The magnitude of the show was undeniable. From the dedicated members of her team to the remarkable audience numbers for the live broadcast, every aspect of the event was larger than life. Even the undertaking of cleaning up the Copacabana beach after the concert was colossal, highlighting the immense scale of the production.

All the figures surrounding the presentation are gigantic, except one, which, by the way, is zero: the number of musicians on stage.

Such nonsense, in addition to the fact that the vocals themselves are based on pre-recorded bases, made me think about how a performance like this cannot be considered, strictly speaking, a concert. After all, what is the place of music in pop?

When considering the performance, technology, and the perception of musical artistry within the realm of pop music, it is important to acknowledge the dynamic interplay between these elements. The evolution of technology has not only revolutionized the way music is produced and consumed, but it has also significantly impacted the performance aspect of pop music.

Advances in audio recording, digital effects, and electronic instruments have provided artists with unprecedented creative tools, allowing them to push the boundaries of their artistry. From the use of Auto-Tune to enhance vocal performances, to the incorporation of electronic instruments and samples in live shows, technology has become an integral part of pop music, raising questions about the authenticity and artistry of these performances.

It is disheartening to witness major international pop stars, Madonna being just one example among many, dismissing musicians during their world tours. This behavior raises questions about fair treatment and respect within the music industry. When artists who have reached the pinnacle of success neglect their supporting musicians, it is, well, disappointing, to say the least.

Maybe it is about time we start giving classical music some more love. I have always been impressed by how this genre manages to evolve while still holding onto its core essence. I mean, imagine shelling out to watch an opera, only to find out that the lead soprano is lip-syncing to pre-recorded tracks? That would be a real scandal, right? So why do we naturalize it in current pop?

I’m aware that it’s difficult to make such criticisms without sounding extremely old-fashioned, but I’m willing to take the risk. After all, I also find some things very old-fashioned, for example, hypersexualized performances. I know that the saying “sex sells” dictates the rules, but I also know that at this point in time, such performances seem more boring than revolutionary. It is all so repetitive!

Do you know what would be revolutionary now? a performance less polluted by stage elements and complicated choreography, based on the artists’ talent and ability to perform live on stage. In short, entertainment that actually entertains, instead of just distracting.

Returning to talent-focused entertainment can have a profound impact on the industry, emphasizing skill and artistry over other superficial qualities. Embracing talent-focused entertainment can lead to a resurgence of genuine artistry, captivating audiences with the sheer brilliance and passion of performers.

In a world saturated with manufactured personas, placing talent at the forefront can breathe new life into the industry, offering audiences an authentic and awe-inspiring entertainment experience.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Last week, I had the opportunity to attend a significant meeting focused on the execution of a project of mine fora a musical performance, which has been approved through a public selection process. As is often the case, meetings of this nature are not typically filled with excitement. Despite the usual lack of excitement, there was a palpable sense of purpose and determination in the room, as everyone was committed to driving their projects forward and achieving tangible results.

The key to nailing any project is top-notch project management and crystal-clear communication. Making sure everyone is on the same page and totally clued in on the goals of the project is absolutely crucial. And when it comes to dealing with public funds, I cannot stress enough how important it is to be extra careful, double-checking every responsibility and sticking to the rules like glue. After all, it is our money, right?

This whole extra attention can really make us feel like we gotta be on our best behavior, you know? It is all about making sure we handle things the right way and own up to our actions, especially when we are working on projects funded by the public. I am totally onboard with that, but it would be so nice to have some help with all the other stuff! It is tough to stay focused on the music when you’ve got to juggle being your own manager, assistant, and accountant, too.

Sometimes, it is hard not to feel the levels of motivation vary, but in such moments (during boring meetings, for example) I reflect on the journey leading up to this point. I remind myself of the challenges involved in the selection process of public-funded projects, the extensive work required to create and articulate the project proposal, and the substantial weight of responsibility that comes with it.

Ok, I understand that all this theorizing is not always enough to eliminate the boredom of a meeting about the administrative and legal details of executing an artistic project. Fear not, for I haveanother, infallible exercise. I create what I call a “quiet moment’, that is, a moment of reflection in some silent place in my mind, where there is only room for one question: why am I here?

The journey of overcoming challenges is deeply rooted in my passion to create meaningful content that resonates with my audience. Each obstacle surmounted becomes a milestone, shaping me into a more capable and empathetic creator. Moving forward, my focus remains steadfast on crafting compelling and engaging content that not only entertains but also fosters genuine connections.

Every step is a testament to the dedication and perseverance it takes to navigate through the intricate web of artistic production. It takes rime to learn about project development and management, but I feel that it gets a bit easier everytime, which means I am learning the ropes.

Each obstacle overcome represents a triumph, a step forward in the pursuit of creating something impactful and meaningful to the audience, a true wish for becoming a better performer. Every challenge I overcome shows how determined and resilient I am to make a real impact. It is all about making progress and moving forward in my mission to create content that truly connects with my audience.

Quiet moments (even if they happen in a crowdy room) of inner contemplation and self-reflection the source where I find the strength to carry on. As I sit in these meetings, surrounded by paperwork and discussions, I am reminded of the bigger picture, the greater purpose behind the meticulous planning and effort, and it ignites a renewed sense of determination to see it through to fruition.

Boring meetings do not seem so bad when I think about all the challenges faced and overcome in order to get here. Actually, these tedious moments are actually the type of problems I always want to deal with.

Be seeing you!

G.F.