lunes, 16 de abril de 2012
Tipograma
Yo miraba los listones
De lluvia sobre mis
Labios
Yo miraba las gotas
Bailarinas sobre el suelo
Yo miraba el momento
Sin fin.
jueves, 22 de diciembre de 2011
Instalacion artistica
Una instalación artística es un genero de arte contemporáneo que comenzo a tomar un fuerte impulso a partir de la década de 1970. LAs instalaciones incorporan cualquier medio para crear una experiencia visceral o conceptual en un ambiente determinado.
Soliloquy: What will the future hold for us?
I don't have a single idea of what carreer to follow. I know that what I hate the most is history, so nothing related with that subject will be the correct one for me. I like finding the logical meaning to things, so at school I'll follow natural science because of maths, biology and physic...But what then? Madicine? Being a teacher? This is not an idea that leaves me calm, it will be something for the rest of my life! I can't choose whatever simple option it appears, as incredible as it seems, I have to think about it before.
An option that seems to be incredible and exciting is following accountancy, but there is a little detail the worries me, and it's that there are subjects like philosophy or others that have nothing to do. What is the sense of learning how to paint when you want to learn how to operate a person? It's the same as now, I have art and gym, and what for? I don't need them! They are unnecesary and horrible subjects!I want something unusual, energic and wonderful to study, and it is important for me to hava a great income because I want shoes!Well, I have 4 long years to think, but I'm nervous and extremely anxious because I'm impatient and I want to know it now!
An option that seems to be incredible and exciting is following accountancy, but there is a little detail the worries me, and it's that there are subjects like philosophy or others that have nothing to do. What is the sense of learning how to paint when you want to learn how to operate a person? It's the same as now, I have art and gym, and what for? I don't need them! They are unnecesary and horrible subjects!I want something unusual, energic and wonderful to study, and it is important for me to hava a great income because I want shoes!Well, I have 4 long years to think, but I'm nervous and extremely anxious because I'm impatient and I want to know it now!
Diary Entry
May 23rd., 1913,
Today, as many days, it was a depressive day. I've been thinking about Emma every moment and I can't believe how stupid I was, not to be able to see what a beautiful women loved me.
When I woke up in the morning, the first thing I saw, was a photograph of us together, very happy and young, when we first met. Later, I went to prepare some breakfast and the feeling that crossed my mind was melancholy because althought she died five months ago, for many years we didn't share a breakfast and we will never share one any more.
She's left, and I hadn't had the opportunity to express her how much I loved her. From the bottom of my heart I know she understood me and forgives me.
At the evening, I decided to walk. I needed fresh air to think how my life would continue but Emma's name was everything in what I thought. My life is turned around her, and when she left me, I was very confused. Sometimes I imagine that she is alive but she, or my halusination, goes out and lets me alone.
I hope someday, I will be the one that I'd always been and accept that Emma is outside my life forever.
The Great Gatsby
When I woke up the next morning I was feeling a little bit dizzy. I went to the kitchen, but I appeared in the living, and it wasn't the one that I remembered; later I went to the bathroom to wash my face, but I appeared in a room, a giant room. I was really confused. My house was different now, I didn't recognize any room and it was big, no, it was enormous. I have tried to find a coherent answer for that strange episode, and suddenly, an old woman wearing a white uniform took my hand.
_What are you doing awake at this hour? You should be sleeping now._She told me.
_Who are you? Where am I? What is happening?_ I cried.
The woman looked at me as if I was crazy, so I tried to tell her my situation, and when I did, I saw my hands. They were wrinkled. My first reaction for this was looking at me in the mirror that was next to the wall. And what happened next, was the worst sensation of my life: I was old, and I didn't remember anything of my life but those moments that I had spent with Gatsby.
The fact of looking me in that old body, affected me. I spent the rest of that day sitted on a chair in front of a mirror, looking to my eyes and trying to understand what was happening. I must have passed hours like that, when I felt a hand, a soft hand on my shoulder. A voice was talking to me, but I didn't understand a word. I was still concentrated on my reflection.
_ I think that the best we can do, is going to sleep. Tomorrow I will arrange a meeting and talk with him, but he is shocked at this moment_ I heard the voice saying.
A nurse took me and drove me to the same room in which I woke up this morning. I have spent at least 4 hours looking at the seiling until I got asleep. But it wasn't a good night for me.
In the morning of the next day, I woke up and there was a 30 aged man looking at me. He was sat next to the door and he was taking down notes in a kind of agenda.
_Oh! You are awake! Do you know who I am?_ He asked me.
As I didn't answer he kept on talking:
_I'm Dr. Gregory, the psycotherapist. I'm going to help you with this problem._ He explained.
_The only problem that I have is that 2 days ago I was in my house near Gatsby's house crying for his life and now I'm somewhere with strange people and nobody explains nothing to me. I'm old and I don't remember more or less 50 years of my life!
_Mmm...nothing new_ He whispered_Let me tell you something dear Nick, you have lost the memory and the only thing that is printed in your mind are those days in your life.
This happened you every week. You wake up and you don't remember anything, you think that yesterday was the day in which Gatsby was killed, but that happened 30 years ago...Now you are in a geriatric, a woman called Jordan Baker, told us to take care of you and them she left and never came back. She left you here.
The words of the doctor puzzled me. 30 years since the murder of Gatsby! Wow...it is incredible.
_Please leave me alone_ I asked to Dr. Gregory_ I need to think about what you have told me.
_Of course, and if you need something, call me. I will be there next door, in my office.
When the doctor left my room, I didn't doubt it. A nurse had left me my breakfast in in the table. It included coffee, pancakes and caramel. What you ned to spread the caramel in the pancake is a knife. I went dirctly to the table, I took the knife, and left this ugly world.
_What are you doing awake at this hour? You should be sleeping now._She told me.
_Who are you? Where am I? What is happening?_ I cried.
The woman looked at me as if I was crazy, so I tried to tell her my situation, and when I did, I saw my hands. They were wrinkled. My first reaction for this was looking at me in the mirror that was next to the wall. And what happened next, was the worst sensation of my life: I was old, and I didn't remember anything of my life but those moments that I had spent with Gatsby.
The fact of looking me in that old body, affected me. I spent the rest of that day sitted on a chair in front of a mirror, looking to my eyes and trying to understand what was happening. I must have passed hours like that, when I felt a hand, a soft hand on my shoulder. A voice was talking to me, but I didn't understand a word. I was still concentrated on my reflection.
_ I think that the best we can do, is going to sleep. Tomorrow I will arrange a meeting and talk with him, but he is shocked at this moment_ I heard the voice saying.
A nurse took me and drove me to the same room in which I woke up this morning. I have spent at least 4 hours looking at the seiling until I got asleep. But it wasn't a good night for me.
In the morning of the next day, I woke up and there was a 30 aged man looking at me. He was sat next to the door and he was taking down notes in a kind of agenda.
_Oh! You are awake! Do you know who I am?_ He asked me.
As I didn't answer he kept on talking:
_I'm Dr. Gregory, the psycotherapist. I'm going to help you with this problem._ He explained.
_The only problem that I have is that 2 days ago I was in my house near Gatsby's house crying for his life and now I'm somewhere with strange people and nobody explains nothing to me. I'm old and I don't remember more or less 50 years of my life!
_Mmm...nothing new_ He whispered_Let me tell you something dear Nick, you have lost the memory and the only thing that is printed in your mind are those days in your life.
This happened you every week. You wake up and you don't remember anything, you think that yesterday was the day in which Gatsby was killed, but that happened 30 years ago...Now you are in a geriatric, a woman called Jordan Baker, told us to take care of you and them she left and never came back. She left you here.
The words of the doctor puzzled me. 30 years since the murder of Gatsby! Wow...it is incredible.
_Please leave me alone_ I asked to Dr. Gregory_ I need to think about what you have told me.
_Of course, and if you need something, call me. I will be there next door, in my office.
When the doctor left my room, I didn't doubt it. A nurse had left me my breakfast in in the table. It included coffee, pancakes and caramel. What you ned to spread the caramel in the pancake is a knife. I went dirctly to the table, I took the knife, and left this ugly world.
Suscribirse a:
Entradas (Atom)