Mythology of Apus

mythology of apus

This starving darkness devouring my whole life

my lady has forgotten me

in a grey universe.

.

Long ago disappeared the last star.

A language of pain is this night

made with a black veil.

.

I feel it fall, the point beyond the end

where only an old inertia remains.

And my Apus so far away.

.

In this kingdom the pleasures are ashes

and happiness is a place in the past.

Why does exist a reality like this?

.

In loveless lands a dragon prefers to sleep,

there is no reason for him to fly

anymore these empty skies

.

I would love to be again a rock against the rain

of a primitive world before men had voice.

But I’m just a forgotten boy.

.

I’m not even the shadow of a memory to my lady

and the night is time leaving a void inside

Why are my Apus so far away?

.

End.

.

(Apus are sacred hills in the Andean highlands of what once was the Inca Empire and the empires before; they are the origin or producers of mankind, in this way to see the world there is no need of a god or gods creators of humanity)

A bit of light

a bit of light

It would be nice a bit of peace… so I’ll close my eyes and I’ll let the world pass -_-

***

In another side of the information I’m playing with musical apps in my laptop and tablet composing rhythms using a system with the keyboard to bypass the musical notation that I ignore; but I couldn’t find one to get violin sounds, I went to my parents’ home in Juliaca to ask for the old violin but it shone by its absence. Anyway, when kid I played it and I remember it hadn’t a good sound so I’m searching in evilbay but it seems it’s a luxury instrument with specific requirements as wood dried at least thirty years. In any case I’ll wait for an app, perhaps a violin for somebody who doesn’t now how to play a real instrument is overkill.

Shadow realm

shadow realm

Pareidolia vision: I can see the face of an old man seeing the hole in the clouds… he’s in the middle. I can understand why our ancestors had the myths of warriors and lovers that would be again part of our parents, the sacred hills called apus, because in our genesis we humans weren’t created by a god but we were produced or generated from special rocks, mountains or lakes… and we can come back.

***

There was a episode in my life that caused me so much sadness, so much than anything before, when it finished I simply couldn’t feel anything, neither couldn’t find reason, among many things, in watching tv, to hear music, reading literature or anything that could give me before pleasure, a bit after I started this blog, as a way to drop photographs to the wind to say good bye to the past. So just to don’t age my mind I started to study science, history, biology, physical sciences. I didn’t read more ancient philosophy because to me it’s closer to literature with its beautiful ideas. The case is that months ago when I knew to my absent lady she suggest me to read Dan Brown’s Inferno. Today seemed a good day to read again so I purchased an original edition (I dislike to buy pirate versions) in English, I know my English to write is pretty basic but I haven’t problems to read long books, my favorite to read English words is Poe. Also I bought Borges’ Book of the Dreams in Spanish, it’s a selection about dreams found in literature and chronicles since the origins of civilization to the age of Borges. He was a very fine reader so I know it’s going to be a great reading. About Dan Brown I know it’s going to be entertained, nevertheless I hope this time the main character can be faster than me to guess the clues.

I don’t feel this as a return to reading, more like a return to melancholy. We’ll see.

Cylindrical twilight

cylindrical twilight

 

And it’s said that in the time that lasts the blue hour with magic arts Cain built a city of cylinders to his son….

Seriously, that part of Genesis always drove me crazy, How is it possible to anyone alone to build a city? Even the work to make something like Flindstone’s Bedrock would represent a titanic effort. I think probably there is a mistake in the translation, something more like a home would be more reasonable. These days I finished to design the concepts for a very special home, when the design is completed I’ll show you something you’ve never seen and that would make the Cain’s city something ordinary in comparison ;-)

At the end of the highway a black night

sleeping town

sleeping town

I’m leaving this world in search of a place with you. Perhaps one in this shared dream that we call reality, perhaps one in this personal dream that we call memory. I’m not in this muted world anyway, anymore.

destiny to the sunset

Destiny: sunset

A final melody composed with the frozen drops of a forgotten rain made of your mementos. This road seems to have only one direction and just one end. A voracious time doesn’t forgive and turns the hours in months and the months in dust.

always two sides

always two sides

 

An infinite horizon says that if you walk someday you’re going to find the one you are looking for, but it doesn’t say you if at the end of the road the one she is waiting for is you.

highway blaze

highway blaze

Exhausting my mornings building vast prophecies, desires to have a night illuminated by your star. My eyes looking up farther and farther away a proof of you; unable to fathom the mirage of lights in this cruelty road.

signals with sleepy eyes

signals with sleepy eyes

Perhaps I should just close my eyes, but there is no sense: inside there is a river and its stream has the music of your laugh and its surface shaped with countless versions of the blaze in your eyes.

wind from a dream

wind from a dream

A world made illusion. A world made of undefined shapes. A silhouette that yell one last time a lie, “I don’t care” replies a river inside.

At the end there is only a lonely night.

(I shot the images in the Peruvian side of the highway around the lake Titicaca while traveling from a trip to Bolivia)