rien ne vaut un lego. rien.

l’absolut est absurde et pourtant. Seems my childhood was woven in absolutes. Unaware but drifting INTO a market mentality I’d flow from Lego to Lego. Though each seemed to me a world of its own only fused by my hand; I had not yet realized they were all tied together in product lines and brand identities. Set after set, box after box, they were packaged realities, so little ambiguity other than the reach of my ingenuity. The were tailor-made or seemed to be. How did I ever think I’d had grown out of them.

After eight years I finally bought a new set. Nothing to regret. It sat in my living room idle. Eying at me, begging for me to fondle, its bricks its tricks. but eight years. Eight years is a long time to numb eagerness. One thing is to buy, another to have, and yet another is to BE having, all too often mistaken for behaving.

That I did, for two weeks I behaved, conditioned: there was work to do, to be done. The question, remains, taunting, the Lego eyeing. So I surrendered, fuck id. almighty id.

In a second, I found myself crouched on the floor, hypnotized by the schemes, rivet-ized by the teams, yellows and blues, blacks and reds dressed in cues. I sat there until friends came over. Blindly giving my minutes and hours to the set. No better way to reset.

When the friends left I played some more. In the morning I set an alarm, I had things to do, but it was necessary for me to start the day fiddling with the Legos. In the end I even woke up before the alarm… Hadn’t done that since I was ten… Wake up earlier than required to play Legos…

Eight years is a while. You have time to see things differently many times. As I followed the instructions on the page, the indications guiding me towards the “proper assembly,” I couldn’t help but to marvel in front of the clever color-coding, the clarity and efficiency of the wordless instructions and the magic of the pieces’ perfect tolerances.

Eight years later it was the first time in a really long time where I felt looked out for. There is a beauty to actively witnessing something that WORKS, without imposing itself on you. Any second I could’ve stopped, made something else. However, it was like a stroll through ones carefully crafted microcosm, where parts of the puzzle respect each other, absorb and absolve one another, I could see all of a sudden where my thirst for “perfection” had had time to thrive. Legos make the world and its humans seem deceivingly fixable. I honestly believe there is no such thing as FIXING society but I now see why I held on to such a belief for so long: it’s reassuring.

Surprisingly, the second I finished the set, I noticed I profound difference with how I would’ve reacted eight years ago: I wanted to give the set (a crane) a personality… Make it speak, or at least grant it a for of expression, perhaps to pull it out of the world of legos into that of unfixable real-life.

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seems like we should all have a couple of words we hold dear, we hold sacred, we protect. today so many branding efforts and ad campaigns use “word from the everyday of the ‘people’ ” that they all lose meaning. nothing new indeed, commodification has been around for a while now but it seems a simple form of passive resistance would be to, thus, chose several words that we protect from generalization, that we try to use only when MOST necessary.

mine would be:

play, home, disruptive.

these three i hold dear, and i hear being overused far too much:

“playful design” “kid’s like to play” “serious play”

“home coffee” (where the “baristas”, complete strangers, will tell you “welcome home!”)

“disruptive innovation” “disruptive product” “disruptive idea”


the first one to me is meant to be used a lot, but not in a commercial context WHATSOEVER.

the second should never be part of an ad or branding its application should be immense: a shelter, a land, a room, an idea, a group of people can all be homes and it’s important to reserve a word for them

the third one is only to be used in hind sight, in retrospect, “2010 was a disruptive year”, “the internet wasn’t that disruptive”

Processing the process again

Hello, hello, new school year, same intentions, on-going projects, surprisingly, my desire to write up posts is much weaker (perhaps because I don’t have internet at home…). ANYWAYS, here is a bit of work:


What you see here is me re-exploring my “windforming” project and coding it all in processing instead of processing+grasshopper originally.


Swedish bugs…

Sketchbook from the Parisian metro to the London tube

loosening and tightening the pen, the flesh, the light the fight

Missing – All of it

What is the point of missing? Missing someone?

Why give so much attention to a void that could be filled otherwise? We often keep rooms, compartments, that grow out of other compartments, shrines, spaces we curate in the name of our affection, in our love for. for. for. for what at that moment seems irreplaceable.

Until it is indeed replaced, by death or any other sort of departure. The room, vacant; deserted, seems too cheesy for anyone  else to live in. Too tacky, too saturated. Too personal. Until, the room crumbles, lifeless… Its colors turn pale, and then, only then does it become bearable for a new visitor to clean the walls, adapt the space, turn it into their palace. But how much of you has stayed a carcass in the process?