9 January 2016

Ganduri de demult si de 2016

Pentru ca gandurile si ideile atrag si se atrag... concepte si notiuni, sensuri si intelesuri care creaza universuri... in unele ramai prizonier, catre altele tanjesti, pe unele le visezi ori le distrugi; insa acel Univers pe care il creezi pentru a-l locui, cel creat "dupa chipul si asemanarea" imaginarului si sufletului tau, expus sau refugiu, acel Univers care iti este responsabilitate stiuta sau nu, acel Univers trebuie sa fie Magic. 

Un an la inceputul caruia nu mi-am facut "resolution list" - mi l-as dori spontan, cu vise-realitate implinite seren sau prin razboi, ci nu din obligatie. Poate singura concesie ar fi:
Timp pentru gandirea intru Magic - cu toate idiosincraziile sale. Sau ale noastre...

12 March 2015

De ziua ta, mamico...

Dupa ''Am pierdut o batistuta'', consideratiunile asupra cantecelelor copilariei (ma) lovesc din nou. De aceasta data melodia copilariei, de fiecare 8 Martie - cu ''sudden clarity clarence''-ul ca versurile au caracter intrucatva axiologic: inima (cu toate etc.-urile sale) primeaza asupra materialului temporar, iar persoanei suprem-iubita daruiesti reflexiv - ''te'', adica...
Si totusi... multe femei prefera sa primeasca o floare decat suflet; si totusi... multi barbati prefera sa ofere o floare decat suflet ...
''De ziua ta, mamico,
In dar ti-am adus inima
si crede-ma, mamico,
Un dar mai frumos nu se putea.

Am vrut sa-ti culeg o floare,
Un mic ghiocel frumos,
Dar pana la urma moare
Si cui e de folos?''

4 February 2015

joaca de-a formele geometrice

* cea mai vicioasa - cercul 
* cea mai prostovana - patratul 
* cea mai inselatoare - (t)romb(on)ul 
* cea mai eco - conul 
* cea mai muzicala - sfera

22 December 2014

Amurg de lumina

Cand somnul Soarelui creaza povesti - povestea cerului aparent devenit pamant - cotropit de lava luminii si a norilor; cand privesti in afara si traiesti eruptia Vezuviului sau a Etnei, iar calatoria trairii este atat de reala, incat te zbati impulsului de a te adaposti de apropierea infernului, ramanand totodata prizonier al fascinatiei imaginarului. 
Cand trezirea este o clipire repetata - momente consecutive de distantare intru Real - si indepartarea a gandurilor - devenite broboane de imagini adunate pe frunte.

4 December 2014

Poezia non-sensului cu inteles

O poezie a non-sensului cu sens, un 'Asteptandu-l pe Godot' al sentimentelor, versificat, amestec sinestezic de sperante, imagini si parfumuri prezente si conditionate, o dihotomie a neintamplatului asteptat.

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30 November 2014

Retorice XI

Tocmai am avut brusca revelatie cum ca expresia 'soare cu dinti' nu se refera la un zambet rece, ci la faptul ca Soarele isi arata dintii/ coltii - surasu-i si razele fiind mai degraba muscatoare, decat sclipitoare...

1 November 2014

Reminder - VI

You have a skill for language, your imagination is vast and you are artistic and creative. Your brain is just overflowing with ideas, and all you have to do is get a piece of paper and share it with the world. You were born to turn words into magical stories.

29 October 2014

Retorice X

O postare mai veche mi-a inspirat cateva consideratiuni asupra expresiei 'pe de rost' - un text izvorat din rostire, din zicere si memorie, spre deosebire de cel scris, recitit de privire; una dintre putinele expresii riguroase ale limbii romane, care in privinta acestei locutiuni se deosebeste de poeticul 'by heart'/ 'par coeur' - caz in care textul se idenfica cu inima, astfel incat rostirea sa este dictata de suflet mai degraba, decat de memorie. 
Gandindu-ma la semnificatia lui 'rost' din 'a avea un rost' insa, atunci pare ca textul salasluieste in propriul sens si structura logica, facilitand procesul memorarii - ceea ce ar transforma expresia si intr-o apreciere a stilului scriitoricesc al autorului, sau constructia per se a cuvantului, pe langa indicarea practica a manierei de recitare; rostirea devine astfel generata de sens - elemente dealtfel mnemotehnice.

15 October 2014

Italo Calvino si sevrajul bibliofil

“In the shop window you have promptly identified the cover with the title you were looking for. Following this visual trail, you have forced your way through the shop past the thick barricade of Books You Haven't Read, which were frowning at you from the tables and shelves, trying to cow you. But you know you must never allow yourself to be awed, that among them there extend for acres and acres the Books You Needn't Read, the Books Made For Purposes Other Than Reading, Books Read Even Before You Open Them Since They Belong To The Category Of Books Read Before Being Written. And thus you pass the outer girdle of ramparts, but then you are attacked by the infantry of the Books That If You Had More Than One Life You Would Certainly Also Read But Unfortunately Your Days Are Numbered. With a rapid maneuver you bypass them and move into the phalanxes of the Books You Mean To Read But There Are Others You Must Read First, the Books Too Expensive Now And You'll Wait Till They're Remaindered, the Books ditto When They Come Out In Paperback, Books You Can Borrow From Somebody, Books That Everybody's Read So It's As If You Had Read Them, Too. Eluding these assaults, you come up beneath the towers of the fortress, where other troops are holding out:
the Books You've Been Planning To Read For Ages,
the Books You've Been Hunting For Years Without Success,
the Books Dealing With Something You're Working On At The Moment,
the Books You Want To Own So They'll Be Handy Just In Case,
the Books You Could Put Aside Maybe To Read This Summer,
the Books You Need To Go With Other Books On Your Shelves,
the Books That Fill You With Sudden, Inexplicable Curiosity, Not Easily Justified,
Now you have been able to reduce the countless embattled troops to an array that is, to be sure, very large but still calculable in a finite number; but this relative relief is then undermined by the ambush of the Books Read Long Ago Which It's Now Time To Reread and the Books You've Always Pretended To Have Read And Now It's Time To Sit Down And Really Read Them.” 
(Italo Calvino - If on a Winter's Night a Traveler)
*****
Aniversare Italo Calvino - omul care s-a insinuiat in sfantul pentagon (Boris - Milorad Pavic - Thomas Mann - Wittgenstein/ Borges - Marguerite Duras) si l-a transformat in hexa-.
 Si nici macar nu i-am aprofundat scriitura; stiu doar bucati de scrieri, citate, idei, structuri de roman. Insa de fiecare data cand ne intalnim, ii zambesc ca unei bucati din sufletul meu, iar el imi zambeste ca si cand ar fi ar fi traversat timpul ca sa il cunoasca.
Exact ca acum, cand imi citesc nebunia cartilor in cuvintele lui. De cate ori m-ai observat la targuri de carte, in biblioteci si librarii, Italo Calvino? Si de cate ori nu te-am vazut? De cate ori ti-am zambit? De cate ori mi-ai soptit in suflet sensuri neauzite? De cate ori mi-ai mangaiat gandurile? Si de cate ori ai fost Tu, cand credeam ca sunt Eu?

28 September 2014

Adiere de haiku

cer aramiu in noapte
de toamna. oare si sufletul
lunii sangereaza?

23 April 2014

"A poet never rests; he's always working, even when he dreams"

 De ziua Cartilor si a lui Shakespeare, un interviu cu Borges, si fascinatia mea fara sfarsit pentru imaginile vii ale celor care au fost. Un interviu ca o formula magica - despre scris si scriitura, poet si poezie, si cuvinte si destin, in care fiecare sens este atat de atent asezat in fraza, incat privesc repetat 1:39 minute de perfectiune semantico-lingvistica.


In addition to the beauty of his books, he left me this advice.
The task of art is to continuously transform what is happening to us, to transform all these things into symbols, into music, into something which can last in man's memory. That is our duty. If we don't fulfill it, we feel unhappy.
A writer or any artist has the sometimes joyful duty to transform all that into symbols. These symbols could be colors, forms or sounds. For a poet, the symbols are sounds and also words, fables, stories, poetry.
The work of a poet never ends. It has nothing to do with working hours. You are continuously receiving things from the external world. These must be transformed, and eventually will be transformed. This revelation can appear anytime.
A poet never rests. He's always working, even when he dreams. Besides, the life of a poet is a lonely one. You think you are alone, and as the years go by, if the stars are by your side, you may discover that you are at the center of a vast circle of invisible friends whom you will never get to know but who love you. And that is an immense award.