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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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Today I saw a headline about a foolproof method to sleep in sixty seconds. As is often the case with headlines, there was a lot of exaggeration. In fact, it was just a method of breathing that consists of inhaling for 4 seconds, holding the air for seven seconds and exhaling for eight seconds. The 4-7-8 technique, for short.

And you know what? It really works! At least it worked for me in the last couple of nights, when I went to bed feeling too anxious to fall asleep. Sounds familiar?

The reason for my sleepless nights was an unpleasant decision I had to make. After more than ten years as an evaluator for a scientific journal (for more info about my secret identity as a sequential art researcher, read more here), for the first time I issued a negative opinion, recommending not only the rejection of the article, but also that the author revise, well, everything: spelling, methodology, references.

It was not an easy decision to make. Ok, I know that having an article rejected in a scientific journal is far from being the worst thing that can happen to someone, but I also know there is always a lot of time and working involved in it. That is the reason why my comments to the author were very respectful and I also included a series of suggestions, among which that a new version should be submitted to the journal.

In other words: in the worst scenario, the whole episode will help this researcher to learn the ropes and produce a much better article next time. Even so, I felt really bad. Why? After all, saying “no” is part of the duties of an evaluator. True, but yet it was the first time for me. “Publish after the suggestd changes” was the worst appreciation I had to give so far.

It made me wonder: with so many tools, tutorials and all kinds of apps available, why are people writing in such a sloppy way? Probably for the same reason that even with all kinds of cameras and everybody taking pictures all the time, we keep taking the same endlessly repeated “in-front-of-the-mirror-selfie”, over and over again .

Back to the rejected article, I was also surprised by the fact that it was actually submitted to a scientific journal. How many readers did the text have before me? Nobody (a friend, a research colleague, an advisor) suggested changes or, at least, a grammar revision?

Which link in the protocol chain of producing scientific knowledge was broken? And when did that happen? Actually, such questions could be addressed to various aspects of the current aesthetic production, too. Are we getting used to doing everything sloppily?

Sorry for bringing up so many questions. I hope it does not bother your sleeping, but just in case…. breathe.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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The Girl Code is the tenth episode of The Simpsons 27th season. Its first segment holds a delightful scene at Springfield Elementary:

Principal Skinner: “Welcome to computer coding class, which, uh, replaces our last educational fad -mindfulness. Did anyone ever figure out what that was?”

Class: “Uh… Uh… Uh…”

Milhouse: “Uh, shutting up?”

Principal Skinner: “Sure. Why not?”

I just love the definition of mindfulness as ‘be quiet’ because it is impossible to argue with. The episode came right to my mind, when I heard about J.O.M.O.

Oh no, another hipster acronym? Probably, but this one might interest you for the Joy of Missing Out may be a form of liberation.

Do not worry, we are not talking about happiness through alienation (never worked for me), but the ability we have, but which we increasingly give up, to enjoy the here and now. that is, it is mindfulness with a touch of happiness.

You not only do not do stuff, you choose not to do them! I have already written about the right not to do things, which sometimes seems like a taboo. Well, J.O.M.O. is not about defending a right. It is about having a choice. What kind of choices? All kinds, from staying informed but not watching all the news (is it just me?).

It has also to do with not feeling pressured to watch all the series and, instead, rewatch an old movie or maybe go back ten pages in the book I am reading, just for the pleasure of rereading a passage.

The way I see it, J.O.M.O. has mainly to do with knowing what your priorities are and recognizing that for every door we open, several others remain closed. It is not possible to do everything, all the time, and this is not easy for me to recognize.

I am usually that person who is constantly applying for calls, while looking for gigs in the summer and (why not?) filling out forms for artistic residencies during the winter. Not to mention the “almost finished” article that the magazine asked me to write . .. last year. In short: I am the one who tries to open all the doors or at least peek through the keyhole.

As much as I love what I do, it is always necessary to know how to put limits on the to-do list. After all, not even the most organized of the agendas can change the fact that there are only twenty-four hours in a day, regardless of how many activities you schedule to perform.

As much as “overcoming internal challenges” is a frequently repeated subject nowadays, there are times when the best thing to do is to embrace external limits and invite them to dance.

Be seeing you!

G.F.

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Hey, there! Good to see you again. I wanted to write you earlier (missed my previous post?), but my computer needed a week off and I had to cope with that decision. Suddenly without the possibility of keeping my vibrating home office routine, which includes checking the news every three minutes and eventually writing a comment on the latest post about the politics in Brazil, I decided to finally rendering myself to one of the top hits of the pandemic: home baking. And now you are probably thinking: oh, no, making bread at home is so 2020! An outdated quarantine activity, lost somewhere together with balcony concerts and Zoom birthday parties.

Ok, but come on, don´t you have the impression that we are all trapped in a loop of lockdowns? Yesterday is the new tomorrow, so bread it is! While waiting for the dough to rise, I finally took care of that small pile of old books and repaired their ripped covers (transparent duct tape, you are welcome) and even advanced a few pages in my long procrastinated reading. The heat wave in Rio de Janeiro has also helped to pass the time. Since its arrival, my greatest achievement has been keeping my body temperature below the flammable range and, trust me, it´s not an easy task.

The bread was delicious and so were the naps I took after lunch (once there was even a gentle breeze) and when the tech guy sent me a message saying that my notebook was fixed, my first thought was: already? It is sure great to be back and, no doubt, there is a limit for the work you can do nowadays without a computer but all things considered, it was a rather nice week. Mindfulness is bliss.

Be seeing you!

G.F.