… that no one can scurry where
my cosmos is contracted
to an ancient manor-house …

Auden, Thank You, Fog



A well-known physiological effect: The color red races at you, it attacks. By contrast, blue retires, wants to disappear.

The creator of traffic lights used the first effect. The Romanticists the second one – those painters as well as poets with their sometimes silly Sehnsucht, the longing for the unknown and their existential desire for completion, They were either drowning themselves in that blue or looking up high – Ins Blaue hinein.



This remains an autumn miracle – the bright and intensely red leaves of the vigne vierge creepers, silhouetted against the wall of the dilapidated house next door to neighbor Roland, who lives at the far end of our village.

As if these tendrils are hanging in my own courtyard!

Sierksma, 10.10/2015 La Roche


Author: rjsiersk

Sierksma was born in Friesland, a 'county' in the northern part of the Netherlands with its own language which he does not speak and with an obstinate population to which he both belongs and does not belong. A retired Professor of Social Philosophy and Aesthetics, as a Harkness fellow he taught at Rutgers and Berkeley Universities in the USA, and at GUAmsterdam and TUDelft in the Netherlands. In 1991 he was awarded his PhD from Leiden University on the subject of 'Surveillance and Task: Labour Discipline between Utilitarianism and Pragmatism'. His books include Minima Memoria (1993), Lost View (2002 with Jan van Geest), and Litter Scent (2013). He has published poems and articles in Te Elfder Ure, Nynade, Oasis and the Architectural Annual. Half the year he lives in Haarlem, the other half he spends in la France Profonde, living ‘in his own words’ as the house out there was bought with the winnings from his essay Eternal Sin, written for the ECI Essay Prize (1993). In this blog, Sierksma's Sequences, written in English, he is peeping round his own and other people’s perspectives. Not easily satisfied with answers nor with questions, he turns his wry wit to a number of philosophical and historical issues. His aim in writing: to make parts of the world light up in his perspective - not my will, thine! Not being a thief, he has no cook, one wife, some children, one lover and three cats.

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