Très lointain intensité, petite lune…
Très lointain intensité, petite lune…
I fell in love with the musical combination of Yokko Kanno and the Russian singer Origa. Compositions thrilling me. But we all die, or just leave, and we never know if when we say good bye it’s going to be said for the last time; if we’re never going to see again to the ones we love in the vigil; to end building with them a blissful pantheon in the world of our memories and the infinite universes inside our dreams. It would have been marvelous to hear to Origa, at least once; to close the eyes and unite with her in that unidimensional reality that is music. Only remains a moorland of things that neither were nor will be.
We have to accept death as a necessary part of life, that makes it brighter and special. What I regret instead is the feeling like a broken thread, a tie, with the past, with you. Suddenly everything seems so far, remote.
A farewell, forever, eternal.
(She sings, in this old video, here )
I was a kid in 80’s but there was no much opportunity to hear music (yep, tough years) And mostly I hear music from past decade or 90’s. But I was thinking in the songs I like from 80’s. It’s personal, I guess some names could be added. Several of them I heard in 90’s or even barely this year so hearing a great part of them doesn’t transport me to that age. They aren’t ordered by preference, except perhaps the first song composed by Vangelis that I always like to hear and I’m not including songs in Spanish language because that list would be quite long.
And the winners are ta-da-da-dam:
A vast theatre for absent characters.
I want to walk into the sea; sea foam vanishing me, making me forget that once I was man.
Things would be better if I could turn into a drop of salt water lost in the ocean.
I want to walk into the sea to be indifferent oblivion of a primitive world.
Revolutions across the Earth, an infinite sleep without dreams.
I want to walk into the sea to extinguish this painful blush.
She just flew…
Please, come back, come back, come back…
Today I read a quote from the House tv series, he was saying, If I’m not wrong around the time he had hallucinations, in a low and slow tone: “I’m fine, I’m just not happy” And I was thinking that that could represent very well these days. Well, the life is not a series of episodes, it has not endings or beginnings, except the ones we want to give it to our own lives. It just flows and continue across us.
The photograph is from a little bus I took in the frontier to Bolivia toward my home in Juliaca. The blue hour in the green fields of the highlands. The shores of lake Titicaca are closer.
A landscape disappearing in colors of a half forgotten dream.
This space is more like a diary, that explains why there are images and texts: they are thoughts of a day. Although I’m not completely sincere in that aspect so I think I’ve to confess a certain doubt, or perhaps a little sadness. I think in the importance to don’t save much to ourselves, those things are going to explode the same and sometimes in violent shapes, heavy thoughts, restlessness; and I try to choose the calmer path, don’t go around there nervous or unfocused. So I guess is better to write about it a bit and just accept that life is sometimes just like that.
These months I have thinking in a lady, and I think that lady thoughts in me too, but for personal problems she just doesn’t allow to love. But these last weeks she has changed and with that changes my mind tricks me thinking several scenarios where she’s just tired; others where she had found or accept another person, and others where simply she just obtained what she wanted. Of course those theories aren’t the reality (I know her and she’s a wonderful person) but my despair about her silence. I tried to induce communication and measure the reactions of her friends but in the end I just sit to think clearer and my conclusion is that she can’t allow herself to talk to me or she doesn’t want to talk to me. In both circumstances as a gentleman I think my only alternative is just end well with a smile for her, respect her wish, don’t ask explanations, be grateful for the shared time and the casualties that made her found me, and to hope she can have a happy life. In the end I just want her to be happy.
The photograph is a building in the coast, I drew the architectural plans and I think I made the electrical and electronic design too and that day I had traveled to modify the plans due to modifications from the owners. Homes in Peru actually are quite simple and don’t use extensive technologies to environmental comfort, communications or integration of smart devices with the structure. Although full of downsides the advantage is a less cost in energetic waste and contamination.
Another Monday and actually the moon doesn’t care that my lips mention her name.
Another Monday and actually the moon doesn’t care about a dumb man building a stair.
Another Monday and actually the moon just doesn’t care.
The Moon is already shattering in lunar pieces. White rocks falling near to me, wanting to die in obstreperous kiss to forget the eons of silent marriage.
I’m outside and I won’t search a roof. I know you are real, I know I’ll hear one last time your voice enlightening my night of lunar dust.