. THE TENDERNESS OF THINGS
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Sudden Menstrual Bleeding
Toyo Sesshu: Two crows
The white is drawing.
The heron is white heron
dotted;
is an awful suggestion that in his beautifully organized around
silence and loss.
not draw the brush.
That only helps to see the bottom intact:
the pain of not stained silk
where is the heron
César Martín Ortiz: Toyo Sesshu in
Touches Transit
"I do not think Japanese girl thought for a moment that the development of the bow could be the cause of healing. Not in the sense that we give to the word cause. The cranes were another way of playing the same cards, an attempt to find the secret laws of the universe possible reverse (...) Make paper cranes to not die, get disciplined forms of the report, a number so large that no could fit another thing in thought or other activity in daily life, could be one of the lost laws, a law with which the scholars who tried to cure it, brothers who tried to kill her, could never give.
cranes do not think, as such, are strictly necessary. Suffice to put together a phenomenon - the disease that eats Elvira - another phenomenon of the obsessive part of the acute and painful, you have an obvious symmetry, it is resolved in a closed order in itself. I can not ask Elvira that you make cranes, and I do not know how to do, but I can put these memories in, say, ten thousand words, and added to the repertoire of existing things, and hope that this phenomenon newborn , with which the world had so far, know the touch of a spring in the neglected area where you actually decide things "
(César Martín Ortiz: A reflection in the window or ten thousand paper cranes) tells me
Juan Manuel Caesar is dead we . I can not ask that you to do a hundred thousand cranes to escape a hundred thousand scholars of the stupidity and tontuna. Quite impossible because I do not know how to make paper cranes. But, like Caesar, I believe in reflexes windows and bright colors that flow in the vessels, I think the conversation that raises tenderness things. I do not know how faithful the church supports reflexes. Perhaps in the privacy we all speak the secret language of magic glitter captured. But really not many people with whom I have met them with panting breath, like Chutes and that beauty is born into the world and capable presentiment of " press ignored a spring in the area where you really decide things."
Caesar is dead on day 18. The truth is that sixteen years ago that Caesar out of my life. Our friendship - what is such a thing, brother? What defines only thing that unites us beyond the terror and panic? How do I designate without harming the delicate crane saving with astounding cruelty breaks or, worse, makes us believe that was a dream? -, Our friendship, I say, it was without much pomp circumstance Jaraíz. Circle and shared readings, outlined complicity and perhaps now paradise that damn nostalgia. I think that Caesar would be with me that the nostalgia and sadness, combined blind tenderness. And that conviction unites us camaredería black marketeers.
Sixteen years without knowing of Caesar. Now Juan Manuel tells me that "we are dead" and that "I think you would have liked, if I may say, to know." Juan Manuel believe that redeems my sixteen years of silence (and it does thanks to the light that is present in the other not by my merits). Cesar played an important role in my relationship with writing. As some others - few: fit in one hand - co-reflections, also, I have lost in the past. It's my destiny to destroy-me on the abandonment (not forgetting) the road that leads me to the tenderness of things. Be the fault of the father and mother once freudianos.Tal evil abounds over what we intended, Cesar, to believe.
Sixteen years ago I burned all the books and writings that had been stored since he was fourteen. The first day poems and adolescents. My awkwardness of youth. When I mentioned to Caesar, with the phlegm always halfway between the cosmopolitan gentleman and the gentleman from the provinces, he said "sure there was anything interesting." Nothing more. Respected my decision in the distance and showed - he turned sign of a message, in reflection of a window - the uselessness of the gesture in writing, the revelation that writing is only gesture.
not easy to find fine-tuning between souls who seek the futility of the tenderness of things. With sixteen years of distance, now at the time of his death, I suppose it is necessary to return the break up, show
"another phenomenon of the obsessive part of the acute and painful, that has an obvious symmetry, which is resolved in a closed order itself. "
Death and Friendship in writing
tenderness and reflection.
Smiles and blushes that we lose any nonsense, some distances and fear of misunderstanding. I
with the dedication I wrote Caesar to Touches Transit, are these words mirror image of the secret geometry:
"To Luis / For Caesar, these misguided attempts to approach the tenderness of things"
(April 1995 - January 2011)
César
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