viernes, 2 de octubre de 2015

El conector, el puente, el camino y eso.

He aqui el amor.


He aquí el amor.

Pero mejor hablaremos de esta puerta.

Una puerta es una puerta

a la que yo golpeo día y noche,

a la que yo golpeo día y noche,

a la que yo golpeo día y noche.

Y aunque nadie responda,

y aunque nadie responda,

y aunque nadie responda,

el aire es el aire de todos los días,

las plantas son verdes como siempre,

y el mismo cielo esférico me envuelve

lunes, martes, miércoles, jueves, viernes, sábado y domingo.

¿Pero, qué puedo yo decir del amor?

¿Pero, qué puedo yo decir del amor?

¿Pero, qué puedo yo decir del amor?

En cambio, esta puerta es indudable;

por ella entro y salgo día y noche

hacia los verdes campos que me esperan,

hacia el mismo cielo esférico y perenne.

¿Pero, qué puedo yo decir del amor?

¿Qué puedo yo decir del amor?

¿Qué puedo yo decir del amor?

Mejor sigo hablando de esta puerta.


lunes, 7 de septiembre de 2015

jueves, 20 de agosto de 2015

Advanced Witchcraft

Just 'cause I've been loving this since year 2000, or so

C a r la

Persian Love - Updated

From late july:
Lately love seems so far away,
I mean couples love is now this estrange thing.
So exotic that I wouldn't know or be able to recognize it in front of me.
This invented concept I created along the way, so far in my days on earth,
very earthy, humanly corrupted and such.
Persian Love
From today:
Finally, love seems sane when it's a combo composed by gratitude + kindness.
It may seem it's a little too rare sometimes.
Sept. 14: It's about appreciating someone's life and not trying to own it, just skip trying and love.

C a r l a.

viernes, 31 de julio de 2015

Ode to Perfume

Scents are diverse and rich, they can range from very familiar and annoying to estrange and sensual, from smooth and easily forgotten to intense and profusely imprinted into someones persona; I think of perfumes as an access to a whole other world, to me they are like a door, like you're taking a sneak peek into someone's world. When I was growing up I remember the most fascinating woman I meet only by their aroma, and It always had something extra mixed in, than just a bottle of perfume. It could be the gum she was chewing or the cigarette she just had, even the smell of a fresh leather bag.
For me it stared when I turned eleven, that's when I got my first perfume: soft and fresh but can't remember the name; then was One by CK, a very clean one; later in time I got Allure by Chanel, felt just very french; and then were Lola and Daisy by Marc Jacobs; the first one is probably my favourite so far because it's rare and not everyone loves it at first glance. Then Daisy with it's pinch of jasmine, has been my go to up until now that I've made Coco Mademoiselle my current personal scent.

Ode to Perfume by Holger Czukay

C a r l a

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