At first, I wanted to find something by using the catalogue, but It wasn’t very long until I realized that it wasn’t relevant knowing that the tags were only subjective,
How could it work without generating something too literal?
At least, this process of research wasn’t the right one with the tags that I chose.
For this book, it took me less than one hour to pick it, as each time I wasn’t able to select a piece without already having a specific idea of what I wanted in my mind.
But still, I felt frustrated
Frustrated by the impossibility, or more precisely the struggle of being opened,
Being able to see, to take the time to observe the books that were surrounding me.
There were so many information and possibilities around that I wasn’t able to decide or to think about what I wanted or at least to consider those things.
I think that, in a way, that book happened to me because of this frustration.
I see this choice as the translation of my state of mind at this precise moment.
Fortunately, this book might have been what I was searching for, I just saw this thin white line between all those imposing and colorful editions.
I needed something simple, purified, that’s precisely, in my view, what I found.
All those blank spaces, accentuated by those vibrant black lines
Those micro architectures, in the form of sketches.
I was struck by a drawing when I opened this book, it is a drawing of the sun.
That reminds me of le Corbusier’s sketches concerning the housing units of Marseille and the principle of the sunshade.
I like this simplicity and this clarity
I also see those lines which I like a lot, thin, imperfect, instinctive.
