Shirley MacLaine and her daughter by Allan Grant, 1959
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Image by Ananda Serné.
Today I feel the presence of a few, some closer than others in reality but so dearing to me, in one way or another.
Thank You so much. There’s no need to say names, You already know it.
Image by Ananda Serné.
Life in Paris was a sweet and endless nothing, which I adored. It’s only that you can’t keep postponing. For that’s what I love to do. Procrastinating, and filling the gaps meanwhile. I said to myself I’d not write here anymore, but I may not be reliable, after all. Today I felt the urgency to come back, even if I can only write whenever I’m down. Greta once said: there’s something we maybe have in common: a certain pleasure of “depression”. That sentence was quite devastating at the time, probably because it’s true. I find in sadness some beauty that I can’t tell. Meanwhile, Andrea recommended me to read Henri Laborit, so it all headed one direction. Accept. And yes, to escape is part of me, and it may not be the devil I always expected it to be.
“Quand il ne peut plus lutter contre le vent et la mer pour poursuivre sa route, il y a deux allures que peut encore prendre un voilier : la cape (le foc bordé à contre et la barre dessous) le soumet à la dérive du vent et de la mer, et la fuite devant la tempête en épaulant la lame sur l’arrière avec un minimum de toile. La fuite reste souvent, loin des côtes, la seule façon de sauver le bateau et son équipage. Elle permet aussi de découvrir des rivages inconnus qui surgiront à l’horizon des calmes retrouvés. Rivages inconnus qu’ignoreront toujours ceux qui ont la chance apparente de pouvoir suivre la route des cargos et des tankers, la route sans imprévu imposée par les compagnie de transport maritime. Vous connaissez sans doute un voilier nommé “ Désir ”.”
Henri Laborit/ Éloge de la Fuite.
Picture: Chadwick Tyler.
Red House Painters – Katy Song
You always meet someone twice, he said. How beautiful to believe it may be true. Cos tonight I’ve missed you and you came to embrace me like the first time you did. Out of the blue, your strong body and your gentle hands. Tonight it wasn’t so, but I know if I saw you for a second time, oh, I’d cry, cry, cry. And I’d smile.
“The perception of beauty is a moral test”
Henry David Thoreau.
art by Leigh Wells.
Picture by Jon Edwards.
Yes! New Joose Keskitalo music came to my hands!
‘Death finnish folk’, someone else defined.
Joose Keskitalo – Pimeydesta Pimeytta Vastaan
‘Tule Minun Luokseni’ is bitter, grotesque, ironic, cool, sweet. His voice can walk in opposite directions, but never lose its core.
Oh, how I love Finland, and the sound of their tongue.
Art by William Anastasi.
The angels in your palm
Sing gentle worried songs
The sweetness of our dreams
Like mountains made of steam.
Silver Mt. Zion – Mountains Made Of Steam
When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me how she knew her angel was by her side. She believed it was her father, dead, watching out all the way from the skies. If there was ever one, my guardian angel went missing too long ago. The strength of my mom is not written in my palm.
Edna’s Nigun is delicate and warm. It’s quiet and bursting illusion, yet shy. It’s a whisper waiting for life. It’s feeling it coming, the light entering intermittently through the window, half shadow, half bright. It’s tiptoeing into the room of happiness, with curiosity. And all butterflies.
Picture by Sannah Kvist.
I have no weekends, no springs, no summers in my head. But work. There’s too much work to be done and I want to settle a place for my songs and my writing, and my visuals. Instead, I run, run run, and I’m leaving behind everything I love, saying well… there’s not time enough…
These last weeks there’s only been a song I’ve listened over and over again. Oh, I really need his pause.
Albert Aromir, the catalan singer-songwriter behind Bedroom, is in between Smog and Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy and with him I’m dragged to the seaside, ben lluny d’aquí…far, far from here… and I’m back in relief. Somehow.
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