Boris 1027

[Melissa Hassel]

BRITEDENTSelf Seal Sterilization Autoclave Pouches BSI-1027 are an essential component in maintaining a sterile dental environment. In a box of 200, these disposable pouches are designed with dimensions of 2.75 x 10 inches (70mm x 260mm), fitting items up to 2.75 x 9 inches. The distinctive blue color enhances easy identification, and the pouches are made of see-through material, enabling internal and external monitoring of the sterilization process. Equipped with both internal and external indicators, these pouches provide visible confirmation of successful sterilization.

BRITEDENT Self Seal Sterilization Autoclave Pouches BSI-1027 provide dental professionals with a reliable solution for instrument sterilization. With self-sealing technology, a distinctive blue color, see-through material, and internal and external indicators, these pouches contribute to an organized and efficient sterilization process. Disposable and designed for items up to 2.75 x 9 inches, they prioritize hygiene and ease of use in dental practices. Trust BRITEDENT for quality products that enhance the standards of dental care.

3. No Medical Advice: This item is not intended to diagnose, treat, cure, or prevent any disease. The information provided on this site is for informational purposes only and is not a substitute for professional medical advice.

4. Limitation of Liability: We are not liable for any direct, indirect, incidental, or consequential damages arising from the use or misuse of this item. Use this item at your own risk.

Thank you very much for your interest in E.1027! The villa is not currently open to the public, as renovations are still underway. The villa is scheduled to reopened at the end of 2010, but if you contact Jean-Louis Dedieu, he may be able to arrange a viewing. His contact information is as follows:

I understand that this is on short notice, but I do hope that you are able to reach Jean-Louis and view E.1027. Best of luck! Please do not hesitate to contact me if I can be of any further assistance.

A train rumbled by at high speed and higher sound. I thought to the blond in black, her estate near the tracks, and what horticultural feat is required to subdue the sonic impression of schedule on decidedly lingering and leisurely sun-drenched afternoons.

Moments later, we happened across the official restoration sign posted on the site by the French National Government. We had seen E.1027. It is a strange thing to navigate not knowing what one is seeing, only to find out either way later on, the reassuring signpost in a generalized bureaucratic style authorizing the experience.

We hesitated at those words in black, and pretended to admire the sunset (twenty minutes left) while a family sauntered casually up from the beach. Down we went on the slippery steps and grown-over cliff. A continuous trickle from a drainpipe flowed distractingly to the waves crashing below. Unwilling to go any further (cliffs, waves, growth, and trickles), we climbed up on the drain pipe, clinging to the corner edge of the property fence, just able to see through chain-link the main entrance stair case.

Frustrated at the distance remaining between us and the house, at our inability to touch its walls, or at least have the option of being so close so as not wanting to touch the walls, we headed back up to the trail, our photographic archive in hand, having seen, though not having been revealed, fractured sight lines of the architecture turned archive, of the built form turned ruin turned monument turned art.

We returned to face the black letters of the private walkway once again, determined to climb the craggy coast in hopes for the reticent reward of an unobstructed view. My archive begged for more substantial (mute) testimony, and the sun had set, but not the sky. We moved rapidly and unthinking in absorbed contemplation down the muddied steps, past the trickling drain pipe, across crags and grown over rocks, and up, up to the edge of the property.

Le Corbusier was a fastidious architect, but an equally, if not even more, fastidious archivist. The archive that he left hosts everything from sketches, notes, messages, letters, scribbles in the margins of books, as well as books, papers, conference materials and, of course, architectural drawings, built projects, paintings and photographs. Here again, Gray comes to stand as foil. While her furniture designs live on to this day, having passed on the rights to reproduce and sell them to Zeev Aram in the 1970s, when it came to her own personal papers, her sketches, her letters, her notes, she burned them. Refusing to commit them to posterity, instead Gray committed them to ashes. Ashes to ashes.

Will to enclose in one place all times, all epochs, all forms, all tastes, the idea of constituting a place of all times that is itself outside of time and inaccessible to its ravages, the project of organizing in this way a sort of perpetual and indefinite accumulation of time in an immobile place, this whole idea belongs to our modernity.[28]

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