(Silence.)
viernes, 30 de mayo de 2008
miércoles, 28 de mayo de 2008
Lluvia
Se me han roto unas pocas cosas hoy.
Nada grave, con ganas y una escoba se arreglan.
Y con un poco de música.
¿verdad...?
Como hace tiempo.
Some things have broken for me today.
Nothing serious, with some effort and a broom they will be sort out.
And with a bit of music.
Isn´t it...?
Like some time ago.
Nada grave, con ganas y una escoba se arreglan.
Y con un poco de música.
¿verdad...?
Como hace tiempo.
Some things have broken for me today.
Nothing serious, with some effort and a broom they will be sort out.
And with a bit of music.
Isn´t it...?
Like some time ago.
lunes, 26 de mayo de 2008
Azul
Orfeo.
(¿o Morfeo...?
...¿Puedes ver cómo brillan las estrellas en tus ojos...?)
Orpheus.
(or Morpheus...?
... Can you see how the stars in your eyes shine...?)
Patrick Wolf, en realidad,
con su voz de tempestad grave, su violín de demente dulce.
Patrick Wolf, indeed,
with his voice of grave tempest, his violin like a sweet insane man.
con su voz de tempestad grave, su violín de demente dulce.
Patrick Wolf, indeed,
with his voice of grave tempest, his violin like a sweet insane man.
jueves, 22 de mayo de 2008
Proyectos: Tiempo e Identidad
Tiempo.
Con el tiempo, todas las caras te recuerdan a otras caras; todas las situaciones te recuerdan a otras situaciones. Sonríes al conocer a una persona porque su sonrisa te recuerda a la de alguien que amabas.
Con el tiempo, vas acumulando personas,
amores,
dolores,
abandonos,
despedidas,
muertes.
El tiempo son las cosas que vas acumulando sobre tu espalda; hasta que el peso de todas ellas te convierte en una figura encorvada, como una interrogación.
Este es un pequeño trabajo sobre el tiempo, un corto lapso (cinco años) que puede hacerse una vida. O una de las vidas que vivimos, repetida con pequeñas variaciones de matiz a lo largo de los años.
Time.
In time, all faces remind you of other faces; all situations remind you of other situations. You smile when you meet a person because her smile reminds you of that smile somebody you loved had.
In time, you go along accumulating people,
lovers,
pains,
abandonments,
farewells,
deaths.
Time is the things you go along accumulating over your back, until the weight of all of them turns you into a hunched figure, like a question mark.
This is a little proyect about time, a short lapse of it (five years) that can become a lifetime. Or one of the lives we live, repeated with slight variations over the years.
Con el tiempo, todas las caras te recuerdan a otras caras; todas las situaciones te recuerdan a otras situaciones. Sonríes al conocer a una persona porque su sonrisa te recuerda a la de alguien que amabas.
Con el tiempo, vas acumulando personas,
amores,
dolores,
abandonos,
despedidas,
muertes.
El tiempo son las cosas que vas acumulando sobre tu espalda; hasta que el peso de todas ellas te convierte en una figura encorvada, como una interrogación.
Este es un pequeño trabajo sobre el tiempo, un corto lapso (cinco años) que puede hacerse una vida. O una de las vidas que vivimos, repetida con pequeñas variaciones de matiz a lo largo de los años.
Time.
In time, all faces remind you of other faces; all situations remind you of other situations. You smile when you meet a person because her smile reminds you of that smile somebody you loved had.
In time, you go along accumulating people,
lovers,
pains,
abandonments,
farewells,
deaths.
Time is the things you go along accumulating over your back, until the weight of all of them turns you into a hunched figure, like a question mark.
This is a little proyect about time, a short lapse of it (five years) that can become a lifetime. Or one of the lives we live, repeated with slight variations over the years.
El mundo era suave, entonces. Las palabras eran tenues al igual que las sonrisas y las lágrimas. Sabía su lugar, desvaída y diluida; sabía de la gentileza, la dulzura y la ductibilidad. El mundo era pálido, de una hermosura fría. No importaban los extremos, no entendía de finales ni principios.
Entonces, el mundo era suave.
The world was soft, in those days. Words were tenuous just like smiles and tears. She knew her place, faded and diluted; she knew about gentleness, sweetness and ductility. The world was pale, of a cold beauty. It didn´t matter the extremes, she didn't know about ends and beginnings.
In those days, the world was soft.
Se construyó con el dolor y el amor y las tinieblas. El amor era nítido. La oscuridad también. Creía estar segura de quién era después de los desgarros, de los momentos blancos; segura de haberse completado por fin. Ella era, y era entera sólo por respirar a esa persona; tenerla cerca, verla reír, llorar, soñar, fingir. Su tristeza era su tristeza. Su terror era su terror. Su felicidad era su felicidad.
Su oscuridad era su luz.
She built herself with the pain and the love and the darkness. Love was clear. Darkness too. She thought she was sure of who she was after the tearing, after the white moments; sure of having completed herself at last. She was, and she was entire just for breathing that person, having her close, watching her laugh, cry, dream, pretend. Her sadness was her sadness. Her terror was her terror. Her happiness was her happiness.
Her obscurity was her light.
Su muerte fue su muerte.
La despedida llegó abrupta y afilada como un cristal de espejo, ácida como un beso de furia. Doble. Triple. Sangró tanto que creyó partirse por el centro. Las cosas comenzaron a estar en carne viva. La oscuridad era lo mismo que la luz. Todo empezó a desmoronarse entonces, y nada era lo que había pensado. Ni siquiera ella.
El dolor comenzó a enseñarle poco a poco su estridencia. La ausencia comenzó a medrar en el vacío. Pero lo peor, lo más terrible, era que el amor continuaba.
Algo se rompió entonces. Y fue ella.
Her death was her death.
The farewell came abrupt and sharp like a mirror glass, acid like a kiss of fury. Double. Triple. She bled so much that she thought she was breaking up by the center. Things began to be raw. Darkness was the same thing that light. Everything started to collapse then, and nothing was what she had tought. Not even her.
The pain began gradually to teach her its stridency. The absence began to grow in the emptiness. But the worst, the most terrible thing, was that love continued.
Something broke then. And it was her.
Ella era una con las cosas. La ausencia le enseñó que no existía la soledad. El dolor le enseñó que en realidad no tenía piel, y por eso todo la atravesaba como alambres como gritos y estaba dentro de ella y la coloreaba de estallidos de estrella y ella lo atravesaba todo. Todo le decía algo. Pero ella no conseguía entenderlo. Sabía que tenía un nombre, pero no era capaz de retenerlo. Descubrió que era más fácil rendirse a lo que pugnaba por atravesar su piel inexistente.
Allí podría bailar. Podría reír.
No fue porque la liberase del dolor.
Allí todo dolía.
Pero era más hermoso.
She was one with things. The absence taught her that solitude did not exist. The pain taught her that actually she had no skin, and that was why everything went through her like wires like screams and they were inside her and colour her with star explosions and she went through everything. Everything was telling her something. But she wasn't able to understand it. She knew she had a name, but she wasn´t able to keep it. She discovered that it was easier to surrender to what was stroving to went through her nonexistent skin.
There she could dance. She could laugh.
It wasn´t because it released her from the pain.
There everything hurt.
But it was more beautiful.
Entonces, el mundo era suave.
The world was soft, in those days. Words were tenuous just like smiles and tears. She knew her place, faded and diluted; she knew about gentleness, sweetness and ductility. The world was pale, of a cold beauty. It didn´t matter the extremes, she didn't know about ends and beginnings.
In those days, the world was soft.
Se construyó con el dolor y el amor y las tinieblas. El amor era nítido. La oscuridad también. Creía estar segura de quién era después de los desgarros, de los momentos blancos; segura de haberse completado por fin. Ella era, y era entera sólo por respirar a esa persona; tenerla cerca, verla reír, llorar, soñar, fingir. Su tristeza era su tristeza. Su terror era su terror. Su felicidad era su felicidad.
Su oscuridad era su luz.
She built herself with the pain and the love and the darkness. Love was clear. Darkness too. She thought she was sure of who she was after the tearing, after the white moments; sure of having completed herself at last. She was, and she was entire just for breathing that person, having her close, watching her laugh, cry, dream, pretend. Her sadness was her sadness. Her terror was her terror. Her happiness was her happiness.
Her obscurity was her light.
Su muerte fue su muerte.
La despedida llegó abrupta y afilada como un cristal de espejo, ácida como un beso de furia. Doble. Triple. Sangró tanto que creyó partirse por el centro. Las cosas comenzaron a estar en carne viva. La oscuridad era lo mismo que la luz. Todo empezó a desmoronarse entonces, y nada era lo que había pensado. Ni siquiera ella.
El dolor comenzó a enseñarle poco a poco su estridencia. La ausencia comenzó a medrar en el vacío. Pero lo peor, lo más terrible, era que el amor continuaba.
Algo se rompió entonces. Y fue ella.
Her death was her death.
The farewell came abrupt and sharp like a mirror glass, acid like a kiss of fury. Double. Triple. She bled so much that she thought she was breaking up by the center. Things began to be raw. Darkness was the same thing that light. Everything started to collapse then, and nothing was what she had tought. Not even her.
The pain began gradually to teach her its stridency. The absence began to grow in the emptiness. But the worst, the most terrible thing, was that love continued.
Something broke then. And it was her.
Ella era una con las cosas. La ausencia le enseñó que no existía la soledad. El dolor le enseñó que en realidad no tenía piel, y por eso todo la atravesaba como alambres como gritos y estaba dentro de ella y la coloreaba de estallidos de estrella y ella lo atravesaba todo. Todo le decía algo. Pero ella no conseguía entenderlo. Sabía que tenía un nombre, pero no era capaz de retenerlo. Descubrió que era más fácil rendirse a lo que pugnaba por atravesar su piel inexistente.
Allí podría bailar. Podría reír.
No fue porque la liberase del dolor.
Allí todo dolía.
Pero era más hermoso.
She was one with things. The absence taught her that solitude did not exist. The pain taught her that actually she had no skin, and that was why everything went through her like wires like screams and they were inside her and colour her with star explosions and she went through everything. Everything was telling her something. But she wasn't able to understand it. She knew she had a name, but she wasn´t able to keep it. She discovered that it was easier to surrender to what was stroving to went through her nonexistent skin.
There she could dance. She could laugh.
It wasn´t because it released her from the pain.
There everything hurt.
But it was more beautiful.
Apuntes III
Empezando nueva vida.
Así que empecemos por el principio.
O por los principios.
Por uno cualquiera.
O por...
Así que empecemos por el principio.
O por los principios.
Por uno cualquiera.
O por...
(... Hacía tiempo que no empezaba por ningún sitio...)
Starting new life.
So let´s start at the beginning.
Or at the beginnings.
Any of them.
Or at...
(... I haven´t started at any point for a long time...)
Starting new life.
So let´s start at the beginning.
Or at the beginnings.
Any of them.
Or at...
(... I haven´t started at any point for a long time...)
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