AUJOURD’HUI C’EST LE 28 MAI

If a kindergartener had done that, you probably would want to get it out of your flat. But because I MEANT to write LIKE THAT, it suddenly obtains VALUE and CHARACTER and an undeniable ARTISTIC FLAIR. Not even Merriam-Webster can define these three.

Because I SPECIFICALLY expressed ” AUJOURD’HUI C’EST LE 28 MAI ” not in the mundane routine of a child but as ONE WHO HAD that certain SIMPLE and APT INTENT, MY WILL PREVAILED. It’s like or maybe is an illusion, something being aesthetic, probably. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hang up ” AUJOURD’HUI C’EST LE 28 MAI ” above the window and gaze at it fondly. “Who created such an exquisite, simple work of art?” says my visitor No. 283, a quintessential M. Dupont. I don’t tell him and the value skyrockets even further.

To me, VALUE and CHARACTER and an undeniable ARTISTIC FLAIR - these three - they’re all illusions, but still SIGNIFICANT and so PROMINENT and ATTRACTIVE that entire civilizations are built around them. They’re not really fake but not really real. Undefined, abstract, they’re just there, maybe in the distance, peaking from under the tablecloth of Table No. 283 at that cute bistro on Vaugirard. Kind of like fog - you can ignore these fantasies and have a shit practical life or you can grasp them from the air, lick a few and try to depict in an earthly nature how they tasted and why you really wouldn’t mind having an occasional few.