Beau Desordre.
Everything now is algorithm and optimization. Everyone's morning is the same morning. The lemon water. The Pilates. The barre. the matcha. The little linen set. The slow pan across the unmade-but-perfectly-styled bed. There is a French phrase for the opposite of all this... Beau desordre . Beautiful disorder. It is the only way I live. Come spend a day with me... Day in the life.... Whose life? It looks like eleventy bajillion other lives. If your day does not contain your own voice, your own rhythm, your own private superstitions and obsessions and detours... I don't want it. I don't want to see it. I certainly don't want to live it. Beau desordre is the antidote. It is the coffee grinder I use that is older than most people with which I work... And possibly has microscopic grounds from two decades ago still in it, buried in the internal machinery. It is scarred Instapot with permament crust layer from the amount of meal prepped chicken I have made for my dog ov...
