#pascal mercier

[secretsofscythes]

on homesickness

Clive Smith, Artist / Ian Cumberland, Distance I / Miriam Adeney, Kingdom Without Borders / Dir. Andrei Tarkovsky, The Sacrifice (1986) / Pascal Mercier, Train to Lisbon / Malcom Liepke, Repose / Margaret Randall, So Many Rooms Has A House But One Roof / Dir. Damien Chazelle, Whiplash (2014)

[entheognosis]

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.

Pascal Mercier

[melauhh]

“We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.” - Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon

📍 DFW, Texas

🎞️ Fujifilm Superia X-Tra 400

[dk-thrive]

In truth, the dramatics of a life-determining experience are often unbelievably soft.

“It is a mistake to believe that the crucial moments of a life when its habitual direction changes forever must be loud and shrill dramatics, washed away by fierce internal surges. This is a kitschy fairy tale started by boozing journalists, flashbulb-seeking filmmakers and authors whose minds look like tabloids. In truth, the dramatics of a life-determining experience are often unbelievably soft. It has so little akin to the bang, the flash, of the volcanic eruption that, at the moment it is made, the experience is often not even noticed. When it deploys its revolutionary effect and plunges a life into a brand-new light giving it a brand-new melody, it does that silently and in this wonderful silence resides its special nobility.” — Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon (Grove Press; October 7, 2008) (via Whiskey River & Alive on All Channels)

[yorgunherakles]

seni okuyan biri olarak sevdim, seni çok sevdim. seni yiyip bitiren bu okuma düşkünlüğün bana tekinsiz görünse de.

pascal mercier - lizbon'a gece treni

[kendimlesworld]

Bir uçağa atlamak ve birkaç saat sonra bambaşka bir dünyaya varmak... Belki de en ihtiyacım olan şey buydu.

[simplicius-simplicissimus]

When we talk about ourselves, about others, or simply about things, we want - it could be said - to reveal ourselves in our words: We want to show what we think and feel. We let other have a glimpse into our soul.

-Pascal Mercier (Peter Bieri), Night Train To Lisbon

[1kafkaesk]

İçimizde olanın ancak küçük bir kısmını yaşayabiliyorsak - gerisine ne oluyor?

Lizbon'a Gece Treni

[mesutbahtiyarolacak]

“İkimiz sanki tehlikeli geçmişten artık korkmamız gerekmeyen bir geleceğe uzanan daracık ve sağlam olmayan bir köprüden geçer gibiydik. Artık birbirimizden kaçmamıza gerek yoktu.”

[poshpeppermint]

Vergeh dich ruhig, vergeh dich an dir selbst und tu dir Gewalt an, meine Seele; doch später wirst du nicht mehr Zeit haben, dich zu achten und zu respektieren. Denn ein Leben nur, ein einziges, hat jeder. Es aber ist für dich fast abgelaufen, und du hast in ihm keine Rücksicht auf dich selbst genommen, sondern hast getan, als ginge es bei deinem Glück um die anderen Seelen. Diejenigen aber, die die Regungen der eigenen Seele nicht aufmerksam verfolgen, sind zwangsläufig unglücklich. 

Marc Aurel

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Louis Moe Opus 100

* * * * *

"Buried under all the mute experiences are those unseen ones that give our life its form, its color, and its melody. Then, when we turn to these treasures, as archaeologists of the soul, we discover how confusing they are. The object of contemplation refuses to stand still, the words bounce off the experience and in the end, pure contradictions stand on the paper. For a long time, I thought it was a defect, something to be overcome. Today I think it is different: that recognition of the confusion is the ideal path to understanding these intimate yet enigmatic experiences. That sounds strange, even bizarre, I know. But ever since I have seen the issue in this light, I have the feeling of being really awake and alive for the first time." - Pascal Mercier

+

"What I want is to live of that initial and primordial Something that was what made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human."

- Clarice Lispector

[alive on all channels]

[mental-food]

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.

-Pascal Mercier (Peter Bieri), Night Train To Lisbon

[lunamarish]

Lanciamo incessanti, fuggevoli occhiate agli altri che nella luce crepuscolare siedono dietro i vetri opachi dei finestrini e scompaiono dal nostro campo visivo non appena abbiamo avuto il tempo di percepirli. Erano davvero un uomo e una donna quelli che sono passati in un guizzo, simili a fantasmi nella cornice illuminata del finestrino emersa dal nulla nel deserto del buio, come ritagliata, senza senso né scopo? Si conoscevano? Si sono parlati? Hanno riso? Hanno pianto? Si dirà: può essere vero per degli estranei che passeggiano e si sfiorano nel vento e nella pioggia; allora la metafora può avere una parte di vero. Ma con molte persone stiamo seduti ben più a lungo a tu per tu, con loro mangiamo e lavoriamo, al loro fianco ci corichiamo, con loro viviamo sotto lo stesso tetto. Come parlare in questo caso di fugacità? Eppure tutto quello che simula ai nostro occhi stabilità, familiarità e conoscenza intima non è forse un'illusione escogitata per tranquillizzarci, un'illusione con la quale cerchiamo di coprire e scongiurare la balenante fugacità che ci turba, poiché sarebbe impossibile fronteggiarla ogni singolo istante?

La vista dell'altro e lo scambio di sguardi non è ogni volta come l'incontro - di una brevità spettrale - di sguardi fra viaggiatori che si sfiorano scivolandosene via storditi dall'inumana velocità e schiacciati dalla pressione atmosferica che si è abbattuta come un pugno su di loro facendo tremare e tintinnare tutto?

Non scivolano sempre via i nostri sguardi che intercettano gli altri come nel frenetico incontro in piena notte lasciandoci con pure supposizioni, schegge di pensieri e qualità che sono semplice frutto di attribuzioni? Non è forse vero che ad incontrarsi non sono gli uomini, bensì le ombre gettate dalle rappresentazioni mentali che gli uni si fanno degli altri?

Pascal Mercier, Treno di notte per Lisbona

[dk-thrive]

It has so little akin to the bang, the flash, of the volcanic eruption that, at the moment it is made, the experience is often not even noticed.

“It is a mistake to believe that the crucial moments of a life when its habitual direction changes forever must be loud and shrill dramatics, washed away by fierce internal surges. This is a kitschy fairy tale started by boozing journalists, flashbulb-seeking filmmakers and authors whose minds look like tabloids. In truth, the dramatics of a life-determining experience are often unbelievably soft. It has so little akin to the bang, the flash, of the volcanic eruption that, at the moment it is made, the experience is often not even noticed. When it deploys its revolutionary effect and plunges a life into a brand-new light giving it a brand-new melody, it does that silently and in this wonderful silence resides its special nobility.” — Pascal Mercier, Night Train to Lisbon (Grove Press, 2006) (via Whiskey River)

[maslimanny]

We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there.

[hellocoraco]

"We leave something of ourselves behind when we leave a place, we stay there, even though we go away. And there are things in us that we can find again only by going back there."

- Pascal Mercier