Plant Liaisons

It quite irritated me, re-reading that I had called them “my” plants (in the previous photo journal post). Is that pronoun correct? Aren’t plants rather “ours”? Or don’t they belong to themselves?
Now I know plants can’t hear me. But we do breathe the same air and belong to the same soil.

Occulto 7: Art-I-Ficial

Tilted poplar trees trying to straighten up in a lab, Alan Turing’s jokes and prophecies, a 18th century machine that utters “MA-MA”, the discarding of the words “discernible”, “underwear” and “sphagnum” as waste, the portrait of a machine learning system as a botanical artist, self-delusion at the service of the secret services.

Change of Scenery

Remember those moments of careless strolling? An art known as Flâneuserie in literature. I have enjoyed browsing through bookshops, bars or museums, practicing my collectioneuse habit of picking up postcards on my way. Nowadays I am practicing #stayhome, and suddenly the image of people in plastic container pops to my mind.

Sinapis alba

The white mustard young plants look a bit messy and weak, but they’re thriving, and blooming. I sowed them about one month ago in the backyard of the apartment building where I live – a shady garden nobody took care of for a long time, but still inhabited by a vegetal and animal crowd.