Para mí, los dos representan dos maneras distintas de sentir lo mismo, dos formas para el mismo fondo. Dos atuendos distintos para el mismo guía, dos tonos para la mano que puede coger la tuya cuando te sientes caer. Dos dioses, dos humanos, y otros muchos que habrá como ellos y que yo no conozco; otros dos, otros cuatro, otros mil millones de guías, de salvadores, de elegidos, de dioses, de humanos...
Qué importa si nacieron con siglos de diferencia ... Qué más da si uno en India y otro en Belén; si uno nació en Guadalajara y el otro en Groenlandia...qué diferencia - si dejas las formas y la lógica y te centras en el mensaje- hay entre lo que dice el uno y el otro? Ambos me han ayudado en los momentos malos;


sUeÑo VaLsEaDo~

sUeÑo VaLsEaDo~

Vídeo: click
(S. Rodríguez)

Una vez me entretuve con un sueño,
lo tomé, lo solté, le di tres vueltas,
lo aprendí, me lo puse, fui su dueño
y pensé que era cosa ya resuelta.
Y soñando que un sueño era mi traje
pretendí la canción, la poesía,
y aquel sueño aprendió todo el mundo de mí
(e iba yo sin saber que él sabía).

Y así fui por tierra, por los mares,
por los cielos, las noches y los días,
los amores, los templos y los bares,
así fui con mi sueño que sabía.
Y aquel sueño que yo soñaba puesto
comenzó a soñar que el me soñaba,
y un buen día aprendí todo el mundo de él,
y ahora somos pareja de sala, e inventamos un vals
que bailamos para soñar.

Sueño que bailó un vals
y el vals soñando
que con su hombre
bailando va.
Sueño y soy sueño: soy un vals
que viene y va,
que viene y va,
que viene y va ....


Writing ...

(Music: Debussy's Clair de Lune, if you don't have your own handy at the moment...)

Writing days ...

I am adopting writing as a hobby. I don't know if I have ever written anything that is worth showing to someone...Perhaps you don't know until you try. Anyway writing, much like reading, has been a helping hand at hard times and has recently become a need to me. It is a shelter and a reliable source for motivation when I can't find other sources around.

(I am an absolute beginner, but) it doesn't take a long time to realize how exciting it can be waiting for inspiration and, on the other hand, how empty you can feel when it doesn't come.

Inspiration seems to be something interesting. Sometimes it is related to calm, sometimes to stress.
Sometimes it comes on gloomy days, some times it's impossible to write a word if you don't whip all your gloom away first.

You may wait for a long time without coming across a single idea...or you may find yourself exposed to a rain of interesting topics, scenes, etc. that hit you while queing in the supermarket, driving or playing tennis, for instance.

There is, however, a situation where I can almost be sure that inspiration will come: traveling.
There are many kinds of travels; physical journeys are only one of them. But this one greatly helps inspiration coming.
Finding myself on a plane, on a train, on a bus...with several hours ahead available to fill with something...Watching the landscapes, the cloudscapes with their mysterious drawings...feeling how the world moves away from you, just to find, eventually, that it remains in the same place where you left it...

That's why I don't like going anywhere without a pencil and a piece of paper...

Last time, I took two of my favourite books with me. Both are about traveling, describe long and exciting trips. One of them involving physical travels too. This time I opened the other one around the middle pages. The main character was visiting places I had been to just days before. It was like reading my travel diary. The places were not physical; they were cognitive places, emotional landscapes. I could have written something very similar (if I had had the skills necessary). And I bet this story's author has never visited the physical places I have; I will probably never walk along the streets, the parks, the concert halls where (s)he came across these ideas...Or maybe I will, if I take a cultural trip or something ...But, even in those places, I won't necessarily get an inspiration so amazingly similar that I have had this time. Indeed, I could have arrived to the same place as any other author or any other person wherever, even if we have grown up in totally different cultures.

Muses seem to travel chaotically across space-time and their favourite play seems to be establishing connections between places and spaces light-years away. Such connections help us finding the things that are, in the end, common to all of us...


Revolución * Amaral


Medias negras

Dos versiones, una obra maestra

A) Versión de Willy Chirino

B) Versión de J. Sabina