Angelo Testa, drawing for a textile design, 1950s. Chicago, USA. Via Cooper Hewitt
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Angelo Testa, drawing for a textile design, 1950s. Chicago, USA. Via Cooper Hewitt
Piet Zwart - Untitled, ca. 1934
Will Barnet (May 25, 1911 – November 13, 2012)
Los hombres sin historia tienen un alma dispersa. Sin memoria y sin proyecto, están sometidos al presente como un drogadicto que sólo es feliz en el relámpago de lo inmediato. Cuando uno no tiene memoria se transforma en nadie y cuando uno teme a su pasado se deja atrapar por su sombra.
Boris Cyrulnik
The Game Of Marseille , 1. Tarot playing cards by Andre Breton, Rene Char, Oscar Dominguez, Victor Brauner, Max Ernst, Jacques Herold, Wilfredo Lam, Andre Masson, Benjamin Peret. 1940-41
Wenda Parkinson in South Africa Vogue 1951 by Norman Parkinson
Watercolor by Katarzyna Jaśkiewicz
Brenda Cablayan
(via The Jealous Curator)
Nubes
Jorge Luis Borges No habrá una sola cosa que no sea
una nube. Lo son las catedrales
de vasta piedra y bíblicos cristales
que el tiempo allanará. Lo es la Odisea.
que cambia como el mar. Algo hay destino
cada vez que la abrimos. El reflejo
de tu cara ya es otro en el espejo
y el día es un dudoso laberinto.
Somos los que se van. La numerosa
nube que se deshace en el poniente
es nuestra imagem. Incesantemente
la rosa se convierte en otra rosa.
Eres nube. Eres mar, eres olvido.
Eres tambien aquello que has perdido.
Iakov Chernikhov, Suprematist Composition (1922)
Serie “Face Farces” by Arnulf Rainer
Praying
Tato Laviera papá dios está agallao, ya no puede soportar
los “puerto ricans” están orando overtime
no dejamos dormir a dios, está volviéndose loco
con las comiquerías de nosotros, siempre chavándole
la vida, papá dios está prendío, los “puerto ricans”
están “overloading the circuits with numerous requests”
te lo juro, créemelo, yo te lo advertí, lo escribí,
papá dios está enfogonao, deme esto, consígame
aquello, dele luz a mi vida, la com puta dora
tiene corto circuito, las operadoras “complaining”
a la supervisora, “qué diablo’ hablan esas viejas,
rezan el rosario, murmurando como hormigas, their
spanish is unintelligible, they pray too fast”
dios-te-salve-maría-llena-eres-de-padre-nuestro-
gloria-al-padre-y-a-las-galletitas-y-el-chocolate-
caliente-amén, we don’t understand.
the angels brought a lawsuit to the supreme
court of heaven, protesting puerto rican prayers
“we cannot pick up their signals, them puerto rican
ladies, they pray non-stop, when they pray, they
pray for everybody, their prayers are over-
flowing their allotted time, and it’s working
against you, papá dios, we cannot answer their
prayers, they must be wondering, ‘how come papá
dios does not reply?’ they are taking over
the english channels, we cannot identify the items,
judge strictly for yourself, look at this daily sample,
just those pentecostals alone are driving the holy
spirit insane, all they want is transformations,
transformations, we’re not coming down on them
puerto rican bodies, those crazy people are praying
themselves into our jobs, all they want are crazy
indian angels to come down, to assist some crazy
spiritualist, and we don’t understand those native
dialects, papá dios, please change the laws.”
[p. 73] papá dios got up and said … “Bendito, they work so
hard, bendito, they are so passive, i never get
angry with my worthy faithful subjects, it is
just that some crazy puerto rican poet is misinforming
the people, i’m not enfogonao,” papá dios ordered
a new computerized system to solve the inundation
problem, but papá dios said to please tell them
puerto ricans that he’ll listen to their every
desire, if they will give papá dios un brakecito,
concho, “y déjenme dormir. De vez en cuando
duerman ustedes, por favor.”
Woolf
It is from this view-point that we must interpret the fact that in young, independent countries, here and there federalism triumphs. We know that colonial domination has marked certain regions out for privilege. The colony’s economy is not integrated into that of the nation as a whole. It is still organized in order to complete the economy of the different mother countries. Colonialism hardly ever exploits the whole of a country. It contents itself with bringing to light the natural resources, which it extracts, and exports to meet the needs of the mother country’s industries, thereby allowing certain sectors of the colony to become relatively rich. But the rest of the colony follows its path of under-development and poverty, or at all events sinks into it more deeply.
Frantz Fanon, The Pitfalls of National Consciousness (via hr-stasistuff)
Oda a la edad
Yo no creo en la edad. Todos los viejos... llevan en los ojos un niño, y los niños a veces nos observan como ancianos profundos. Mediremos la vida por metros o kilómetros o meses? Tanto desde que naces? Cuanto debes andar hasta que como todos en vez de caminarla por encima descansemos, debajo de la tierra? Al hombre, a la mujer que consumaron acciones, bondad, fuerza, cólera, amor, ternura, a los que verdaderamente vivos florecieron y en su naturaleza maduraron, no acerquemos nosotros la medida del tiempo que tal vez es otra cosa, un manto mineral, un ave planetaria, una flor, otra cosa tal vez, pero no una medida. Tiempo, metal o pájaro, flor de largo pecíolo, extiéndete a lo largo de los hombres, florécelos y lávalos con agua abierta o con sol escondido. Te proclamo camino y no mortaja, escala pura con peldaños de aire, traje sinceramente renovado por longitudinales primaveras. Ahora, tiempo, te enrollo, te deposito en mi caja silvestre y me voy a pescar con tu hilo largo los peces de la aurora! Pablo Neruda
Germaine Krull
Painter in Rue St Julien-le-Pauvre, Paris, 1928