SOMETIMES YOUR SADNESS IS A YACHT Huge, white and expensive, like an anvil dropped from heaven: how will we get onboard, up there, when it hurts our necks to look? Other times it is a rock on the lawn, and matter can never be destroyed. But today we hold it to the edge of our bed, shutting our eyes, on …
Read More »THE CHAPEL OF THE MAGI: Florence, Palazzo Medici
Welcome on Florence, where history and art combine to bear witness to the past, in exceptional way. You can go with me inside special site, where we can see the Renaissance in Medicean Florence, into the Chapel of the Magi (in Palazzo Medici-Riccardi). We can admire one special chapel – secret and precious – imagining the religious heart of one …
Read More »PAUL GAUGUIN (1848/1903): FRENCH PAINTER: The pictorial harmony of pure colors – human and natural – with no prospects, highlights or shadows
GIOVANNI BELLINI, alias GIAMBELLINO (1433/1516), ITALIAN PAINTER: Master of the Venetian school, with nuances of style ranging from the Byzantine school, to Mantegna, Dürer and Antonello da Messina
AN EVENING IN COPENHAGEN: Smoked salmon, jazz and something intriguing
Café Petersborg – in Bredgade 76 – right next alo Amaliengorg, is the restaurant where I would like to take this evening, an elegant and refined, but if you prefer a quieter corner, right on the edge of the channel, we could go to the restaurant Kanalen – in Frederiksholm Kanal 18 – good for eating smoked salmon from Bornholm, …
Read More »ALBRECHT ALTDORFER (1480/1538): GERMAN PAINTER: In its shades of color, the charm of nature and of human figures
MARICHIKO, POEMS OF LOVE: If I think
IF I THINK If I thought I could go away to come to you, ten thousand miles would be a mile. But we’re in the same city and I dare not see you, and a mile It is longer than a million miles. (Marichico) http://www.amazon.co.uk/Love-Poems-Marichiko-Kenneth-Rexroth/dp/0879221003
Read More »OUR HANDS IN THE WATER: Poetry, by Yves Bonnefoy
OUR HANDS IN THE WATER We fidget this water. In it, our hands are sought, sometimes touching, broken shapes. Further down, is a current, is something invisible, other trees, other lights, other dreams. And look, are also other colors. Refraction transfigures the red. It was a summer day? No, it is the time that will change the sky, and into …
Read More »ROTATIONS: Poetry, by Lorenzo Mari
ROTATIONS The rotation of a star, I understand with the heart. There are red hot stones on the night of the body. These are the names that trace their orbit of oblivion, their ellipse years and forgetfulness. (Lorenzo Mari)
Read More »ISLAND COZUMEL, MEXICO: A dream, for a journey through lagoons and beaches
Ciega and Chan Kanab? These are the names of two lagoons, those that you can admire in Playa San Francisco, with the ability to maintain – however – your eyes open, because these beaches, they are not a dream, but a beautiful reality. Isla Cozumel, does not want to compete with the more famous Cancun, because it is content with …
Read More »ON THE ROOF OF VENEZUELA: Journey in the Parque Nacional Sierra Nevada
You will have already tasted the horizons of the Llanos and Lake Maracaibo, those that fade up, showing you the grandeur of the Andes. If you want to – in just two hours – you get to step Pico El Aquila, next to the snow, but along the way do not miss the opportunity to observe the changing landscape, including …
Read More »MAURICE UTRILLO (1883/1955), FRENCH PAINTER: Urban landscapes of a son of art, born and raised in Montmartre
FRANCISCO GOYA (1746/1828), PAINTER SPANISH: The teacher who had difficulty writing, but not in the paint
WATER AND LAND: LANDSCAPES – Poetry of José Emilio Pacheco
WATER AND LAND: LANDSCAPES It is time imperceptible that it is night. And no one asks how does the night, that matter secret is building the night. Sea, return at night the darkness that draws in your abyss. It rains and the world is concentrated in the rain. The water is absorbed. The whole Earth is sinking in the rain. …
Read More »ALTHOUGH SO FRAGILE: Poetry of Akiko Yosano (1878/1942)
ALTHOUGH SO FRAGILE Although so fragile and so short love, blood has too young this girl, to burn poems spring. (Akiko Yosano)
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