“We would rather be ruined than changed
We would rather die in our dread
Than climb the cross of the moment
And let our illusions die.”
—Wystan Hugh Auden
miércoles, 30 de mayo de 2012
The Age of Anxiety (1948)
sábado, 12 de mayo de 2012
double rainbow
Olha! Está chovendo na roseira
Que só dá rosa mas não cheira
A frescura das gotas úmidas
Que é de Luisa, que é de Paulinho, que é de João
Que é de ninguém
Pétalas de rosa carregadas pelo vento
Um amor tão puro carregou meu pensamento
Olha! Um tico-tico mora ao lado
E passeando no molhado
Adivinhou a primavera
Olha! Que chuva boa prazenteira
Que vem molhar minha roseira
Chuva boa criadeira
Que molha a terra, que enche o rio, que limpa o céu
Que traz o azul
Olha! O jasmineiro está florido
E o riachinho de água esperta
Se lança em vasto rio de águas calmas
Ah! Você é de ninguém...
Que só dá rosa mas não cheira
A frescura das gotas úmidas
Que é de Luisa, que é de Paulinho, que é de João
Que é de ninguém
Pétalas de rosa carregadas pelo vento
Um amor tão puro carregou meu pensamento
Olha! Um tico-tico mora ao lado
E passeando no molhado
Adivinhou a primavera
Olha! Que chuva boa prazenteira
Que vem molhar minha roseira
Chuva boa criadeira
Que molha a terra, que enche o rio, que limpa o céu
Que traz o azul
Olha! O jasmineiro está florido
E o riachinho de água esperta
Se lança em vasto rio de águas calmas
Ah! Você é de ninguém...
viernes, 21 de octubre de 2011
I Wonder How Many People in This City
***
I wonder how many people in this city
live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when I look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in every window
looking back at me
and when I turn away
I wonder how many go back to their desks
and write this down.
"The Spice-Box of Earth"; Leonard Cohen.
***
I wonder how many people in this city
live in furnished rooms.
Late at night when I look out at the buildings
I swear I see a face in every window
looking back at me
and when I turn away
I wonder how many go back to their desks
and write this down.
"The Spice-Box of Earth"; Leonard Cohen.
***
martes, 18 de octubre de 2011
UNKNOWN PLEASURES
Joy Division; Strawberry Studios, Stockport, England; 17/04/1979; Factory Records;
sábado, 15 de octubre de 2011
lunes, 5 de septiembre de 2011
jueves, 14 de julio de 2011
Grace Slick y Janis Joplin, por Jim Marshall
1967
1967
* Ambas del libro Trust: Photographs of Jim Marshall (Omnibus Press, 2009).
domingo, 19 de junio de 2011
lunes, 13 de junio de 2011
Tor Ulven (1953–1995)
***
I stand under a tree of hungry hands
No, I stand under NONE
I go to isolation
an empty and absolute isolation
Traverse the desert mile after mile
And last city
I left behind me a long time
Go to great doubt
go to a doubt vanished by bigger doubt.
Why do I stand silent
even I have a mouth
Why do I stand idle
even I have feet
Why don’t I look
even I have eyes
Why don’t I scream
and I am caught in this misery
because I am made of stone.
There is something I can not reach
I do not know what it is
I stretch out to it
Air air air!
***
What are you looking for in the sky?
I’m looking for an image of a star which doesn’t exist.
With my two own eyes
on the other side
I should reach/access the darkness.
But who could see the difference
between darkness and green?
I’m looking for an image of a star which doesn’t exist.
With my two own eyes
on the other side
I should reach/access the darkness.
But who could see the difference
between darkness and green?
***
I will be travelling to Aredo
and I will ornament my broken jars
with an image of goat’s red-horn
I will be travelling to Aredo
and marry the Goldsmith's dead daughter
in the evening
sitting on the threshold of the door
I hear the neighbour’s smile
The newly hatched flies
Around the glare oil’s lamp
Yes, now
Suddenly, I see the Chestnuts tree
In the darkness, contemplating white flowers:
We are dust.
and I will ornament my broken jars
with an image of goat’s red-horn
I will be travelling to Aredo
and marry the Goldsmith's dead daughter
in the evening
sitting on the threshold of the door
I hear the neighbour’s smile
The newly hatched flies
Around the glare oil’s lamp
Yes, now
Suddenly, I see the Chestnuts tree
In the darkness, contemplating white flowers:
We are dust.
***
miércoles, 8 de junio de 2011
Polaroids
Placido Domingo, Mickey Rourke, Christopher Walken y Lou Reed; Polaroids, 20” x 24”; Julian Schnabel; 2008.
Del director de "Le scaphandre et le papillon" (Francia, 2007), esta serie de cuatro fotogramas, de cuatro brillantes personas.
miércoles, 1 de junio de 2011
mensajes
"what the fuck have you done", Philippe Lhomme, Francia, 2006; Fotografiado por Michael Roulier.
“There will be no miracles here”, Nathan Coley, Inglaterra, 2007.
domingo, 29 de mayo de 2011
iris
"There is a garden in her face
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry..."
Where roses and white lilies blow;
A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do flow:
There cherries grow which none may buy
Till 'Cherry-ripe' themselves do cry..."
miércoles, 27 de abril de 2011
Pole Dancing
"Work it like you're working a pole
Shake it 'til you're shaking the floor
Pop it like you're poppin' a cork
Don't Stop, Don't Stop
Jerk it like you're making it choke
Break it like you're breakin' a code
This is serious
I'm delirious
So oblivious
I could dance all night
So intoxicated
I'm so stimulated
Feel so X-rated
I could dance all night"
Bagge, Anders, Tolbert
Shake it 'til you're shaking the floor
Pop it like you're poppin' a cork
Don't Stop, Don't Stop
Jerk it like you're making it choke
Break it like you're breakin' a code
This is serious
I'm delirious
So oblivious
I could dance all night
So intoxicated
I'm so stimulated
Feel so X-rated
I could dance all night"
Bagge, Anders, Tolbert
miércoles, 1 de diciembre de 2010
viernes, 5 de noviembre de 2010
jueves, 4 de noviembre de 2010
Freud's rectification (Philosophy-digestion), Erwin Wurm, 2004.
‹Was heisst es, Künstler zu sein? Kunst zu machen.›
(¿Qué significa ser un artista? Hacer arte.)
Un ejemplo de las llamadas "one minute sculpture" del artista austriaco, quien intencionalmente obliga al espectador a asociar la pieza con las teorías psiquiátricas del psicoanalista y neurólogo austriaco.
miércoles, 3 de noviembre de 2010
Boundary
"A section of a city, especially a thickly populated area inhabited by
minority groups often as a result of social or economic restrictions".
*John Baldessari, George Nicolaidis; Six Years: The dematerialization of the art object 1966 to 1972.
Texto que el artista Baldessari imprimió en estampas adhesivas de color plateado (6x4 cm) y que pegó por toda la ciudad de Seattle en la década de los sesenta. Su objetivo era concientizar a la población marginada de tal ciudad norteamericana, que en aquella época se encontraba atravesando problemas raciales fuertes.
Banksy; Bethlehem, Israel; diciembre 2007
Primera de una serie de seis intervenciones en un muro (considerado ilegal por las Naciones Unidas), de 700 kilómetros que bordea los territorios ocupados de la franja en disputa en aquel país oriental;
martes, 2 de noviembre de 2010
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lunes, 1 de noviembre de 2010
El Golem, Jorge Luis Borges, 1964, tomado de El otro, el mismo
Si (como el griego afirma en el Cratilo)
El nombre es arquetipo de la cosa,
En las letras de rosa está la rosa
Y todo el Nilo en la palabra Nilo.
Y, hecho de consonantes y vocales,
Habrá un terrible Nombre, que la esencia
Cifre de Dios y que la Omnipotencia
Guarde en letras y sílabas cabales.
Adán y las estrellas lo supieron
En el Jardín. La herrumbre del pecado
(Dicen los cabalistas) lo ha borrado
Y las generaciones lo perdieron.
Los artificios y el candor del hombre
No tienen fin. Sabemos que hubo un día
En que el pueblo de Dios buscaba el Nombre
En las vigilias de la judería.
No a la manera de otras que una vaga
Sombra insinúan en la vaga historia,
Aún está verde y viva la memoria
De Judá León, que era rabino en Praga.
Sediento de saber lo que Dios sabe,
Judá León se dio a permutaciones
de letras y a complejas variaciones
Y al fin pronunció el Nombre que es la Clave.
La Puerta, el Eco, el Huésped y el Palacio,
Sobre un muñeco que con torpes manos
labró, para enseñarle los arcanos
De las Letras, del Tiempo y del Espacio.
El simulacro alzó los soñolientos
Párpados y vio formas y colores
Que no entendió, perdidos en rumores
Y ensayó temerosos movimientos.
Gradualmente se vio (como nosotros)
Aprisionado en esta red sonora
de Antes, Después, Ayer, Mientras, Ahora,
Derecha, Izquierda, Yo, Tú, Aquellos, Otros.
(El cabalista que ofició de numen
A la vasta criatura apodó Golem;
Estas verdades las refiere Scholem
En un docto lugar de su volumen.)
El rabí le explicaba el universo
"Esto es mi pie; esto el tuyo; esto la soga."
Y logró, al cabo de años, que el perverso
Barriera bien o mal la sinagoga.
Tal vez hubo un error en la grafía
O en la articulación del Sacro Nombre;
A pesar de tan alta hechicería,
No aprendió a hablar el aprendiz de hombre,
Sus ojos, menos de hombre que de perro
Y harto menos de perro que de cosa,
Seguían al rabí por la dudosa
penumbra de las piezas del encierro.
Algo anormal y tosco hubo en el Golem,
Ya que a su paso el gato del rabino
Se escondía. (Ese gato no está en Scholem
Pero, a través del tiempo, lo adivino.)
Elevando a su Dios manos filiales,
Las devociones de su Dios copiaba
O, estúpido y sonriente, se ahuecaba
En cóncavas zalemas orientales.
El rabí lo miraba con ternura
Y con algún horror. ¿Cómo (se dijo)
Pude engendrar este penoso hijo
Y la inacción dejé, que es la cordura?
¿Por qué di en agregar a la infinita
Serie un símbolo más? ¿Por qué a la vana
Madeja que en lo eterno se devana,
Di otra causa, otro efecto y otra cuita?
En la hora de angustia y de luz vaga,
En su Golem los ojos detenía.
¿Quién nos dirá las cosas que sentía
Dios, al mirar a su rabino en Praga?
El nombre es arquetipo de la cosa,
En las letras de rosa está la rosa
Y todo el Nilo en la palabra Nilo.
Y, hecho de consonantes y vocales,
Habrá un terrible Nombre, que la esencia
Cifre de Dios y que la Omnipotencia
Guarde en letras y sílabas cabales.
Adán y las estrellas lo supieron
En el Jardín. La herrumbre del pecado
(Dicen los cabalistas) lo ha borrado
Y las generaciones lo perdieron.
Los artificios y el candor del hombre
No tienen fin. Sabemos que hubo un día
En que el pueblo de Dios buscaba el Nombre
En las vigilias de la judería.
No a la manera de otras que una vaga
Sombra insinúan en la vaga historia,
Aún está verde y viva la memoria
De Judá León, que era rabino en Praga.
Sediento de saber lo que Dios sabe,
Judá León se dio a permutaciones
de letras y a complejas variaciones
Y al fin pronunció el Nombre que es la Clave.
La Puerta, el Eco, el Huésped y el Palacio,
Sobre un muñeco que con torpes manos
labró, para enseñarle los arcanos
De las Letras, del Tiempo y del Espacio.
El simulacro alzó los soñolientos
Párpados y vio formas y colores
Que no entendió, perdidos en rumores
Y ensayó temerosos movimientos.
Gradualmente se vio (como nosotros)
Aprisionado en esta red sonora
de Antes, Después, Ayer, Mientras, Ahora,
Derecha, Izquierda, Yo, Tú, Aquellos, Otros.
(El cabalista que ofició de numen
A la vasta criatura apodó Golem;
Estas verdades las refiere Scholem
En un docto lugar de su volumen.)
El rabí le explicaba el universo
"Esto es mi pie; esto el tuyo; esto la soga."
Y logró, al cabo de años, que el perverso
Barriera bien o mal la sinagoga.
Tal vez hubo un error en la grafía
O en la articulación del Sacro Nombre;
A pesar de tan alta hechicería,
No aprendió a hablar el aprendiz de hombre,
Sus ojos, menos de hombre que de perro
Y harto menos de perro que de cosa,
Seguían al rabí por la dudosa
penumbra de las piezas del encierro.
Algo anormal y tosco hubo en el Golem,
Ya que a su paso el gato del rabino
Se escondía. (Ese gato no está en Scholem
Pero, a través del tiempo, lo adivino.)
Elevando a su Dios manos filiales,
Las devociones de su Dios copiaba
O, estúpido y sonriente, se ahuecaba
En cóncavas zalemas orientales.
El rabí lo miraba con ternura
Y con algún horror. ¿Cómo (se dijo)
Pude engendrar este penoso hijo
Y la inacción dejé, que es la cordura?
¿Por qué di en agregar a la infinita
Serie un símbolo más? ¿Por qué a la vana
Madeja que en lo eterno se devana,
Di otra causa, otro efecto y otra cuita?
En la hora de angustia y de luz vaga,
En su Golem los ojos detenía.
¿Quién nos dirá las cosas que sentía
Dios, al mirar a su rabino en Praga?
*En este poema, Borges cita al filósofo judeo-alemán Gershom Scholem, así como la novela de Gustav Meyrink; Der Golem, 1914.
.jpg)
domingo, 17 de octubre de 2010
domingo, 19 de septiembre de 2010
She stands there smiling captivating my demur,
I sit back and gasp thinking I used to know her,
The soul of the party gold suits her well,
So shocked by her beauty that I almost fell,
An effect of respect I check that my heart’s still beating,
It’s pounding at alarming rate I gotta watch my seating,
I’ve gone numb her smile as bright as the sun,
If this were a song here you’d insert some drums.
Gradually reality sinks in and I gulp,
This daydream I had slowly turns to pulp,
I’m looking at photos inserted on the internet,
An effect of regret I never witness what had transpired,
Where’d you get that dress was it bought or hired?
You looked so beautiful, happy and you looked bold,
Every part of your body and mind worth its weight in gold,
You kept on smiling yeah you did what I asked.
I sit back and gasp thinking I used to know her,
The soul of the party gold suits her well,
So shocked by her beauty that I almost fell,
An effect of respect I check that my heart’s still beating,
It’s pounding at alarming rate I gotta watch my seating,
I’ve gone numb her smile as bright as the sun,
If this were a song here you’d insert some drums.
Gradually reality sinks in and I gulp,
This daydream I had slowly turns to pulp,
I’m looking at photos inserted on the internet,
An effect of regret I never witness what had transpired,
Where’d you get that dress was it bought or hired?
You looked so beautiful, happy and you looked bold,
Every part of your body and mind worth its weight in gold,
You kept on smiling yeah you did what I asked.
martes, 24 de agosto de 2010
one wing
We once belonged to a bird
Who cast his shadow on this world
You were a blessing and I was a curse
I did my best not to make things worse for you
It isn't true, I always knew this would be our fate
This is what happens when we separate
This is happens, all dead weight, eventually
We may as well be made of stone
We can't be flown
One wing will never fly
Neither yours nor mine
I fear we can only wave goodbye
Jeff Tweedy
Who cast his shadow on this world
You were a blessing and I was a curse
I did my best not to make things worse for you
It isn't true, I always knew this would be our fate
This is what happens when we separate
This is happens, all dead weight, eventually
We may as well be made of stone
We can't be flown
One wing will never fly
Neither yours nor mine
I fear we can only wave goodbye
Jeff Tweedy
either way
Maybe the sun will shine today
The clouds will blow away
Maybe I won't feel so afraid
I will try to understand
Either way
Maybe you still love me
Maybe you don't
Either you will or you won't
Maybe you just need some time alone
I will try to understand
Everything has its plan
Either way
I'm gonna stay
Right for you
Maybe the sun will shine today
The clouds will roll away
Maybe I won't be so afraid
I will understand everything has its plan
Either way
--Jeff Tweedy
The clouds will blow away
Maybe I won't feel so afraid
I will try to understand
Either way
Maybe you still love me
Maybe you don't
Either you will or you won't
Maybe you just need some time alone
I will try to understand
Everything has its plan
Either way
I'm gonna stay
Right for you
Maybe the sun will shine today
The clouds will roll away
Maybe I won't be so afraid
I will understand everything has its plan
Either way
--Jeff Tweedy
"The most dazzling blend of colors wrapped all into one endless sky. The red swirled with orange and pink... a hint of purple and yellow. The clouds turn and float away, as if to follow the sun behind the black sparkling curtain, that falls over the land. A new light is formed by the moon, cashmere traded for diamonds. By moonlight, by starlight... a dark shadow lays over the sleeping world. Soon enough, the moon slips away, the parading sun raises that mysterious black curtain, and a new fresh light warms the world once again. The continuous and mighty show, the unique and enchanting artwork by the God..."
S. K. Brown
S. K. Brown
Waters rushing, pouring, roaring,
Spirit leaping, dancing, soaring,
Waters flowing, neverending,
Spirit moving, twisting, bending.
Here is life. Here is peace.
Here is energy and release.
I want to soar and rush and roll,
A waterfall to be my soul.
From dawn of time to present flood,
The waters flow, and feed the bud
Of life and love and grief and joy.
Joel P. Shempert
Spirit leaping, dancing, soaring,
Waters flowing, neverending,
Spirit moving, twisting, bending.
Here is life. Here is peace.
Here is energy and release.
I want to soar and rush and roll,
A waterfall to be my soul.
From dawn of time to present flood,
The waters flow, and feed the bud
Of life and love and grief and joy.
Joel P. Shempert
miércoles, 23 de junio de 2010
Vampires and Tall Buildings
There were some buildings... There were these really tall buildings, and they could walk.
Then there were some vampires.
And one of the vampires bit the tallest building, and his fangs broke off.
Then all his other teeth fell out.
Then he started crying.
And then, all the other vampires said, 'Why are you crying? Weren't those just your baby teeth?'
And he said, 'No. Those were my grown up teeth.'
And the vampires knew he couldn't be a vampire anymore, so they left him.
The end.
--Max Records.
Then there were some vampires.
And one of the vampires bit the tallest building, and his fangs broke off.
Then all his other teeth fell out.
Then he started crying.
And then, all the other vampires said, 'Why are you crying? Weren't those just your baby teeth?'
And he said, 'No. Those were my grown up teeth.'
And the vampires knew he couldn't be a vampire anymore, so they left him.
The end.
--Max Records.
miércoles, 28 de abril de 2010
Equality 7-2521
They existed only to serve the state. They were conceived in controlled Palaces of Mating. They died in the Home of the Useless. From cradle to grave, the crowd was one --the great WE.
In all that was left of humanity there was only one man who dared to thing, seek, and love. He, Equality 7-2521, came close to losing his life because his knowledge was regarded as a treacherous blasphemy... he had rediscovered the lost and the holy word --I.
"I worship individuals for their highest possibilities as individuals, and I loathe humanity, for its failure to live up to these possibilities."
--Ayn Rand.
In all that was left of humanity there was only one man who dared to thing, seek, and love. He, Equality 7-2521, came close to losing his life because his knowledge was regarded as a treacherous blasphemy... he had rediscovered the lost and the holy word --I.
"I worship individuals for their highest possibilities as individuals, and I loathe humanity, for its failure to live up to these possibilities."
--Ayn Rand.
lunes, 12 de abril de 2010
lunes, 5 de abril de 2010
trabajar, cine, leer, correr, comer, chatear, escuchar, gritar, reir, saludar, querer, saltar, viajar, manejar, componer, volar, arreglar, caminar, evitar a la tele, molestar, oscurecer, platicar, soñar, concertear, beber, llorar, jugar, pensar, flotar, llamar, romper, comprar, ordenar, enloquecer, estremecer, brillar, estirar, escribir, ordenar, dormir, desordenar
...
...
the perfect bet
Because the house always wins, you play long enough, you never change the stakes, the house takes you, unless when that perfect hand comes along, then you bet big, and then you take the house.
domingo, 4 de abril de 2010
the new seven deadly sins
sympathy
being sad
restlessness
hesitating about anything
useless daydreaming
feeling guilty
thankfulness
*the above was in the order of evilness
**extracted of Park Chan-Wook's: I'm a cyborg, but that's OK.
being sad
restlessness
hesitating about anything
useless daydreaming
feeling guilty
thankfulness
*the above was in the order of evilness
**extracted of Park Chan-Wook's: I'm a cyborg, but that's OK.
sábado, 3 de abril de 2010
miércoles, 31 de marzo de 2010
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