Chateau de Beaumesnil, France (by Catherine Reznitchenko)
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@leysaysfair
Chateau de Beaumesnil, France (by Catherine Reznitchenko)
Farewell Kath
Saddened by the news that a college friend, Kathrina Koa, passed away recently. Thanks Kath for your bubbly presence during PE class. Thank you for insisting to play table tennis with me, even though I sucked, but I needed to complete a minimum number of games to pass the requirement. I will remember you and how you chuckled after making a pun out of your family name. KOA-LA! RIP Koa.
Tagapag-obra
Alain De Botton: The wise office does not make the error of supposing that there could ever be such thing as a psychologically ‘normal’ employee. It knows full well, and is undisturbed by the idea, that we are all, just beneath the surface, in a variety of fascinating ways, distinctively mad, entirely anxious and only just holding it together. This is wholly to be expected and in no way shameful. The wise office has no interest in the fanciful and cruel notion that things could ever be at all times ‘professional’. It recognises the concept of professionalism for what it is; a conspiracy to persuade us that we might be more level-headed than any of us really are. The aim of the wise office is just to mitigate the worst of our psychological frailties - not deny that these might exist. This process begins with a blanket admission, embedded within the company culture, that there will for everyone be periods of extreme mental volatility. Succumbing to terror, starting to cry, falling into despair aren’t anomalies, they are what happens when talented people get together and try to do difficult things. A good company reveres not just the strengths of its people; it’s ready to remember, and make accommodations for all their peculiarities of spirit. The good office gives itself unalarming accounts of what’s going on when an individual is preternaturally adrift, worried, or thoughtful. They are like this not because they are misguided, weak-willed or selfish, but because they are – like everyone – slightly broken. At a collective level, we’ve given ourselves unfrightened accounts of what’s going on when teenagers sit moodily staring out of the window and can’t answer when someone requests that they pass the salt. We know these young people aren’t heading for a life of delinquency; we can stay confident that a reconciliation with the demands of the world will emerge. We should expect analogous periods of confusion and loss of direction to punctuate the lives of every employee. The good office knows that sanity simply isn’t possible for any of us all the time.
Orientalism
Feeling out of place.
:)
One way or another I'm gonna see you I'm gonna meet you, meet you, meet you. One day, maybe next week
A cartoon by David Borchart. For more cartoons from this week’s issue: http://nyr.kr/1gkg3kr
Today, my Lola was laid to rest.
My cousin, who was beside Lola during her final moments, told us that she noticed Lola was struggling to breath. She stopped heaving, stared into space, smiling. Closed her eyes and was gone, just like that.
I may not know everything about her but I did witness how she stood by his husband all her life, to the extent of sacrificing her own happiness and freedom at times. (Pardon, my feminists friends but let me get to my point first). Perhaps, it was her great love and respect for Lolo that enabled her to be patient and loving. She trusted Lolo’s decisions were always for the welfare of their family.
I am happy and find comfort with the thought that they are together now. Loving each other perfectly.
We will miss you!
Lola Pacita
1930 - 2013
Quimper, Brittany, France (by OlyaA (busy))
Stressful week
What did I get myself into?
Soren Kierkegaard.
“Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight in order to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it?
I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself;... In every man there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself; and this may be the case in so high a degree, he may be so inexplicably woven into relationships of life which extend far beyond himself that he almost cannot reveal himself. But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all.”