Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Difference Deluge Sprinkler
When the angels gather ...
guess this is living. Gift of friendship. Of empathy, affinity. Of the details materialize without retail price of the value of indelible. What I do know for sure is that my fate is to enjoy it, share it, live it with emotion. The fate of that part my anonymity.
Maybe I should not make public the private. Perhaps someone will ask "because I care", but can not find another way to show my gratitude. What good is life without emotion or gratitude? And that means talking about this board, talking about Norberto Luis Romero and his Lilliputian publisher, playful and almost always Omphale and non-profit: "The doors of the doer." Handmade object books, acts of love, friendship gifts. Evenings, days, hours spent on thinking Norberto design. Given time to build unique items. Celebration of friendship, declaration of love for literature. Way to give meaning to the word art, a different way of giving meaning to the word book, the word shrine, the word jeweler.
And in a tale of LA Barba Prieto, "The miracle of the holy" dedicated to Daniel Moyano. A tale told by a girl with a star Cadiz Argentina, Eva Peron. A story white and blue. Norberto gift to Los Angeles. Gift of Angels to your friends.
And in the prose of Angels, a story that talks about women and memories. Of life seen through the eyes of a child. The father, home, family, present and wishes to ask the future. A story that has a special day, the kind you never forget and allow us to stumble upon the history that is written in textbooks, the one that keeps the petals of dried flowers, petals of fabric sewn by hand, petals between the pages of a book.
A story that speaks of hunger and odors. Poverty, hunger odor. Of secular miracles. The exceptional and the fortune that has no price. A tribute to Cadiz and their streets, their neighborhoods and their names. Speaking of older sisters, bound women and destination, boyfriends, migration, chance, America. Time, gray future, male domestic aspirations.
A story in which angels speak to me of a rebellious child, other than a girl dressed in Sunday, a day in port for a saint with dyed hair. Anonymous girl and only in a crowd in uniform. Gold and black. White and blue.
A rebellious girl with words stored in their pockets patched. Words, eyes, heart, away from the obvious and apparent. Girl wrest the future expected something different, no material value, not retail price. Women who do not want to look to anyone to copy anyone forget anything, ask anything.
A day of fortune, princesses history without people. Day old free market, offal, and this uncouth embarrassment.
paper one day and smell again. Perfume, fragrance, gift and gratitude. Review
Luis Borrás appeared in his blog "Literary Aragon."
Aragon Maybe I should not make public the private. Perhaps someone will ask "because I care", but can not find another way to show my gratitude. What good is life without emotion or gratitude? And that means talking about this board, talking about Norberto Luis Romero and his Lilliputian publisher, playful and almost always Omphale and non-profit: "The doors of the doer." Handmade object books, acts of love, friendship gifts. Evenings, days, hours spent on thinking Norberto design. Given time to build unique items. Celebration of friendship, declaration of love for literature. Way to give meaning to the word art, a different way of giving meaning to the word book, the word shrine, the word jeweler.
And in a tale of LA Barba Prieto, "The miracle of the holy" dedicated to Daniel Moyano. A tale told by a girl with a star Cadiz Argentina, Eva Peron. A story white and blue. Norberto gift to Los Angeles. Gift of Angels to your friends.
And in the prose of Angels, a story that talks about women and memories. Of life seen through the eyes of a child. The father, home, family, present and wishes to ask the future. A story that has a special day, the kind you never forget and allow us to stumble upon the history that is written in textbooks, the one that keeps the petals of dried flowers, petals of fabric sewn by hand, petals between the pages of a book.
A story that speaks of hunger and odors. Poverty, hunger odor. Of secular miracles. The exceptional and the fortune that has no price. A tribute to Cadiz and their streets, their neighborhoods and their names. Speaking of older sisters, bound women and destination, boyfriends, migration, chance, America. Time, gray future, male domestic aspirations.
A story in which angels speak to me of a rebellious child, other than a girl dressed in Sunday, a day in port for a saint with dyed hair. Anonymous girl and only in a crowd in uniform. Gold and black. White and blue.
A rebellious girl with words stored in their pockets patched. Words, eyes, heart, away from the obvious and apparent. Girl wrest the future expected something different, no material value, not retail price. Women who do not want to look to anyone to copy anyone forget anything, ask anything.
A day of fortune, princesses history without people. Day old free market, offal, and this uncouth embarrassment.
paper one day and smell again. Perfume, fragrance, gift and gratitude. Review
Luis Borrás appeared in his blog "Literary Aragon."
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