Powerless Marcel Marcelled to the Power of Six

There was a time when running around was possible, running around with a camera even, though they, cameras generally, were always a hinderance.

 

I like this new 'now', this capacity to be the camera, beyond anything Isherwood might have imagined.

 

Running is now virtually impossible, sitting still is the way forward, that finding a tree, any tree, and planting oneself down in front of it. Mixing metaphors, that tree can also be the anchorite's window.

 

Have an idea, look at it, put it down, move on, enjoying indifference if you are capable of mustering it (doable eventually).

 

Then infrathin.

 

“I am a camera with its shutter open, quite passive, recording, not thinking. Recording the man shaving at the window opposite and the woman in the kimono washing her hair. Some day, all this will have to be developed, carefully printed, fixed.”

 

― Christopher Isherwood, Goodbye to Berlin

 

Marcel makes me laugh, toothsome Marcel even more so. The rest is simply what is left, that superfluity called life.

Done