Friday, December 18, 2009

Masterbation Using Sarees

2 (Bolivia, June 2009) Bruce Chatwin

My second encounter with Bruce Chatwin, I had it in the literary pages of the "Correo del Sur" newspaper of Sucre (Bolivia) in the form of a huge picture that covered the entire height of the tabloid Half-page horizontal. Image
apparently well known author, but for my part, I had never seen ...
journalist "taking advantage" of Chatwin, to evoke a Bolivian writer (Eternal ....) South American nationalism which, in a book, treated more or less Patagonia SA, without imitating Chatwin provided, it seems, and I forgot the name ....
I love this beautiful black and white, and that air of Che Guevara's journey, it gives the author of "Anatomy of wandering."

But beyond the icon, I love those eyes that seem lost on the horizon invisible to ordinary mortals .... In
would I encountered these travelers!, The background of a bar where you could hear every language, and whose eyes suddenly seemed to die ....
placing a darkening sky where the stars were lit one by one, and apparently waiting than their flickering .....
Will they, too, had to respond to the eternal question: Trip-flight, or travel-quest?
Certainly they have responded, as I did long to stay and hang around by the last event ....
Oh, I found, of course ...., and everything I was looking for.
I found the power of the oceans, found immense plains under beautiful skies of rain, found the turquoise waters that reflected, swaying palms, magnificent glaciers, deserts found Selvas ruthless and deep, majestic trees found and cataracts which floated rainbows, found snowy peaks that stood in a pure cobalt, such as diamonds, met men, also riding in open spaces without end, and others weeping at the feet of an ATM that had refused ten Reais, met with joys, sorrows encountered, met, finally, a hand caressing and loving eyes ... but I fled, and I still am.
I am bored I am
night
The blades gray
Where nothing shines. And I'm

As can be
I

As one can follow a star that, at the same rate
Traveling
Let me steal

Always remember
As for what kills
That Is not Mais la mort l'
immobilité.



My second encounter with Bruce Chatwin, I was in the literary pages of the newspaper Correo del Sur Sucre (Bolivia) in the form of a huge painting that covered the entire height of the tabloid more than half a page width. Image
apparently well known, but for my part, I had never seen ...
journalist "took advantage" of Chatwin, to evoke a Bolivian writer (Eternal South American nationalism), in a book, was more or less of Patagonia, but without imitating Chatwin and whom I forgot the name .. ..
I love this beautiful white black, and the likeness of Che Guevara's trip, which gives the author of "Anatomy of vagrancy."
But beyond the icon, I love those eyes that seem lost in the horizon, invisible to ordinary mortals .... The
of these travelers have found! In the back of a bar where you could hear every language, and whose eyes were suddenly shut down ....
Gazing upon a darkening sky little poo and where the stars were lit one by one, and apparently hoping that flashing ..... YOURS
will they also had to answer the eternal question: Travel-search or a trip / flight?
undoubtedly have responded, as I have for a long time and to stay recmendable, with the last event ....
Oh, I was, of course! and everything he wanted.
found the power of the oceans, vast plains found beautiful skies rain down, I found where the turquoise waters reflected, ondulentes palm trees, beautiful glaciers, deserts found mercilessly and deep forests, waterfalls and majestic trees found where rainbows fluttered I found snow-capped peaks straightened into a pure blue, like diamonds, I met with men, also riding in areas without limits, and others crying to feet of an ATM that had denied ten real, I met with joy, I met with misery, I met at last with a hand caressing and loving glance ... but flee, and still run away.
Huyo boredom
Huyo night
The gray dawns
shines Where no nothing.
And I'm
As can be
I still
As can follow
A star,
Traveling at the same speed
I always

elusive to remember that
Lo que mata
No es la muerte
the Sino inmovilidad.

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