Today Is The Tomorrow You Were Promised Yesterday
Posted: April 12, 2014 Filed under: Art, Photography, Poetry, Prose, Writing | Tags: 1976, 70s, artist, british, conceptual, conceptual art, England, image and text, sea, Sheffield, today, tomorrow, victor burgin, writer, yesterday Leave a commentThe early morning mist dissolves. And the sun shines on the Pacific. You stand like Balboa the Conquistador. On the cliff top. Among the last of the Monterey Cypress trees. The old whaler’s hut is abandoned now. But whales still swim through the wild waves. Sea otters float on the calmer waters. Cracking abalone shells on their chest. Humming birds take nectar from the red hibiscus. Pelicans splash lazily in the surf. Wander down a winding path. Onto gentle sands. Ocean crystal clear. Sea anemones. Turquoise waters. Total immersion. Ecstasy.
Rising Sun
Posted: December 31, 2013 Filed under: Art, Painting/Drawing | Tags: 1976, 70s, Giorgio de Chirico, Greece, Italy, plaza, rising sun, statue, sun Leave a commentEntre Dos Aguas
Posted: November 15, 2013 Filed under: Music | Tags: 1976, 70s, Entre Dos Aguas, flamenco, guitar, music, Paco de Lucia, rumba, Spain, water Leave a commentA beautiful song by Flamenco artist Paco de Lucía:
The Labyrinth
Posted: October 22, 2013 Filed under: Art, Poetry, Writing | Tags: 1976, 70s, Argentina, Borges, Gods, Joe Tilson, Jorge Luis Borges, labyrinth, latin american literature, life, lost, maze, path, Zeus 2 CommentsBy Jorge Luis Borges
(Translated by Stephen Kessler)
Zeus himself could not undo the web
of stone closing around me. I have forgotten
the men I was before; I follow the hated
path of monotonous walls
that is my destiny. Severe galleries
which curve in secret circles
to the end of the years. Parapets
cracked by the days’ usury.
In the pale dust I have discerned
signs that frighten me. In the concave
evenings the air has carried a roar
toward me, or the echo of a desolate howl.
I know there is an Other in the shadows,
whose fate it is to wear out the long solitudes
which weave and unweave this Hades
and to long for my blood and devour my death.
Each of us seeks the other. If only this
were the final day of waiting.