A place where no one can find us, with a sound sleeping my ears, I can't see nothing, but I can listen, just listen, I can see the past. I can see a child, a child waiting for his friend, a friend, that right now, is unknown. I don't want silence, I want this sound in my brain. I feel more louder, and more, and more, please, someone, bring my past to me. My brain sleeps, my ears active, just I want lost things. My heart beating, my mouth screaming, I want to do things right. Dear listener or reader,
could you understand me? I want a lot of things, and the sound is dissapearing, there's a lot of things in the infinity, and nothing here. What we have to do...
A contribution by Marcelo Salvatierra...thank you for sharing! Photo by Carlos Hernández
Seeing the landscape, to find you somewhere
and I just can’t
deal with my own reflection
and with all this, and the movement
it’s like a
confusion
and with all this, with your movement
it’s like a confession
then,
can you be my God?
I would be down on my knees
for you, all day
for you,
all night;
there’s no time or space anymore
there’s no life or death
anymore
there’s no ending for this feeling
there’s no greater infinite
than this.
A contribution by Nicolás Lobo...thank you for sharing! Photo by Carlos Hernández
Marina Abramovic y Ulay fueron amantes por allá por los '70. Se amaron con locura y recorrieron el mundo juntos desarrollando su arte arriba de una van Citroen.
En algún momento decidieron que su relación ya no daba para más, y decidieron terminarla con otra acción artística; cada uno iba a pararse en un extremo de la Gran Muralla China, y la iban a recorrer a pie para encontrarse en el medio, darse un abrazo y seguir su camino.
Siempre se amaron, mas nunca se volvieron a ver ni hablar...ni a contactar entre ellos.
En el 2010 el MoMA hizo una retrospectiva con el arte de Abramovic, y parte de la performance era el estar sentada en una mesa frente a cualquier extraño, durante un minuto, sin decirse una palabra, y mirarse.
Ulay llegó a verla.
This is the story:
Marina Abramovic and Ulay were lovers along the 70´s. They loved each other madly and travelled together around the world, always developing their art upon a van Citroen.
In one point they decided that their relationship should be ended and they decided to finish it, with another action of art; each one of them, was going to begin in one extreme of the Great Wall of China, and they were going to walk through it by foot, until they meet in the middle, hug each other, and keep going in each way.
Since then, they love each other but they didn´t talk, made any contact, or saw each other never again.
In 2010, the MOMA made a retrospective with Abramovic´s art, and a piece of the performance was that Abramovic would be sitting, next to a table, facing any stranger that may come, during one minute, without saying a word, but just looking at each other.
...la matriz ha dado a luz al segundo integrante de la Familia
Opuscular...en este día,
"Landscapes" da su segundo aliento a la serie
Opusculario
...the womb has given birth to the second member of the Opuscule Family...this day, "Landscapes" gives his second breath to the Opusculario series (poetic brochures)
Fueron tres sonidos Were three sounds; Uno
que salióone, that came out
Uno
que entróone, that went in
Y
otro que rebotóand another one, that bounced.
Hubo
tres silenciosThere were, three silences
El
del hombreone from the man
El
del niñoone from the child
Y
el del cobardeand one
from the coward.
Habían
tres almasThere were, three souls
La
mutuathe mutual one,
La
grandethe big one,
Y
la esencialand the essential.
Hay
tres yoThere is, three of myself
El
que hizothe one that made,
El
que seráthe one that will be, Y el que escribe. and the one that writes.
Habían
tres terciosThere were, three thirds
El
de los despreciosthe one of despising,
El
de los conformistasthe one of the conformists,
Y
el de los libertariosand the one of the libertarians.
Encontraron
tres animalesWere found, three animals
Los
de carnethose with flesh Los de hueso those with bone, Los
de grasathose with fat.
Eran
tres los diosesThere were three, those the gods El espíritu the Spirit El padre the Father, El hijo the Son. Son
tres las olvidadas Three are, the forgotten
La
carnethe Flesh,
La
madrethe Mother,
La
hijathe Daughter.
Guardaron mis tres llantosKept safe, my three mournings
Los ojos the eyes, Las mejillas the cheeks, Y las lágrimas and the tears.
So familiar and overwhelmingly warm
This one, this form I hold now.
Embracing you, this reality here,
This one, this form I hold now, so
Wide eyed and hopeful.
Wide eyed and hopefully wild.
We barely remember what came before this precious moment,
Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This body holding me, reminding me that I am not alone in
This body makes me feel eternal. All this
pain is an illusion.
Tan familiar y sobrecogedoramente cálida
ésta, esta forma que ahora sostengo.
Abrazándote, esta patente realidad,
ésta, esta forma que ahora sostengo, tan
esperanzado y con los ojos abiertos.
Salvajemente esperanzado y con los ojos
abiertos.
Apenas si recordamos lo que vino antes
de este precioso momento,
Escogiendo estar aquí en este preciso
ahora. Aguanta, mantente dentro...
Este cuerpo que me contiene,
recordándome que no estoy solo en
este cuerpo que me hace sentir eterno.
Todo este dolor es una ilusión.
We barely remember who or what came before this precious moment,
We are Choosing to be here right now. Hold on, stay inside...
This holy reality, this holy experience. Choosing to be here in...
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal all this pain is an illusion.
Alive, I!
This holy reality, in this holy experience. Choosing to be here in...
This body. This body holding me. Be my reminder here that I am not alone in
This body, this body holding me, feeling eternal all this pain is an
illusion...
Of what it means to be alive.
Swirling round with this familiar parable.
Spinning, weaving round each new experience.
Recognize this as a holy gift and celebrate this
chance to be alive and breathing
chance to be alive and breathing.
This body holding me reminds me of my own mortality.
Embrace this moment. Remember. we are eternal.
all this pain is an illusion.
Apenas si recordamos quién o qué vino
antes de este precioso momento,
Estamos escogiendo estar aquí en este
preciso ahora. Aferrándonos, manteniéndonos dentro de...
esta sagrada realidad, esta sagrada
experiencia. Escogiendo el estar aquí en...
Este cuerpo. Este cuerpo que me contiene. Se aquí mi recordatorio de que no estoy
solo en
este cuerpo, este cuerpo que me
contiene, sintiéndome eterno todo este dolor es una ilusión.
¡Vivo, Yo!
En esta sagrada realidad, en esta sagrada
experiencia. Escogiendo el estar aquí en...
Este cuerpo. Este cuerpo que me contiene. Se aquí mi recordatorio de que no estoy solo en
este cuerpo, este cuerpo que me contiene,
sintiéndome eterno todo este dolor es una ilusión...
de lo que significa el estar vivo.
Girando en torno a esta familiar
parábola.
Hilando, tejiendo en torno de cada nueva
experiencia.
Reconoce esto cual un don sagrado y
celebra esta
oportunidad de estar vivo y respirando
oportunidad de estar vivo y respirando.
Este cuerpo que me contiene me recuerda
de mi propia mortalidad. Abraza este momento. Recuerda. Somos eternos. Todo este dolor es una ilusión.
Parabol/Parabola
from “Lateralus” Album by Tool (2001) – Video directed by Adam Jones
a
neverending lack, a
hunger of sounds, of wounds, of
haughty blackberries, that
have surrendered to the secrets of
thy pubic plains; it
is my hunger, an avalanche of
flavours, when you open my mouth spinning
yearning among yearnings. I
don`t know more. I
don`t know more. On
the visceral symphony all
the kisses are transformed in
guillotines, in clubs, you
tear me apart.
