I am an object in an interior.
I just moved to my new apartment. It's almost November. I feel as if in a dark temple. I ask myself every day: Why am I here. What I will do. And will the unknown have mercy on me. I think about the amount of bowls and clothes I have at my disposal here. How can I compose the inside in a way that may protect me from the chaos outside. How can I compose the inside also in order to protect me from the chaos inside.
Here an annotated excerpt from Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons (Objects)
I might work on this translation more later.
"What is the use of a violent kind of delightfulness if there is no pleasure in not getting tired of it.
[Why should we indulge if we are afraid of losing interest in whatever we are indulging.]
The question does not come before there is a quotation.
[The desire to indulge is not problematized before there is a prohibition or a bad conscience.]
In any kind of place there is a top to covering
[Wherever we go, the action of covering (covering up?) (suppressing?) (hiding?) always includes an object that covers, like a blanket, a lid, a sheet, a wall, a curtain]
and it is a pleasure at any rate there is some venturing in refusing to believe nonsense.
[it is brave to formulate one's own opinions and beliefs, and define one's own moral.]
It shows what use there is in a whole piece if one uses it and it is extreme and very likely the little things could be dearer
[Forming one's own beliefs and opinions is an indulgence, rules and orders coming from the outside are easily accepted, and the one that follows them does not appear as monstrous as the one that indulges.]
but in any case there is a bargain and if there is the best thing to do is to take it away and wear it and then be reckless be reckless and resolved on returning gratitude."
[If one indulges in the iteration of one's own beliefs, one is likely going to be rewarded with great happiness, which naturally ends up in the desire to make others happy, too.