2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Discjuggler Need Reboot
The folder where the images are stored is called primerita. So begins the work of the year, recovery and meeting. My desire, expressed only a few days ago, was to recover what has been lost or overlooked last year, and enjoy, all the way, new discoveries, roads ...
The pictures are something that should guide the way that everything will go fixing, accommodating.
is also the pulse of what is left in, or is, hardly explored in boxes and forgotten, along with written or dug up in the morning immediately, and always the desire to transcend it, or explain.
Thus:
difficult Awakenings
A year later, in the morning, to the work and obligation. Everything with her weight, each item with your madness, or dose, at least, dislocated slug.
Thus, self found or rescued, a sheet that reflects or portrays the moment, hacwe one year, or twenty-five or thirty-four, in a sense, a motive, an intention. And a pleasure, and pain.
same hearing that the fragments did not even know lost.
Yesterday, at least half an incomplete album that I knew (and still so), but allows the pianist to rediscover uppercase, who was also master (master class, says he received-shared) none other than Martha Argerich and Maurizio Pollini, found as usual (equal and Ravel along with the left hand, and Satie ...) in the mist that of the same reflection seventies found ...
And nothing, it still retains the box are incomplete Preludes, Book I, and the famous Children's Corner. The music that surrounds everything, and the booklet accompanying the box and includes the explanation, the story that Debussy thought his piano pieces have their ideal audience in only four ears (that I understood in my basic French), and that his daughter was named as him, but Emma, \u200b\u200band they called Chouchou. Follow
feeling that everything is over, still in the beginning of a year that you want especially big, wonderful. Meet
also, hobbies, customs, rituals and everyday essence hacencia sharing with noble things, necessary, producers, generators. To know
adrift.
(January 13, 2009) other hand (in two white sheets, lost in a cardboard box):
many pieces of me I am now in a drawer, is shreds of times literally I keep huge in my memory. Is seventy-three, and some thoughts on the film and its surroundings.
And there are pieces of cardboard, drawings, colored leaves, huge lists of words and a letter from my return from Europe almost there in seventy-six (it was April, was 21 years and had you, my parents to come for me, or rather, come to me it's time, it was time to return).
Of the rivers of words rescued a few: For example, a short blade, torn from its spiral, forever
... and go out looking, but where?
says Pablo Milanes that "life is worth nothing, here in Mexico, someone sang that very reason. But it was not the same, and I know I must leave to seek and be of words that I can not tell someone (observation of fire that I heard two and a half years) is that it has been difficult just to be heard and spectator, actor and singer, never, because yes, no.
And I want to unlock, open, save, repeat something that I thought, I wrote, told her. Not to know more, but to know better what I myself have been constructed, referring, arming. The night I say it, the night me d. The night is always discovering, for me, sore bits and pieces of insight that have become transparent mysterious stones of my wanting to have my circumstances, my testimony, my stay on this earth
AND ALL THIS IN ONE REALITY , A SINGLE BOUND, which sometimes can not seem to handle, but THAT IS NO DOUBT THAT IS HOW THINGS ARE BEFORE AND COMPARISON WITH CROSS THOSE GOOD, AND THE NOW.
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