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a joke dancing over catastrophes

what I took with me… Koudelka and a four-leaf clover

(my first attempt at bringing my handmade book to the digital world)

To you, my thin red line

Private Witt: [voice over] We were… How’d it break up and come apart, so that now we’re turned against each other? Each standing in the other’s light. How’d we lose that good that was given us? Let it slip away. Scattered it, careless. What’s keepin’ us from reaching out, touching the glory?

Croatia

“In the man I met, I felt a prodigious, ceaseless, restless energy that I suspected he could not turn off if he wanted to. Doing one thing, he seemed already to be thinking about the next, or the thing after that. At rest, he seemed to be moving more quickly than most people when running. My feeling was that he was not precisely a good listener but might, in his self-directed way, be a good absorber of information.”

I AND YOU

Yes, I come from another country,
To your world I can never belong.
Tinkling guitars cannot please me,
I want a wild desolate song.

I do not read my verses in drawing-rooms
To black-coats and dresses like shrouds.
I read my verses to dragons,
To the waterfalls and to the clouds.

I love like an Arab in the desert 
Who flings himself on water and drinks,
Not like a knight in a picture
Who looks at the stars and thinks.

I shall not die in a bedroom
With a priest and a lawyer beside me. 
I shall perish in a terrible ravine 
With a mass of wild ivy to hide me.

I shall not go to a Protestant heaven,
Open to all in tidy blue skies,
But to a place where thief and publican
And harlot will cry: 'Friend, arise!'

Nikolai Gumilev
Trans. V. De S. Pinto

Barcelona 2007

my work from SPEOS Paris 2003

Summer in Italy

Trafalgar Square