"I can lift 15 kilos."
"How much do you think you’ll be able to lift when you’re grown up?"
baby: dada /ˈdɑːdɑː/ or Dadaism was an art movement of the European avant-garde in the early 20th century. Many claim Dada began in Zurich, Switzerland in 1916, spreading to Berlin shortly thereafter but the height of New York Dada was the year before, in 1915. To quote Dona Budd's The Language of Art Knowledge,Dada was born out of negative reaction to the horrors of World War I. This international movement was begun by a group of artists and poets associated with the Cabaret Voltaire in Zurich. Dada rejected reason and logic, prizing nonsense, irrationality and intuition. The origin of the name Dada is unclear; some believe that it is a nonsensical word. Others maintain that it originates from the Romanian artists Tristan Tzara's and Marcel Janco's frequent use of the words "da, da," meaning "yes, yes" in the Romanian language. Another theory says that the name "Dada" came during a meeting of the group when a paper knife stuck into a French-German dictionary happened to point to 'dada', a French word for 'hobbyhorse'. The movement primarily involved visual arts, literature, poetry, art manifestoes, art theory, theatre, and graphic design, and concentrated its anti-war politics through a rejection of the prevailing standards in art through anti-art cultural works. In addition to being anti-war, Dada was also anti-bourgeois and had political affinities with the radical left.
""I don’t understand," she moaned. "I don’t understand anything any more." She was sobbing, her face hidden in the cushions, and I began saying meaningless words to her, for no other reason than to hear the purr of my voice. "You’ll get well, you’ve got to get well. Love isn’t everything…" And I knew very well that in her place I would never want to get well and bury my love with my own hands."- Simone de Beauvoir, from The Mandarins (via violentwavesofemotion)
"I gave my three year old daughter some worthless coins, and jokingly told her that she was rich. She went and hid the coins away, and I forgot all about them. Around the same time, my oldest daughter got a bunch of money from her aunts and uncles for her birthday. A few months later, we needed money for food, and I asked my oldest daughter if we could use some of her birthday money. She refused. I almost started crying, because I thought then that I had completely failed as a parent. But suddenly, my youngest daughter appeared, and gave me back the handful of coins that I had given her."
(Mexico City, Mexico)