No es una droga química pero casi. Digamos que es el proceso que en su tercer grado nos permite conocer de verdad a los demás, en realidad, es una conversión total, un proceso de reconocimiento de nosotros mismos en la obra y yo creo que la literatura exige esto, ni más ni menos. Por eso lo comparo con el amor. Fue David Cooper el que dijo:
"Hacer el amor es bueno por sí mismo, y tanto mejor cuantas más veces se haga, de cualquier manera posible e imaginable, entre el mayor número de personas y durante la mayor cantidad de tiempo posible".
Y de alguna manera, cuando se escribe del amor, hay que sentirlo, o hay que recordar haberlo sentido, uno necesita estar "convertido" en sujeto paciente del amor mientras escribe. Ciertas cosas no se pueden fingir. ¿O tal vez sí? Dice Pedro Salinas:
"Iré rompiendo todolo que me echaron encimadesde antes de nacer.Y vuelto ya al anónimoeterno del desnudo,de la piedra, del mundo,te diré:"Yo te quiero, soy yo". (La voz a ti debida).
Dice Paul Valéry:
"Yo, sólo tengo tus temores.Mi contrición, mis dudas, mis aprietos,son el defecto de tu gran diamante.Pero en su noche, grávida de mármol,un pueblo vago, entre raíces de árboles,por ti se ha decidido lentamente". (El cementerio marino).
I'm writing on love, just find it so difficult, so confusing: wasn't there love before the troubadours and Eleanor of Aquitaine? It was folly before then wasn't it ? It had to be taken in a potion or drought. In Tristan and Isolde? And what about sex? When did it come into the picture? This is not what I'm writing but it is what I'm thinking about ;)? And you?Where are you?
ResponderEliminarI’ve been recently worried about unlove. Unlove makes my blood run cold, unlove goes against who and what I am. Unlove raises a hand in Roman salute; it burns books and can often be glimpsed in us. Unlove is fear Unlove lacks imagination, empiricism, while it uses intellect to justify its deeds, instead of choosing to understand we are all one. Unlove is like the eternal victim always looking for someone else to blame.
ResponderEliminarUnlove is my fierce temper that can lash out like a snake bite .And yet not unlike you, I think, I was reared on love. I feel it often and everywhere. It overcomes me unexpectedly when we are sitting around a table laughing, when I see someone I know unawares of me walk by, when I see unexpected gestures, warmth, and movements of people I like.
I’ve always seen writing as an intrinsic part of love. One writes to, about and for love, if only out of disappointed love of life. Also not unlike love, one can think one is expressing one feeling when in reality she/he is expressing another. Or is telling one story to later realize s/he is telling another.
I remember reading that book of poems: the voice owed to you; it’s also in a box. I need more poetry, I’ve never heard yours. I’ve been told you read it out loud in the streets, and yet I have never heard any of it.
Is writing like love because we share a story? Or is it because love also is only a creation? Is love just the narration we want to share with someone?
You made me want to go upstairs to look for some poetry. Only found Shelley, my father stole from me. I had bought in 1977 and put stars on my favourite ones. All about Anarchy, of course. I who loves love so much don’t have a love poem to quote.I’m poetryless!