Melis Menent

It has never been nice to focus on money. Money on its own. It is the kind of tool, the medium in between which should have stayed just there: in the middle. Instead, it has turned into something bitter, adopting a personality of its own. Money with a capital ‘M’ became a person. A friend whom we love better, than any other person. We just know who he is, rather than enjoying its transparency. It has never been nice to focus on money. Money on its own. It is the kind of tool, the medium in between which should have stayed just there: in the middle. Instead, it has turned into something bitter, adopting a personality of its own. Money with a capital ‘M’ became a person. A friend whom we love better, than any other person. We just know who he is, rather than enjoying its transparency.

Business could be about feminine power. It could be honest, it could be happiness. It could channel the productivity of oneself, into something which others can share. It could be pretty. It could take the cities in, instead of creating a group of investors. Investors who sometimes disappear when you need them, investors who had to forget about idealism. Money which focuses on its own, asking for more of it. Making the very idea of fiscal exchange worrisome, for those who are less expressive. For those who are new to materialism. Did business have to be materialistic anyway? There are materialisms. The chocolate which goes on top of my ice-cream, close to this restaurant, matches with the civilisation which allows women to focus on the idea of power.

Money is power. Business may or may not respond to the expectations of a broader civilisation. There’s the issue of price as well: “How much?”. The numerical limits drawn around our minds has forced me to limit my language learning too: I am not capable of having a conversation without a purchase. And the purchases that I can make allowed me to learn only to ask, the price for it. All those little things go into my home… The home which belongs to me, now. Which I use, for the things that I like. Which I do not allow the social dimension of business to go in. There is so much which could have been nicer about business, so much about culture that could have a fair feminism in it. A day long conference gave me the courage to get going, and to get talking. Business is not in honest expression, most of the time. But it could be.

All the worries which I experience about my physical security barely allow me to think: neither about money not about creativity. Art was ample at this conference. As was emotion. Tall flowers filled up the space next to the floor, while olden macchissimo jumped out of the window. It was allowed for women to be intelligent, without being forced to please. Feminist business is an idea. It’s one which got cut halfway, for me, around lunch time. A small doggie falling into the sea sent my worrisome mind to a break from happiness. So much about the environment goes into well-being, so much about security is about what I cannot do. I want to try, alone and with others. It means a lot to talk in a male dominant culture. There are huge differences in the what the speakers can say, on the island and elsewhere. A culture of free speech brings progress with it. Some of it simple, some of it complex. The Self dared to use her own pictures. The city makes you happy, gets you writing, with my beloved ice-cream always waiting for me…