Understanding the life or live it?
The span of two matches was enough to ripropormi the problem and give me moments of genuine astonishment. Amazement understood as the enjoyment of life.
There are many things I do not know: some do not interest me and I slip by without either temptation attention, other interested me and I ventured there, albeit with major limitations, gaining a sense of satisfaction. Still others have always fascinated me because of the contrast between my utter inability to manage and endless ability to experience them than others.
And for this reason the latter have developed hypersensitivity in me, an almost too responsive, counterfeit and at the same time, an ability to entertain and enjoy the skills of others.
poetry and music Two of these fields.
For years I went to hear poets, I read poetry and I hated for my inability to experience pleasurable sensations when everyone else said they felt.
For years I have watched old snails rolled up on themselves, sharpen unpleasantly words contrary to their being.
I had to force myself to think about trying to understand, often arriving at the moment.
For years I wondered if the only value of certain artists had created envy of others to imagine breaking the taboos of the time.
considerations far removed from the sense of poetry. What
while consolations shrinking the so-called value did not raise the esteem in which I was sure of me. Indeed, in the consciousness of an act of failure, lowered the maximum.
Then seven years ago, with the celebration, such as toll due to a summer evening of poetry, I thought I reconcile myself with regard to poetry.
few exceptions, no sacred poet, no obscurity, but many people who knew of a common life and capture the magic moment to him.
no effort to understand: the joy of receiving a polite smile on words.
The other night, no.
The advent on the scene of a poet, I was puzzled.
Oh, the Berlusconi has come up to here!
vetriolesca I looked puzzled, and the entry of a beautiful woman on stage, and those who believe its complacency on a couple of generations of the power of money and maybe a power of the mind.
The forehead is not high, low yield from the central division of a wild fake hair. The falsely virginal gown, lies on a limp body in which a thread of cellulite begins to escape weekend beauty farms, reveals that, under that appearance of girl sailed, there was a woman.
The jazz background music and inconsistency of cleverly chosen words in the dictionary of the "mo 'will impress you with my scholarship," I was lulled into an emotional disengagement.
At first I focused on particular womanly, I think just to counter the impact of sexually attractive person:
Resembles Marcegaglia . However good the choice of flat sandals, the dress falls at his feet in a simple old woman full of fascinating history. Of course there is a difference with the look of pussy mistress or wooden of some high heels!
Ardita the choice of fabric and color. White fabric nestles gently on the body. It is certainly not done to hide imperfections. Good selection of the absolute lack of frills. Look, this very simplicity weight off the defects and turns them into virtues of the eternal feminine. When I think back to the combination of organza flowers pinned on clothes, fabric, and stiffened by false color meanings, that some women have managed to slip with starched ostentation.
Eh, that abyss!
Every time I try to back to the words.
Poetess (?) Gives her strength with accompanying them with a dramatic gesture.
I follow his footsteps back and forth:
occasionally presents every so often portrays himself as the sea, never to the side.
I follow their hands: it has dramatic attitudes. But are not discounted.
The look better and I finally understand that they do: implement, do not instinctively know how and how much he studies behind them, the most ancient techniques to promote energy prana.
Once you understand it is easy to follow his gestures is not melodrama,
is in contact with the universe.
The words continue to have an obscure sense, luckily the sound of the sax, bass, piano, and last but not least keep the battery attached to the present, because "his" emotions I still fall , dark.
Then the sound and rhythm are starting to get me.
Sense sense give me a sense for it to follow you!
No; ruminations are aimed at creating a sophism, a mental masturbation!
Search for light and dark evoked, including the pressure of words,
breath,
a great sense of satisfaction in the richness of it all.
Then silence. The applause, bows diva.
Here's what I found a "diva."
a performance is an old marketing operation. I understand why, at different times, when these operations were not inflated by the media junk, some could lose your head and fortune in an attempt to capture a simple act of attention of a "diva."
dazed and enchanted
as I find myself suddenly stops when the wind in the trees,
in the foyer I gave rein to my Salieri syndrome and
I answered tout court,
con Imman stronzaggine,
a Chi Mi domandava che ne Pensavo:
Una presenza notevole scenica!
0 comments:
Post a Comment