Lo creativo. El cielo

En contacto profundo con una estrella cósmica,
en momentos clave me ilumina y me mueve a actuar en forma adecuada.
Eternamente agradecida.

Estrella de cuatro puntas cardinales. A saber:
el amor que eleva y conecta con lo profundo
la ética que propicia su logro
la justeza de lo que corresponde
la sabiduría que crea estados duraderos

Las nubes pasan y actúa la lluvia y afluyen todos los seres,
introduciéndose en sus formas.

The old dirty lonely color Remington

                                                                     

“One is the loneliest number.That you´ll ever do.

Two, can be as bad as one, it´s the loneliest number since the number one”.

One, written by Harry Nilsson.

That day, she knew it.

Last time she had felt badly. She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t eat anything. She had smoked a lot of cigarettes. She felt a deep anguish inside herself. Who was she? She couldn’t stop asking this question.

Where is the smart pretty girl, whose parents had said about her “she was born speaking”? She couldn’t find her. She had been a funny girl. She had been interested in different things. She could enjoy her life intensely. Her childhood had been a wonderful world where she could find everything she wanted. She still remembered her old bedroom, her private world. There, everything was possible. It was full of little dolls. She spent a long time playing with them, imagining her future. She was going to marry a handsome man when she would be twenty four; she was going to have two children; a nice house. She was going to have a wonderful life when she got older… Her dolls…Where had she left them? Where had she left everything she had loved? She didn’t know.

Now she enjoyed keeping in silence. A lot of things had happened during her life. Whoever had known her in another time, couldn’t recognize her. Later she couldn’t do it either. Time went by, then she had changed. She didn’t have her usual laugh anymore. Still she went on being a very sensible person. But, of course, she had a different look on her face. What kind of look? She couldn’t be sure about it. One day her life had been cut. Never ever could she turn back to the past time. Something important from her had been lost, definitely. She couldn’t be sure about the meaning of her lost either. She couldn’t find words to explain it. Words had got rid of her. She would have to do without them. Her dumb mind was in charge of her life. She couldn’t even reach a word to say about her feelings.

That day she had gone to shopping, but she could never buy anything such kind of days. She had spent her time walking along the streets looking for something she didn’t know what really was. She looked as if she needed an unknown thing. She kept in silence, alone. She couldn’t even realize what she was thinking about. Different images were passing around her mind. She felt so confused. It was a rainy afternoon. The sky was full of deep clouds. The atmosphere inside her soul was deeper than it was outside. She came in a little store. If she had found something, she would have bought it. But nothing had been ready made for her. She went on walking under the storm. She was going through one indeed. She was beginning to feel wet. Maybe she could clean her own hurts in this way. Could she? Unaware of everything she met herself walking back home.

She got home and looked for something to do. She couldn’t find anything.

In spite of her intention, nothing changed. She was over. She was giving in. She was feeling alone, and she really was. The flat was in a complete silence. It seemed as if everything there were dead. Everything was in the same place she had left it, like objects in a museum. Her own life had become like one. Everything was as tidied up as without life. The wooden floor with its white carpet showed it enough. In spite of the pure color it kept so clean…The purple curtain had lost its brightness. The bookcase was full of different books she had never read once. It was dark there. She turned the table lamp on. The yellow bulb covered everything with its light. Then everything seemed to be in a sepia picture. It could have been a very old picture if she hadn’t been in it.

The old Remington was as dirty as the desk where it was. She had kept as far as possible from it. She had it since she was a kid. In those days she used to write about her feelings. She could travel through different worlds. She could go out of her own life. She had done it for a long time until that day, when everything changed in her life. Since then, she had never used it anymore. She had left it alone.

She would never know why she sat in front of it. She began to write her feelings down. She spent a couple of hours writing. The white page wasn’t there any longer. Had it been there anytime? It had vanished. She felt surprised when she found it out. How had these unexpected words showed up on the surface- page? Where had they been before? Had they been there waiting for a discovery? Or, maybe they had not existed until they had been created. She didn’t know anything about their existence. Nevertheless she could meet herself among them. Not in a complete way. She was meeting with a dark side of herself. She had not any knowledge about it until that moment. How freak! She couldn’t understand what had happened.

Afterwards she felt better. The light had begun to change slowly. The colors inside too.
She had got rid of her confused images. She had put her anguish away.
She knew it that day. Words could become something different.
Luckily.

Vos que eres sol, despacio también podés hallar la luna

...qué calor hará sin vos en verano...
... mis momentos seguirán impregnados de tu poesía...

¡¡¡¡Muchas Gracias!!!!

Walking

What do you want?, she asks suddenly.

She looks cute with her blue pants. Surely she is coming back home. I don’t know why, but she seems as if she had ended with something. Maybe she had a very hard day and now she is thinking to take a rest. She is on, besides the pants she is wearing a blue coat, both go pretty together, and large green boots which go up to her knees. She isn’t too much tall, but some kind of elegance covers her walking. Her name is Lily, i can see it on a stamp that is on her brown leather handbag.

Even though i can’t see her eyes, her face either, i’m sure she is looking at the floor. The way in which her head is, can insinuate it. Or maybe she is watching her green boots. They are amazing! The way in which she moves them as well. First the right foot, now the left one. And so on. This is the way in which she walks. Nothing particularly different from others except the way in which she puts her feet on and she takes them out. I believe most people use to put their feet entirely, as if they were pretending to leave their own footprints on the sidewalk. She, instead, puts her toes before the rest of her feet as a ballet dancer who is making a great performance. She is sure of her way. She goes on walking in this way until she stops in front of a glass-window. It’s a common store where some clothes are shown. It doesn’t seem her style to wear. The clothes that someone can find in that kind of store are as common as boring. Is she looking for a gift? It doesn’t seem either. In reality it seems as if she were looking at her own image through the glasses. Yes, behind the sunglasses she has put on she is looking at herself. Maybe she isn’t coming back home. Maybe she is going to somewhere to meet someone. I don’t know. Nevertheless she hasn’t watched the time not even once. If someone were waiting for her she should be worried about time. It isn’t the case, evidently. Or maybe she is sure the one is going to wait, despite her delay.

I would like to be the person who is waiting for her. I would like to meet her. She looks like a good mix of beauty and intelligence. I never had the opportunity to know a woman like her. Always the same kind of women, looking for a serious relationship in spite of their non serious minds. Easy women, complicate women, nice women and awful women. Despite their differences, at last all of them proved the same. All of them wanted the same. Family, kids, home, fidelity, etc. Never did they think about what I wanted. I tried to explain through different ways what I wanted. Anyway, nobody was interested in that. I tried to find the way in which they could understand me. I used slight manners to show what I needed. Slight manners, slight words, a slight world where my whishes could be listened. But, how were that kind of simple women going to understand my non simple message? Evidently it wasn’t possible. So, the story was a lot of wrong meetings in which i tried to reach something better for me without finding it.

She, instead, seems to be that kind of woman who can understand me. I’m sure that if I had the opportunity she would be the right person. Oh! What is she doing now? Her feet seem doubtful. It seems as if they were trying to change the way. Has she mistaken the road? They are turning round. She is turning round. Now i can see her mouth opening. A few words are going out from there. It is asking something…something like “what do you want?”

Suddenly i feel sick. The world is going around my head quickly. I believe i’m going to fall down over the floor. A lot of shine color lights are covering my eyes. I can’t see anything else but i can already feel her presence. She is waiting for my answer. In spite of my sickness i’ m doing a great effort to give her an answer. At last i reach a word…

Nothing, i mumble.



Why has Lily forgotten her handbag? I know she needs it a lot. She told me that, and just in case she phoned me to ask me if i could take it to her home. I said i didn’t have any trouble to do that. So, now she is waiting for her handbag at home. And, it is right. Everything is right, except these fucking boots. I can’t believe they can be so uncomfortable. How could i buy them? I remember that afternoon when i did it. It was the beginning of the last winter. As always i didn’t have anything to put on, neither sweaters nor boots. Always the same thing happens. When a new season begins i find my closet as empty as i had never bought any clothes in all my life. When it happens i use to become desperate, and i get away looking for something to wear. That afternoon was the first cold one of last winter. I had thought to take my time to find new boots. So, i took my credit card and went to shopping. At first all my attention was focused on boots but some time later i didn’t know what i was looking for anymore. My sight was lost and also the afternoon. When i realized it i began to turn nervous. I knew i needed to buy winter clothes, specially boots. I remember i thought to come back home without buying anything. And then i came across them. I came in the store and asked to try them on. They were my foot size number and they had a strange green color that i found cool. Besides, they weren’t so expensive. Whatever, i bought them without any doubt. I never thought they could be so terrifying.

And now i’ m walking having them on my feet and i can’t think another thing rather than to take them out. I can’t put up with them. The only thing i want is to come back home and to have my feet bare. Nevertheless i have to walk up to Lily’s to turn her handbag back to her.

When i left the office i thought to take a taxi but i couldn’t find any. The street seems a great jungle. Everybody looks to be in hurry. Walkers and cars everywhere. I’m not in a hurry but it seems as if i were being pushed by the current. I should stop just a minute, or maybe a little more. It would be great for my feet.

Is there someone following me? I can’t be sure but I feel like a shadow behind me. Since three blocks ago i can feel it. Is that man who is standing a few meters behind me the person I feel? I can see his face on the glasses, he looks as if he were looking at nothing. He doesn’t seem waiting for anything. He doesn’t seem interested in anything either. No, it can’t be possible. He doesn’t look like this kind of man. He looks satisfied with his life. He should be a good father and also a good husband. He should have a good job, surely he works as a doctor. He has the doctor’s security even in the way he looks at nothing. I guess his family weekend, playing with the children, enjoying the company of his wife. She should be this kind of woman who would never buy boots like these. These fucking boots! I’d better go on my walking before Lily gets angry with me.

Even though i can’t be sure, i already feel that someone is following my way. Maybe it’s just a coincidence. I don’t know. What would it happen if i turned myself round? What would i find? Am i going to keep the doubt? Is it the meaning of life, going everytime right without turning round? I don’t really know what to do.

Now the shadow is coming close to me. I can see it almost in front of my sight. If i wanted i could step on it with my boots. I have to do something, I don’t want to step on it. I can’t put up with it. I have to turn round.

I can see its expression and at the same time i can’t see the shadow anymore. It has disappeared. In front of me the man who looked like a doctor is. Now he looks different. It seems as if he were anxious. Although it doesn’t seem so, he is shaking, slightly. I try to find his eyes but i can’t. It seems as if they were lost on a further thing that i can’t see, as if they were looking for something that isn’t in the place it was supposed to.



Beginning of winter. Some clouds are moving around the sky. The sun is still shining. 5:30 PM. A cold wind begins to move the leaves of the trees. The street is full of people. People walking, people driving, people everywhere. Many of them have left their common occupation until next day. It could be possible that some of them never come back there in spite of the fact that they don’t know anything about that. Not even do they think in it. Surely they said “till tomorrow” without consciousness that it can be the last time to say it. Whatever, they only think to go on with their lives.

I don’t know the real reason, but among the crowd my eyes are staring at a woman who is walking quickly. I would like to ask her why she is wearing these uncomfortable green boots. I would prefer another kind of character, someone a bit special, for instance she could take the boots off and go on her road just on her naked feet. It would be an interesting situation for a tale. But she doesn’t do that. She insists on ending the action in the same way she has begun it. What can I do? May I change anything about her decision?.

The another one, the man, i don’t know what’s up with him. He is a little peculiar. In some sense he seems a little freak. What is he doing following a strange woman? What does he want with such attitude? He is complaining about his bad luck as if he had nothing to do with it.

I don’t know why i chose these characters. Even more, i can’t find the way to get on with them. I would like to have a brief exchange with both. But i think it will never happen. While i wonder about this kind of things, i am also following them through the city. We have walked three or four blocks, i can’t be sure. We look like a row, first the woman, one meter back the man, and after him, here i am.

The sun begins to fall down all over the street. Some little shadows begin to appear. They will rise soon and the city will be full of them.

Everything goes on just like this until something unexpected happens. After they go across the next block, the streetlight changes its color, and with the red color in front of me i have to stop to wait green. I’m afraid of losing them. Suddenly i become anxious. It seems as if time were passing slowly. Green color again. Luckily they aren’t very far. The woman is looking at a glass window. I don’t know what she is looking for. The man is already in his position. I have time to turn back to mine. All of us are standing without doing anything until the walking begins again. However i feel something has changed. The man is focused on the floor. The last block he hasn’t stared at another thing. She, instead, seems to be thinking about something. Despite her effort in faking it, I think she realized that someone is following her. Evidently. It seems as if she were pretending to turn herself round. What is she going to do now? Is she going to face him? What is she going to say when she finds him in front of her sight? Has she forgotten Lily is waiting for her handbag? She doesn’t have time to stop her walking. Nevertheless she is doing it. It’s too late to change the stuff.

6 PM Some weak sunlights can be still seen. Sooner or later night is going to appear. It begins to be cold. The shadows have disappeared. So have they.

Chi Chi/ Después de la consumación

Para finalizar, todavía se añade aquí una advertencia. Después de atravesar las aguas, sólo se le puede a uno hundir la cabeza cuando con frivolidad vuelve a dirigirse hacia el agua. Mientras uno marcha hacia adelante sin mirar atrás, se salva uno del peligro. Pero hay cierta atracción seductora en el deseo de detenerse para mirar hacia atrás y contemplar el peligro superado. Lo cierto es que semejante vanidosa autocontemplación, como en un espejo, no aporta ninguna dicha. Esto sólo conduce al peligro y si uno no se decide a tiempo a avanzar incesantemente hacia adelante, será víctima de ese peligro.


arriba, K´an, Lo abismal, el agua
abajo Li, Lo adherente, el fuego
del I ching



¡¡¡Muy Feliz 2012!!!

Mr. hard heart

Mr. Duke Dick, DD as everyone used to call him, was smoking nervously in the hall when Dr. Tass came in and told him everything was all right. He had stopped smoking since last year when he had decided to put an end with his agitated way of life. His wife had been happy with his decision, at last “they could enjoy their life together and live as a family”. She had dreamed with the white dress, the house with the backyard, the plants, the dog and kids. Nothing had gone in this way. He had spent most of his time and also his money emptying gin bottles. At the end, he had lost his strength. His life was a complete mess. Work and friends seemed to be vanished. And, last but not least, Sondra was meeting someone else. Like a great magician, he turned his life down to up. Three months later the new was announced. Sondra was pregnant.

“The mother and the boy are perfectly well, in a few minutes you will be able to see them. Yes, take it easy, everything is ok now. But, well, you know, there is something else i want to tell you. How can i do it? Oh, let me see…I told you, both are very well but there is something…I don’t know…I had read it on some special medical books but i had never seen a case directly…Your boy…has a peculiar condition…anyway…his heart is harder than usual…it is a very peculiar condition, nothing specially alarming except a peculiar detail on it which is called HHS, Hard Heart Syndrome added the doctor pretending to be more especific . And, what does it mean?, Mr. DD mumbled. Nothing particularly important except that his heart would not suffer a lot from difficult circumstances, Dr. Tass explained.

So, it was like that. In spite of that fact, firstly Mr. and Mrs. Dick took care of the baby with a lot of dedication, but when time began to go by, they turned more confident and relaxed. At the age of four he could remain alone in a dark room with no signal of excitation until someone appeared. He had no anguish at any kind of animals or ghosts. Maybe because of his condition or just by chance, the boy hadn’t suffered any kind of illness or accident. His life went on and he grew up living as if his body were in a pressure box. He had witnessed tremendous circumstances and his heart had always pounding in the same way. He could be in danger or he could be in an easy situation. He could be afraid of something or he could feel in peace. He could feel worried about something or he could feel in calm. Whatever he felt, his heart went on in the same constant rhythm. He was absolutely sure he wasn’t going to die from a heart attack. His heart was so hard and strong, so impermeable at every kind of different circumstances that nothing could happen to it.

Nevertheless he didn’t feel like a lucky man. He perfectly knew his life had been full of cut endings. His heart could be strong, but his mind couldn’t be that. He had a lot of bad memories which used to visit him again and again. He wished to find the way in which he could get rid of them. They were awful images, but he couldn’t have feelings according to them. They were images without feelings. Many times he had blamed himself for being a man who didn’t have a good heart. But, it wasn’t the case. He had a good one, a bit peculiar, but anyway, it wasn’t so bad.

He still remembered when his puppy was crashed by a car. That noon he had come back home walking without any sign of agitation or something like that. Despite the absent feelings, the scene was recorded in his mind. Something similar happened many years later, when he met Silly, his ex, having sex with his best friend. He had never felt any shift in the way in which his heart pounded. However he had thought to kill him.

Dr. Tass was right, he had an unbelievable hard heart.

He was thinking about this story while he was turned in bed. For the last two weeks he had kept there. Since then he didn’t wash his face, didn’t put clean clothes, didn’t eat anything else except what was staying at home, and he only went out of bed when he felt his body cramped. The last cigarette had gone some days before. He kept there with no willing at all, focused on his poundings, checking their monotony. Deep in his mind it seemed to be unexpected.

I don’t want to live with you anymore, she had said. I don’t want this kind of life. It’s enough, she had explained. I hate you! You are the best selfish I ever met. You, piece of ice. I’m going to leave you, i want to know nothing about you, you are so insensible, she had shouted while talking the luggage she had prepared the night before. Those had been the last words he had heard coming from her since she had gone out of his life.

And now, Mr. Hard Heart, DD JR as everyone used to call him, was in bed, trying to understand what had happened. How could she treat him in that way? What does it mean? Every word she had told him is wrong. Specially “piece of ice”, of course.

Something (serious) to say

What time is it? It is around seven p.m. Two people are sitting in a bar. A woman and a man. Obviously. They are looking for something, waiting, alone. They keep in silence, watching nothing except the clock which is on the wall. They haven’t been there for a long time. Nevertheless they have been watching the time again and again. They are waiting for something, evidently. Both are smoking, but in a different way. The man takes the last cigarette from the empty box and lits it up with a match. He smokes calmly, taking care when it’s time to throw the ash. A cup of coffee is near the ashtray, he is going to drink it soon. He looks very manly with his clean clothes. Black jacket and pant, Armani’s sunglasses. Does he have a date? For sure he has an important one. In spite of his calm manners he is looking at the clock anxiously.

The woman looks into her handbag. She takes her Marlboro’s, tears the cover, and lits one with a golden lighter. She is doing it in a wrong way. She doesn’t realize it until she feels a bad taste in her mouth. She throws it immediately and lits another one. This time she watches it out to do it in the right way. What is she thinking about? She seems as if she were worried about something. She has a lot of papers on the table which she has been reading and she is tidying them up. She looks pretty tired. Perhaps she is over about those papers, or maybe she is over about her own life. It’s difficult to say what is really happening with her. She keeps facing the time.

Suddenly, at the same time, both get up and go to the door. They have decided to stop waiting, evidently. They go on watching nothing. They realize it when they run into each other. Then the papers are laying on the floor. So is the man. Some of them are under his back. Everything is fallen. The woman begins to pick her papers up. She has to turn him over to pick the rest. They are so dirty. With all the papers in her hand, she goes on her way while he begins to stand up, carefully.

I liked a lot that woman. I knew her some years ago while i was trying to deal with my life. I was a little elder than her, however she looked very young. At first i had looked up her face, but when time began to go by i had found out more than that. She was that kind of woman who was difficult to meet. Even more, she was completely different than my old wife. We had been married during six years, luckily no kids. The first month together everything had been okay. During those days we had spent a funny time, having sex almost every time, without any words about themselves. Everything went on the right way. She began to spend more time in my home, to leave some clothes there, and, when the first month was ending we were living together. The first day after the first month we began to talk. That day, the troubles showed up immediately. Nevertheless we remained other five years and eleven months trying to get rid of them. I couldn’t understand what kind of troubles we had really had. Besides, i could never understand why i had kept living with her. And, of course, vice versa. We shouldn’t have talked. That had been the solution. But, as always, it had not been possible. So, our issues went on rising until that day when i found himself with an empty bottle in my hand, trying to throw it on her. I had stopped myself just in time. The end was easy. Without any word she had taken all her things, called a taxi, and vanished forever. Firstly, i had to admit, i had rarely missed her. I met myself alone again and i didn’t know how to deal with the new situation. After some days i felt he began to come round. Loneliness could be an interesting way of life. For that period i saw her for the first time. We met each other and began to be friends. We used to talk about work, music, movies and that kind of things that people use to talk when they are just meeting themselves.

I enjoyed her company and i began to feel that body-sensation that men use to feel when they are in front of an amazing woman. What could i do? She didn’t seem to have the same feelings than me. Surely she never watched out a man like me. I had just decided to take her as a friend when, last week, she told me she had something serious to say to me. What does she want to tell me about? Thinking about it, i put clean clothes on and went to the bar where we had to meet each other.

Where have i left the papers? I can´t find them. I really need these papers where everything is explained. I could tell him about the matter, but writing-word has more value. I know it. With papers everything will turn easy. Where are they? Yes, they are in my handbag. I have put them there not to forget them. Is everything there? I have my cigarettes, my lighter, money, my lipstick, and of course some tissues just in case. I am ready. I have to do it because i told him i had something serious to say. He wants to know about it, surely. Maybe he suspects something. Never mind. i have to go to the bar and to tell him everything. I have been waiting for the right time, but it has never happened. I have kept in silence, enjoying his company, dying for love. I had to change the situation in some way. He is the man who I have always dreamt with. Never ever would i find someone like him. I wanted he had invited me to go to somewhere. But he didn´t say the first word. So, i had to do it instead. I have invited him to drink a coffee one day. And today is this day. At last my secret feelings will going to show up. How am i gonna to begin the talking? What am i gonna to say? I have rehearsed the scene many times. I have read the papers so many times that i am be able to repeat the exact words without reading. Still i need them. I am afraid of forgetting something…I am afraid of a lot of things. How do i look? It´s ok. Time was over.

It was an autumn Friday evening. It was beginning to be cold. The clouds were moving by the sky, changing the light. The sun began to disappear among them. There were many people in the street. Many of them were coming back home after a hard work’s week. Their faces looked very tired. It seemed as if everybody were in his own mind, alone. Perhaps many of them were suffering from loneliness. Perhaps when they were at home they would imagine to look for someone else, to join with somebody. However they went on walking without paying attention to the others. They looked busy. So did the street. Some people came in the bar before going on with their ways. The bar had its customers. Inside it the landscape was a little different. The noises weren’t so loud and nobody looked very hurried. Some kind of different expectations were there going around. There was a group of middle aged women near the window, who were drinking tea, talking and laughing; some couples of people were talking seriously in different tables; some kids that looked like students with their schoolbooks were in the middle of the place; and, at the back, a man in black, who was smoking, and in another table, a woman who was reading some papers. There were also some empty tables. It was cute because the place wasn’t too big. Some kind of intimacy could be felt there. Besides its own noises the place had its own rules. Every table kept just in its own business like isolated worlds. Like the calm which was before the storm. Just like that was that atmosphere.

And then, suddenly, the two lonely people, stood up. They seemed focused in their own minds. Like two clouds, they were moving to the entrance. Just there they crashed each other. A storm of papers broke out. They were falling all over the floor. The woman looked desperate. The man was fallen on some of her papers. Without any words, she picked them up. She was in the street when the man tried to stand up from the floor. On his feet, he put his glasses on and went on his way.