There are several ways of botching your body without organs. If you unleash it with too violent of an action, if you blow apart the strata without precaution, then instead of engendering the plane you will be plunged into a sewn-up hole. The hypochondriac body, the paranoid body, the schizo body,…
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Félix Guattari
Pierre-Félix Guattari (French: [ɡwataʁi] (listen) ; April 30, 1930 – August 29, 1992) was a French psychotherapist, philosopher, semiologist, and activist. He founded both schizoanalysis and ecosophy, and is best known for his intellectual collaborations with Gilles Deleuze, most notably Anti-Oedipus (1972) and A Thousand Plateaus (1980), the two volumes of Capitalism and Schizophrenia. 2Biography 3Clinic of La Borde Guattari was born in Villeneuve-les-Sablons, a working-class suburb of north-west Paris, France. He trained under (and was analysed by) the psychoanalyst Jacques Lacan in the early 1950s. Subsequently, he worked (until his death from a heart attack in 1992) at the experimental psychiatric clinic of La Borde under the direction of Lacan's pupil, the psychiatrist Jean Oury. La Borde was a venue for conversation among many students of philosophy, psychology, ethnology, and social work. One particularly novel orientation developed at La Borde consisted of the suspension of the classical analyst/analysand pair in favour of an open confrontation in group therapy. In contrast to the Freudian school's individualistic style of analysis, this practice studied the dynamics of several subjects in complex interaction; it led Guattari into a broader philosophical exploration of, and political engagement with, a vast array of intellectual and cultural domains (philosophy, ethnology, linguistics, architecture, etc.). 31960s to 1970s From 1955 to 1965, Guattari edited and contributed to La Voie Communiste (Communist Way), a Trotskyist newspaper. He supported anti-colonialist struggles as well as the Italian Autonomist
Under capitalism: You will be organized, you will be an organism. You will be a subject, nailed down as one.
The lines of flight coil and start to swirl in black holes, like a snail. Down instead of high. Instead of making a body without organs sufficiently rich for the passage of intensities the creative line turns into a line of abolition.
We can at least see what philosophy is not: it is not contemplation, reflection, or communication.
We had never stopped asking this question previously, and we already had the answer, which has not changed: philosophy is the art of forming, inventing, and fabricating concepts.
Sometimes chaos is an immense black hole in which one endeavors to fix a fragile point as a center. Sometimes one organizes around that point a calm and stable "pace" (rather than a form): the black hole has become a home. Sometimes one grafts onto that pace a breakaway from the black hole.
One ventures from home on the thread of a tune. Along sonorous, gestural, motor lines that mark the customary path of a child and graft themselves onto or begin to bud "linesof drift" with different loops, knots, speeds, movements, gestures, and sonorities.
It is well known that rhythm is not meter or cadence, even irregular meter or cadence: there is nothing less rhythmic than a military march.
From chaos, Milieus and Rhythms are born. This is the concern of very ancient cosmogonies. Chaos is not without its own directional compo-nents, which are its own ecstasies. We have seen elsewhere how all kinds of milieus, each defined by a component, slide in relation to one another, over one…
People are constantly putting up an umbrella that shelters them in a firmament of conventions and opinions. But poets make a slit in the umbrella, they tear open the firmament itself, to let in a bit of free and windy chaos and to frame in a sudden light a vision that appears through the tear. But…
Art begins not with flesh but with the house. That is why architecture is the first of the arts.
This is, precisely, the task of all art and, from colors and sounds, both music and painting similarly extract new harmonies, new plastic or melodic landscapes, and new rhythmic characters that raise them to the height of the earth’s song and the cry of humanity: that which constitutes tone, health,…
The artist is a seer, a becomer. He has seen something in life that is too great, too unbearable also, and the mutual embrace of life with what threatens it, so that the corner of nature or districts of the town that he sees, along with their characters, accede to a vision that, through them,…
It is always a question of freeing life wherever it is imprisoned, or of tempting it into an uncertain combat.
From virtuals we descend to actual states of affairs, and from states of affairs we ascend to virtuals, without being able to isolate one from the other.
Logic is always defeated by itself, that is to say, by the insignificance of the cases on which it thrives.