Ella hace unas pequeñas maravillas, booklets, que muestra en su blog acompañada con mi texto. Nosotros ya hemos hecho varios. Este se llama "ist halt so", lo cual significa aproximadamente: "Es como es".
Por favor vayan a su Blog y vean más. Los booklets están a la venta!
My friend and excellent artist Stefanie Seltner from Germany, is kind enough to show me her drawings and ask me if I have wanted to write something. Obviously, I always tell her yes.
She makes some small wonders, booklets, and she shows on her blog together with my text. We have already made several. This is called "ist halt so", which means roughly: that's the way it is.
Please go to her Blog and see more. The booklets are for sale!
A veces, yo no era yo.
Yo me miraba a mi misma al espejo, y sentía como si estuviera viendo a alguien desconocido desde atrás,
una extraña, que era yo, y que no era yo.
Había transcurrido, mucho tiempo, mi boca no se abrió;
a veces, recordaba algunas caras, pero como si entre ellas y yo, hubiera una espesa niebla.
A veces mi mente me traicionaba y me mostraba mi viejo vestido, de cuando yo era una niña, el mismo vestido a rayas pero en mi cuerpo adulto.
Otras veces, venía a mis sueños un pequeño niño que me decía: "mamá, no bailes, no bailes, por favor, no bailes".
Pero no era yo, era mi cuerpo que quería decir, hablar, contar...
inventar un nuevo idioma, hecho solamente con imágenes olvidadas...
pero yo era una marioneta, manipulada por los hilos de el tiempo.
Y el tiempo había estado diciéndome que yo no era yo.
"Sometimes, I was not me.
I looked at myself in the mirror and felt like if I was watching a stranger from behind
a stranger, that was me, and that was not me.
A long time went passed, my mouth did not open.
Sometimes, I remembered some faces, but as if between them and me, there was a thick fog.
Sometimes my mind betrayed me and showed me my old dress, from when I was a child, the same striped dress but in my adult body.
Other times, it came to my dreams, a little boy who told me: "Mom, do not dance, do not dance, please, do not dance".
But it wasn’t me, it was my body that wanted to say, talk, tell ...
invent a new language, made only with forgotten images ...
but I was a puppet, manipulated by the strings of time.
And time had been telling me that I was not me."
9 comentarios:
♡♡♡ ~ k
Then... who am I? Where am I? Maybe standing in front of another mirror at this very moment, somewhere...?
Roberto, I've just visited Stefanie's post with her lovely tiny booklet!
You have written again something wise and beautiful! To "invent a new language, made only with forgotten images "... I like this so much!
I should do drawings AFTER you wrote something for it.
Was the egg the first on earth or the hen?
Thank you dear friend! Love your poetry!
x Stefanie
You are just the best friend! I wish I could wright something to drawings like you!
What happened to your blog? I miss your always changing header ;-)))))
OOOOOO, I thought you were slaving at your other work and then suddenly there is this marvelous poem! You and Stefanie are great together. You speak the same language. The language of the soul, I mean. Her images are so sad, strange and deep. Your words have the same atmosphere and they give you a lead, a vague idea of what this is all about. By working together you make the story stronger. XXWW!!
sus caras reflejan una tristeza tenue. me gusta.
Dear Roberto, thank you so much for your kind comment again. Its a bit of a pitty that you didn't participate the dc this time, its always amazing what you're coming up with.
Additional to part one on my collage-blog I've posted part 2 to the dc, if you like to have a look.
Very kind of you showing Stefanies cute little books.
Have a nice weekend!
Barbara Bee
Es fantástico. Fantástico regresar por aquí a contemplar tal preciosidad!
-Maldito tiempo-
"Pero yo era una marioneta, manipulada por los hilos de el tiempo. Y el tiempo había estado diciéndome que yo no era yo"
Y no había tenido tiempo para venir a visitarte antes Roberto. -Maldito tiempo- ;)
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