Enamorado de los comics/ acuarela de Gipi
William Blake - the Divine Comedy
El Paris Review informa que el jueves murió una poeta a los 89, Caroline Kizer, a la que no he escuchado jamás (a los poetas se los escucha, no se les lee).
Publica dos poemas de su archivo. Me encanta este. Hoy es un día lluvioso y raro, enjoy.
No sabemos cuándo nos despedirán, nos abandonarán o abandonaremos, tendremos ébola u otro virus, y recordaremos los detalles efímeros de cada día.
Caroline Kizer - Gerda
Down the long curving walk you trudge to the street,
Stoop-shouldered in defeat, a cardboard suitcase
In each hand. Gerda, don’t leave! the child cries
From the porch, waving and weeping; her stony mother
Speaks again of the raise in salary
Denied. Gerda demands ten dollars more
Than the twenty-five a month she has been paid
To sew, cook, keep house, dress and undress the child,
Bathe the child with the rough scaly hands
she cleans in Clorox; sing to the child
In Swedish, teach her to pray, to count her toes
In Swedish. Forty years on, the child still knows how.
hoy me apetece una película de Bette….
Young Girl Holding a Monkey, c. 1721, pastel on blue paper, Paris: Musée du Louvre.
la eterna paradoja de longing/belonging
Checking Instagram’s comments from a good friend about Paul Bowles reminds me of Jane Bowles. I was blinded by “Two Serious Ladies”.
Here, a picture from Jane and her lover taken from an essay by Creig:
“One photograph of the writer Jane Bowles, walking arm in arm with her Moroccan lover Cherifa through the sun-bleached marketplace at Tangier, remains burned into my memory. And this, for its several incongruities: Jane’s white tea dress, her thin, tan limbs, her eyes peering in the light and heat; Cherifa, in her niqab and dark glasses, slightly bent, and her arms caught, oddly, behind her back, as if she were being led in handcuffs; and finally, the bystanders, enjoying the camera as if witnesses to an arrest.
The first image of Chris Marker’s Sunless, “of three children on a road in Iceland, in 1965,” is what fictitious cameraman Sandor Krasna says to be “the image of happiness.” And so, for me, the photograph of Jane and Cherifa in Tangier must be the image of unhappiness.
And indeed, many years later, Paul Bowles would suspect Cherifa of having poisoned Jane, of having induced the stroke that would leave her mentally and physically handicapped until the end of her life. Whether Cherifa did poison her or not, it is certain that she left little parcels, containing herbs, menstrual blood and pubic hair, in her houseplants so as to put curses upon her. Paul believed Cherifa capable of anything, especially where his wife was concerned, and fired her several times over the years from her position as housekeeper. But Paul lived far from Tangier and returned only briefly, if periodically, to visit Jane. And however forcefully and permanently he dismissed Cherifa, returning to Tangier, he always found that Jane had taken her back.”
Essay by Christiane Craig —)
Vera & Vladimir Nabokov cazando mariposas.
Los dibujos de Nabokov