fragments of perception
conversations, memory and the spaces in-between
Just stumbled upon an exhibition in Madrid devoted to Proust—a writer whose work, much like memory itself, lingers in fragments that resurface unexpectedly. His influence extends beyond literature into art, where echoes of his themes appear in paintings and photography, exploring time, nostalgia, and the elusive nature of recollection.
Reading ‘In Search of Lost Time’ feels like stepping into a dream, one where time folds in on itself, where past and present collapse into a single sensation. Proust understood better than anyone that memory isn’t linear—it’s an experience that sneaks up on you, triggered by something as simple as a taste.
Once, a friend told me about the passage on madeleines, and it has stayed with me ever since: ‘No sooner had the warm liquid mixed with the crumbs touched my palate than a shudder ran through me and I stopped, intent upon the extraordinary thing that was happening to me. An exquisite pleasure had invaded my senses, something isolated, detached, with no suggestion of its origin… And suddenly the memory revealed itself. The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray…when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane. The sight of the little madeleine had recalled nothing to my mind before I tasted it. And all from my cup of tea.’
Proust’s words remind us that memory is not just about the past—it’s something we relive, something that reshapes itself with every return. And perhaps, as he once wrote, ‘The real voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.’
Sharing below some of the works on display at the exhibition ‘Proust and the Arts’.
every day,
I'm struck by the quiet magic hidden in the mundane. In the subtle shift of a gesture, the pause between words, or the soft echo of an untold story, ordinary moments reveal layers of meaning. It's in these silent spaces, in between, that we discover life’s profound symbolism.
When seemingly unrelated worlds converge, something extraordinary unfolds. As Julian Barnes observed, ‘You put together two things that have not been together before. And the world has changed.’
This idea has been echoing in my mind—reminding me that when we juxtapose the unexpected, we open up new realms of understanding.
the art of perception
Aldous Huxley once said: ‘Experience is not what happens to you, it’s what you do with what happens to you.’ And Anaïs Nin reminds us: ‘We do not see things as they are, we see things as we are.’
Every person is a point of view—an artist who, over time, sculpts a very personal way of interpreting the world. Our minds are not passive receivers but active interpreters.
As John Milton mused, ‘The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell and a hell of heaven.’ And George Bernard Shaw nails it down further: ‘Life isn’t about finding yourself. Life is about creating yourself.’
conversations within
Ever catch yourself talking to yourself? In that endless stream of thoughts running in the background?
William James once observed that ‘thoughts themselves are the thinkers.’ Our inner speech often resembles a cast of characters, each contributing to the ongoing conversation that shapes our identity. When you describe how you feel, you’re not just recounting events—you’re offering someone a map of your soul, a guide to the things you hold dear.
We all contain multitudes waiting to be expressed. Every conversation, whether with another person or within ourselves, is a chance to reveal a new layer of who we are.
can’t stop thinking about how
• everyday actions can become symbolically laden with meaning, like rituals we unconsciously create for ourselves
• silence can be as eloquent as words, shaping the spaces between what is said and left unsaid, carrying emotions too complex for language
• fleeting moments often hold the most weight, revealing their significance only in hindsight
• memory is less like a timeline and more like a constellation—fragments scattered, waiting for us to connect the dots
• the smallest details—an object, a scent, a passing remark—can transport us to another time
ty for being here. let’s meet again soon.
♡
bs