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Me and a frog (August 30, 2004)

READIN

Jeremy's journal

Lo primordial, hermanos míos, no es nuestro sufrimiento, sino cómo lo llevamos a lo largo de la vía.

el Cristo de Elqui


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Friday, September 6th, 2013

posted evening of September 6th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Pretty Pictures

🦋 What does the fox say?

What a gorgeous video.

posted evening of September 6th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Music

Tuesday, September third, 2013

🦋 Sangre en el Ojo

Reading some notes from a while back I happened on the name of Lina Meruane, a Chilean author, and a recent book of hers. Sangre en el Ojo is a memoir (fictionalized, I don't know to what extent — what I've been able to find online suggests that Dr. Meruane, who teaches at NYU, does have juvenile diabetes; but this is presented as a work of fiction, so I'm taking the Lina Meruane who is the book's main character as a distinct person from the Lina Meruane who wrote it) of losing her vision from hemorrhage caused by diabetes. The story is set in New York and Santiago de Chile, we meet Lina (a graduate student, if I've understood correctly) in 2001 just as she begins to lose her vision; the first chapters have some mesmerizing descriptions of looking at the bleeding in her eyes.

posted evening of September third, 2013: 1 response
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Monday, September second, 2013

🦋 Unos borredores

En las últimas semanas he escrito mucho de la forma poética (si todavía muy desordenado), en ambas idiomas. Aquí unos borredores crípticos.

Ibamos muy despacio en busca
del parking tú y yo
esta noche en que me has dicho
como creyeras
que se haya cambiado cosa importante
entre nosotros
en días recientes
¿cuándo vas a entender, Carlos? he dicho
Nunca he podido resistir...
Suspiras solamente y con mirada colérica
te vuelves a la calle
Navegamos callados y tú caes
otra vez consumido
por la negrura

A través de un momento que no coresponde
a ninguna cantidad temporal—
ya has perdido toda
expectación de la secuencia y todo interés
en nombrar los tensos sutiles
de los eventos que forman
tu vida, tu vida
todavía que merece esta nombre

Y te encuentras viviendo en el pecho
y cerebro de Manuel que se marcha
en las huestes de Pizarro
andas caminos angostos y peligrosos
por la cordillera. Despiertes
en medio paso tu memoria llena
solamente del recuerdo de la marcha
Los gritos de tus compañeros
te aporrean a las orejas. Están
ambuscados. En la oscuridad
ves a tu brazo, se mueve
como poseído
saca la espada y me corta
y se fluye la sangre
no más de éso puedes soportar y no más ves
porque los dedos negros y vacíos del tiempo
tu cabeza herida
han atrapado, y no ves nada.

posted afternoon of September second, 2013: 1 response
➳ More posts about Poetry

Sunday, September first, 2013

🦋 Some rough drafts

I have been writing a lot of poetry lately, much of which has not really taken any shape yet, in both English and Spanish. Here are a couple passages in English that seem worth expanding on.


Act out this savage pantomime
in the distance
crickets
in the distance
the voices of your
subjunctive
saviors
and you stumble thru the steps
of some long forgotten scene
of some brutally ironic
forgotten scene.

and sometimes it can help to be brutally honest
to tell the truth I mean
and to deceive
deceive with honesty
so to speak
deceive with savage apathy
passivity
liquidity and self-congratulation:
conflating
to seed the pastures
of some chaotic Babylon
imagined.

and the insect hum behind the melody
pervasive rhythmic ambiance
Not a form of beauty but of void, this binary
now, so what--
Void is imperceptible when it's cloaked in a mask of being
Void here should be taken to mean Nullity
and our Reality/ is riddled through
is torn asunder by infinite
void and void and voids/ impossible
to pluralize this empty heart
of being.

and the minutes are like hours, like idle, carefree hours
forgotten as they pass.
Forgotten as the second hand
ticks by on some imagined sundial
as streams/ evaporate
into desert
as protostellar nuclei condense
volcanic
intrinsic to our nature/ even
as the void repulses us
¶ and the insect hum behind the melody pervasive
and basic to nature
intrinsic
to meaning.

to say the minutes pass like hours predictable creeping by
o verminous horde, to say
to say you've said all this before, to call the riddle
meaningless and petty
To get behind the riddle to its source, to its creator/
interact for God's sake
and call it growth, and chalk it up
to destiny

so sliding frame by frame by
these episodes and episodic memories
of our ill-spent youths

and current circumstances

different pathways and strands of meaning surround you
encroach on your experience of the moment
your sense of reality
so to speak
you've come unstuck in time and out of luck
so walk your pilgrim's path
so celebrate your misfortune
grin
at the indeterminate slices
of subjunctive structure
that enframe you.

posted evening of September first, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Writing Projects

Saturday, August 31st, 2013

🦋 Let's listen to

Ashokan Farewell.



You're welcome.

posted evening of August 31st, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Fiddling

Tuesday, August 27th, 2013

🦋 Las Meninas -- story & painting

My reaction to J. Sáez de Ibarra's "Las Meninas" on the first few readings was one of excitement and confusion. The first section -- "Bocetos/Sketches", which makes up the body of the story -- is gripping and interesting, but has no resolution; the second section, "Las Meninas" is just a page. It appears to be the character Juan Felipe describing the positions of all the members of the household in the photo which was soon to be taken at the end of the first section, and which is reproduced very unclearly on the facing page; under which appears a subtitle listing the figures represented, but by different names. Confusing. The key, as it took me a long time to figure out, is the "photo" -- it is a print of Diego Velázquez' painting "Las Meninas" (1656), a portrait of king Juan Felipe IV's household. The painting is the centerpiece of the story -- "Bocetos" is serving to set up the characters who appear in the painting -- which is for the purposes of the story not a 1656 painting but a photograph of a contemporary celebrity's household. Accepting all this requires some pretty twisted suspension of disbelief -- eg it is kind of difficult to accept the dwarfs Nicolás Pertusso and hydrocephalic Maria Bárbola as Juan Felipe's adolescent son and the prostitute with whom he spent the night -- and adds a new dimension to the story, completes it.

posted evening of August 27th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Mirar al agua

Monday, August 26th, 2013

🦋 The Meninas

posted evening of August 26th, 2013: 1 response

Saturday, August 24th, 2013

🦋 At Howell Farm

I cranked out a couple tunes at the NJ Fiddle Contest at Howel Farm. (to wit, Halting March and The Rd to Lisdoonvarna) -- My strategy of practicing everything a shade slower than it should be performed has really paid off.

(On the other hand, of course, I realize now that I've been recording these songs at practice speed rather than performance -- I should record a new version of the Halting tape.)

posted evening of August 24th, 2013: 1 response
➳ More posts about the Family Album

Sunday, August 18th, 2013

🦋 Stories in Mirar al agua: cuentos plasticos por J. Sáez de Ibarra

Occasionally in the past I've blogged about books that I come to with no idea at all in advance, what to expect. Sáez de Ibarra's Mirar al agua is one such. I first came upon the author's name and the title a few weeks ago when Marta Aponte recommended it. This is always a fun way to read, completely free of expectations.

The first couple of stories I've so far just skimmed the first lines of, not found much of anything to draw me in. "Las Meninas" (left) I find fascinating, a story told entirely in dialog, extremely fast-pased. I find it renders very nicely in English. "Una ventana en Via Spermazella" and the next few stories seem very interesting but have not been quite able to crack the code that will get me into the stories. Especially intriguing among these is "La Poesía del Objeto."

"La superstición de Narciso" is just spellbinding. More experimental than anything else thus far. "Escribir Mientras Palestina" (which I'm midway into now) is a nicely engaging piece of first-person narrative about a visit to Palestine.

posted morning of August 18th, 2013: Respond
➳ More posts about Translation

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