when you change yourself, you change the world
sunday notes on revolution
the tiniest impact can shatter a window, you probably will never realise how you changed someone’s life. change yourself and you change the world.
the olympics opening ceremony inspired me to re-listen to magma, gojira’s sixth album and my favourite. on friday, the band performed ‘ah! ça ira’ a song popular during the french revolution, atop an ancient prison and residence of past kings. the whole ordeal was full of not-so-hidden messages, bitterly ironic considering the multiple controversies surrounding the organisation of the olympics or the lvmh sponsoring. to be honest, all that irony turns sweet when looking at the recent elections and the victory of the left, it got better when the far-right parties started to cry online at the paganism of the ceremony.
if you don’t like metal, you’re not listening to it loud enough, i pushed the volume up until it wouldn’t go any louder anymore until the lyrics left an imprint on the nooks of my brain. i hope my words make a small change, a tiny crack in your mind, like a zephyr ruffling hairs, inspiring freedom, inspiring an individual revolution.
i went on a run. my lungs have refused to work at full capacity in the last four years and my incapacity to build speed, to build distance, to build any endurance is despairing. i have run for as long as i can remember. preferably alone, against myself. i started slow, building pace, keeping my same rhythm until i could unleash myself, the way i used to let a horse go full speed, giving in on the reins. the feeling is the same. seeing the muscles of my thighs carrying me, pushing me ahead, making me fly in a long leap, leaping over puddles, over branches, over my thoughts
i finished reading Lauren Elkin’s scaffolding this morning. in the garden, the sun warming up my back, black coffee clearing up the night’s fog. it was a brilliant book, it reminded me of la femme rompue by Simone de Beauvoir. the feminist undertones of the storytelling. one of the storylines is about the work of les colleuses,1 a feminist collective who stuck up slogans on the streets, highlighting violence against women, showing the fight against misogyny is far from over. a silent revolution, beyond the media and the fucked up narrative of gender violence2 and to the streets, for everyone to see: removing the secrecy of domestic abuse.
exchanging voice notes with my friend L the other night lifted a weight off my chest, a reminder of the quality of the friendships i made in brussels. 553 kilometres away, all i’ve got is a statue on my arm - a reminder. every time we meet, every time we talk, i reemerge more inspired than ever. a handful of women pushing the world forward, each in their own unique way. small revolutions changing worlds, changing minds, one at a time.
maybe there is no such thing as a small revolution.
i listen to gojira because my brother told me they slapped, further down the road i got into metal after a flirt sent me a link, i understand the impact of art, the importance of history thanks to a couple of great teachers, i run because my dad encouraged me, i read scaffolding because the bookseller recommended it, i know about les colleuses because of a feminist friend.
the tiniest impact can shatter a window, they probably will never realise the ways in which they changed my life. change yourself and you change the world.
The Guerrilla Feminists Papering Paris at Night, Marie Claire
he is not a nice guy if he kills and abuses. it was not a happy relationship, so stop putting pictures of the ‘happy couple’ in your article describing how he killed, stalked, terrorised her. she didn’t go to the police because at best they wouldn’t believe her, at worse they would abuse her too. i wrote on the topic in more detail in this article:
