Saturday, October 30, 2010

White Lump On The Roof On My Mouth

dungeon PACT WITH THE DEVIL

few days ago I awoke from its long night my lettera olivetti-32, not a gloomy start, but because I wanted to give the appearance typing a rough draft poems to frame along with some photos. I pulled the zipper of the case, I ordered the relic on a table and watched with rapture house for a few minutes. It's the typewriter that I wanted for me some day I can feel remote Reyes, the same keyboard that struggled under the literary enthusiasm of my fingers for more than three decades, the same structure that was neglected and almost forgotten when I reached the wonderful spell of the new technology. I wondered whether the mechanism would have stalled for lack of use if the tape would have dried ink. I pushed a sheet of paper roll, repeating the movement with the skill of so many times, and returned to hit each letter to complete, random, several words. It worked!: There was the unmistakable pop of the keys, the unique feeling in the fingertips, the thrill of my poetry recovered adolescents and the wake of its fall sadder. I kept typing and suddenly sprang the heads of my two children aged twelve and nine, who had heard the wit and could not imagine what that noise. Of course, they were willing and I let them try, I explained that we had to give dry panache to the button and remove the finger, I revealed how the paper was marked by the intercession of the tape and ink.
Once I heard late Nobel Prize, at a conference, the story of some friends who came from the United States to his country house, the offspring of those friends was surprised at how advanced they were here, because to turn the light at the shelter there was no pressing any key that would cause the electric current, but just enough to light a match with one's hand and bring it immediately to the lamp to be the miracle. I remembered the story while my children played the typewriter, wondering, in his innocence very latest computers and printers, from the obvious mechanism, and I believe that at least for a few minutes with his father shared the excitement anachronistic to attend each letter printed on paper, after the outbreak of the key dry.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Prior Instalation In Rome Total War



was yesterday morning over a cup where there was coffee, and accompanied him and two friends with whom she chats about the good work of director Clint Eastwood on those years in that remote we had television in our house, about a strange movie whose title no one remembered but that passed in Mongolia and the Amazon jungle and on the African savanna about the final of a World Cup, to what can two boobs that overflow of a newspaper photo on the poetic wisdom in the lyrics of Sabina, the contradictions and controversies of NobelĂ­simo Vargas Llosa and many more things that can not be written on a public blog. Suddenly I said, almost without thinking:
"If I was able to write a best seller, leave literature.
And friend, circumspect: "That phrase
have to write it down somewhere.
So bring it here, obedient and a bit stunned, so that vent from the remnants of this scrip.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Images Of Mild Chicken Pox

WORD OF NOBEL

"Literature does not buy happiness, but it makes us more able to live with unhappiness." Mario Vargas Llosa


(* The quotation is not literal, but as I remember, he has time, with due respect source, rather quote by approximation).