A scintillating shiver, as Susan’s snapshots arrive, followed by euphoria. An artifact perfectly placed above a fireplace. Almost abstract, a memento mori as stark and beautiful for what it isn’t as what it is. I share with you this evening a Friday frisson far from Rosslyn in terms of decor and geography, but not altogether so far in terms of aesthetic allure.
My Friday frisson might have been triggered by the “singing underneath” or by the emotive fulfillment of a vision slowly cultivated and even more slowly executed. The harmonious yet stirring coalescence of gathered elements — art, artifacts, light, and context — transcends the sum of its parts.
The faint echo of an elk, somewhat diminutive, floating against the whiteness, above the mantle, a simple wrinkle in the masonry, flanked by hand carved statuettes, art and artifact, native and exotic, unframed as if merely mingling. Ad hoc. An invitation to contemplate.
Yes, a frisson floods us with endorphins and dopamine. No, this still life is not at Rosslyn.
… the phenomenon of frisson… is best described as a sudden rush or wave of emotions that some people experience when listening to an emotive piece of music.
Frisson is the French word meaning to ‘shiver’ or to have ‘chills’. But in this case, we’re not shivering because we’re cold, we’re shivering because we’re stimulated by music.
(Source: BBC)
Presiding over the living room fireplace in our Santa Fe home, a world away from Essex, this Friday frisson (and the belated-but-breathtaking convergence that inspired it) offers yet another attempt to capture one ingredient of my notion of homeness.
No, not memento mori per se. Nor skull and antlers.
Something to do with art. Artifacts. Minimalism. Wabi sabi. Integration. Cohesion. The poetry of design. The aesthetics of homing…
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