The thing called Instruction For Happiness is justified by (the) circumstances. It is foldable and transportable, to be opened like a book. It (she) has a performative character, character to be performed, to be interpreted by installing. It (she) is to allow us to imagine. A (not too) solid state of: things. Happiness? Which is (why not) built around the vision of opening, stretching, loosening and then lifting the blue ( ) a little, just a little (there where it happened to look like a window it was ment to function like a tender finger’s touch). I hope to make clear: the execution of the Instruction is the Instruction itself, the Happiness itself. It worked. Let’s say it is a pleasure to work! Like that. To practice. And learn pleasure is: a just not yet happinessto be solidified? Eudaimonia as if. Lastingly repeatable. (The relationship between the blue part and the construction is not yet perfect but. I guess an approximation can be created. In a respective environment. By a respective person. No doubt. The weakness of our Instruction: it (she) seems to remain a (just) project but let her: come to an end by being completed. Call it a site. Complete site: elaboration of a practice, an exercise. WHERE it (she) happens. Can happen again. Consider mood. Need? And luck. By whoever. Howmanyever.
Who here whom Gertrude writes as His, this accident of suddenness. In which it passed me. And when the work comes back only with time, it can happen. So I got curious: up the hill. No more than that: indeed the way. He is. But HOW he climbed the hill (that would be the story to include). We could learn to read. Now read all. He climbed. On the hill. On the first day of the year 17. A little bit of lifting, lift a little bit. That’s how I saw it. On command: happiness. And nobody thinks, thinks that is clear. He started by not climbing up the hill. The year, and that was not the beginning, he forgot how he climbed the hill. By mentioning. He mentioned that this was a reminder has made an expression. Of remembering. It could easily be highlighted. On the occasion of a work: no work. He could not do it. Could be easy. Be highlighted. From none. Plant. He climbed the hill, no coincidence, an opportunity. That could have happened. Occasionally every minute, for the moment: nobody counts so much. He is climbing the hill. Could be lost. Letting it get lost. With time. This capable presence. So much. And idle. As if he would go alone. He climbed. It is. True. But not. On this first day of the year. And to say that was a fact. When he got off. On the hill. Or rather what he did. Unexpectedly, also the intention. The stone. That’s all. The offense. Is so much more exciting for anybody if she has contemporaries. (Bologna 01/01/17)