Let’s play a game.
1. Here are the clues:
2. One scenario, two different interpretations:
She’s standing with a white cup of tea in her hands, looking at the grey clouds on the horizon. The window is lightly stained with condensation – drip drops without a sound. She finds some relief in the warmth of the cup and the smell of orange from the steam. He left.
The clouds released a swirl of liquid silver. It’s trying to insinuate itself through the pores of the refined state of what used to be sand, just left of her gaze. She sips the tea and recalls the smell of oranges on a white Christmas morning, and his fingerprints down the wet spine of a woman who just made love and exchanged the heaviness of her heart with the one in her head. A condensation of pain.
1. Here’s the challenge:
Where are you? What’s in front of your eyes? Tell me your latest, most intense and pleasant memory.
Is your life “visual pleasure” or “factual newspaper article”? Somewhere in between – “hipster magazine”?
I often wonder how people think in social circumstances. Do they filter their thoughts constantly, in predefined and licensed speeches? Do some have a more practical way of transmuting their senses to verbal ablation? Can we find romance in every person we meet or what is it that people want to obtain from each other?
Information, distractions, norm, fashions, routine, concrete disciplines – all abstract to the spirituality of a human being.
What do we make of it all? Who are we? Mobile and rudimentary memory deposits, exchanging information with anyone willing to give some in return. A sort of empirical currency of the factual… but what do we buy with it?
How do we feed our need for intimacy? Can’t the power of knowledge fulfil our strongest desires? Is it still necessary to twist our faces and bodies in a modern orgasm of romance defeated? So primal. So marvellously indispensable. The act of love walks hand in hand with your weaknesses and they all refuse to bow to reason or instinct.
So, are you willing to cooperate with your chemical imbalances to bring some poetry to the table?
B) One scenario, two different approaches:
Hi, I am Mike. How are you?
Hey, I am Rose. Good, thanks and you?
I’m good. Where are you from?
Aaaah, cool I’ve never been there. Is it nice?
Yes, you can visit this town, that museum and you can also eat our famous meatballs.
I’m vegetarian. And what do you do?
We have fake meatballs! I am a teacher. And you?
I am a digital nomad.
Oooh, are you one of those people that travel and work at the same time?
Aaah smorgasbord or how do you pronounce it?
Hi, I am Mike.
Hey, I am Rose.
Odd evening tonight. I wish I’d heard and replied to less biases.
I agree. I felt like getting out of my own skin. I heard the turkey was good.
Cool. Did you know that turkeys can blush? Despite the fact that they can’t flight nor copulate, nowadays.
Oh… that’s sad. Maybe they can’t blush anymore, either.
It sucks to not be able to fly and make love as much as you want.
Funny you say that. For turkeys and people, alike.
(space to smile and ask something with your eyes, possibly blush like the turkeys)
What’s the last book you read? This weather calls for a good story.
A Man Called Ove.
What is it about?
It’s about a Swedish grumpy man and the love of his life. Perfect for dark November.
Try your very own “b” scenario. Right now.
What game is this? If you must label it, then it’s a creative one.
If we’re all a fountain of random, bizarre and wonderful thoughts, should your presence, smile and words bring magic, colour and meaning to every table you’ll ever have the privilege to attend?