by on

I just came from a three-week trip. It was my first post-pandemic trip abroad and it was with disappointment (but no surprise at all, which is pretty sad, too) that I confirmed my the entire process involving traveling long distances continues to head in the same direction as before 2020: getting worse and worse.

From incomprehensible rules such as having to leave your bottle of water at customs and, after a few dozen steps, having to buy a new bottle at a convenience store (for an absurd price, obviously), to practices of clear bad faith, such as in the case of airplane seats, which are increasingly smaller and lack space for hand luggage for all passengers, as well as the hospitality sector, in which the rarest thing is… hospitality, it seems that traveling has lost much of its fun side, without talk about glamour, which has long disappeared.

Personally, I gave up on understanding what people find so attractive about sitting on the floor at airports, even when there are seats available in the lobby, or the insane fight for access points in cell phone recharge towers at the gates boarding, considering that the vast majority of aircraft have a USB outlet in the seats, but anyway, overall, these are minor though terribly unpleasant aspects of traveling.

On the other hand, traveling can be a transformative, enriching experience in many aspects. Among them, what always impresses me most is how we transform ourselves in relation to time. It is amazing how, simply by stepping out of our routine, we can completely immerse ourselves in the present, making time seem both fleeting and expansive.

Traveling makes mindfulness a natural response, as opposed to the habitual mode of distraction we tend to practice while going about our daily tasks. When we immerse ourselves in a new environment, we perceive time differently, noticing the rhythm of life in a way that is unique to each place: the hustle and bustle of a busy city, the relaxed pace of a coastal town, or the timeless tranquility of a rural village – each setting offers its own perception of time.

It is as if time is fluid, adapting to the atmosphere and culture that surrounds it, and by moving our bodies in space and immersing ourselves in different environments, we can experience a shift in consciousness. This shift allows us to perceive the world from a new perspective. We have the opportunity to momentarily step into an alternate timeline, where the boundaries of our everyday reality are blurred.

The departure from our conventional existence allows us to gain unique insights and knowledge that we can then bring back home. As we return from our explorations, it feels as we are journeying back from the future, bringing not only memories and souvenirs but also a wealth of new experiences and a deeper understanding of the world around us and of ourselves.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

by on

Dix pour Cent (“Call My Agent”, in the English version) is a French sitcom released in 2015 that revolves around the lives of talent agents working at a Parisian agency. The plot focuses on the professional and personal challenges they face while representing a diverse array of clients in the entertainment industry.

Throughout its four seasons, the show portrays the intricacies of deal-making, client relations, and the glamorous, yet demanding, world of show business. The first season ends with the following sentence, said by senior agent Arlettte Azémar, played by actress Liliane Rovère:

“When things are not going well, there will always be the cinema“

I really like this phrase, and whenever necessary, I resort to its variant:

When things are not going well, there will always be the music.

For me, this is not just a catchphrase, but rather a profound belief that serves as a key to open the door to a refuge that welcomes me when things are going wrong and the world seems like an incomprehensible place.

It is as if the music becomes a soothing companion, providing solace and understanding when the challenges of life feel overwhelming. Far from being an exclusive privilege of music, this healing element is present in all arts.

I am sure that different forms of art have already provided comfort in challenging situations in your life, just as they have in mine, but I would guess that most times you did not realize that they were the ones doing the trick, crediting you well-being feeling to external factors (the place, the company etc), instead of ralizing the magic was happening in you.

I mena, you do not need to be a painter, or a dancer, or a filmmaker to feel the same way about Painting, Dance or Cinema. Just find a form of expression that is dear to you and enjoy it.

Whether producing or consuming art mindfully, by focusing on the comforting and healing aspects of it, you unlock healing companions, who can be very helpful in seeking refuge and emotional relief. In times of difficulty, it is important to intentionally make space for art to manifest itself as a source of comfort in our lives.

The transformative impact of art during challenging moments comes from its power of providing emotional support and, sometimes, that is all we need.

One way to do this is by setting aside dedicated time for creative activities. It does not have have to be much, it can be minutes or hours, you will find out what works best for you.

Whether it is writing, painting, playing an instrument or simply listening to that song you like (and if you suddenly feel ike dancing to it, even better). Creating a designated space for artistic expression can also help, as it signals to the mind that this is a priority. It can be as simple as choosing a nice place to read a book.

Actively seeking out and immersing yourself in art forms can provide a sense of comfort when the world is being mean to us. It is all about recognizing the value of art in providing emotional nourishment and intentionally incorporating it into your daily life. Every simple gesture counts.

When everything goes wrong, the arts always remain, as a healing source that never runs out.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

by on

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.

by on

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.

by on

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.