curtains raising
Quando vi que chegou aqui já estava fora de estoque. Mereço?! To morrendinho. Aceito de presente se alguém por um milagre achar por ai ><
WOMEN WHEN THEY PUT THEIR CLOTHES ON IN THE MORNING
It’s really a very beautiful exchange of values when women put their clothes on in the morning and she is brand-new and you’ve never seen her put her clothes on before.
You’ve been lovers and you’ve slept together and there’s nothing more you can do about that, so it’s time for her to put her clothes on.
Maybe you’ve already had breakfast and she’s slipped her sweater on to cook a nice bare-assed breakfast for you, padding in sweet flesh around the kitchen, and you both dis¬cussed in length the poetry of Rilke which she knew a great deal about, surprising you.
But now it’s time for her to put her clothes on because you’ve both had so much coffee that you can’t drink any more and it’s time for her to go home and it’s time for her to go to work and you want to stay there alone because you’ve got some things to do around the house and you’re going outside together for a nice walk and it’s time for you to go home and it’s time for you to go to work and she’s got some things that she wants to do around the house.
Or … maybe it’s even love.
But anyway: It’s time for her to put her clothes on and it’s so beautiful when she does it. Her body slowly disappears and comes out quite nicely all in clothes. There’s a virginal quality to it. She’s got her clothes on, and the beginning is over.
PALE MARBLE MOVIE
The room had a high Victorian ceiling and there was a marble fireplace and an avocado tree growing in the window, and she lay beside me sleeping in a very well-built blond way.
And I was asleep, too, and it was just starting to be dawn in September.
1964.
Then suddenly, without any warning, she sat up in bed, waking me instantly, and she started to get out of bed. She was very serious about it.
“What are you doing?” I said.
Her eyes were wide open.
“I’m getting up,” she said.
They were a somnambulist blue.
“Get back in bed,” I said.
“Why?” she said, now halfway out of bed with one blond foot touching the floor.
“Because you’re still asleep,” I said.
“Ohhh … OK,” she said. That made sense to her and she got back into bed and pulled the covers around herself and cuddled up close to me. She didn’t say another word and she didn’t move.
She lay there sound asleep with her wanderings over and mine just beginning. I have been thinking about this simple event for years now. It stays with me and repeats itself over and over again like a pale marble movie.
Que exilado - de si pode fugir?
Mesmo nas zonas mais e mais distantes,
Sempre me caça a praga da existência,
O Pensamento, que é um demônio, antes.
A Inês (Lord Byron)
No momento em que é reconhecido como mentira, o kitsch entra para o contexto de não-kitsch. Perde seu poder autoritário e, mesmo comovente, torna-se igual a qualquer outra fraqueza humana. Nenhum de nós é sobre-humano a ponto de poder escapar completamente ao kitsch. Por maior que seja nosso desprezo por ele, o kitsch faz parte da condição humana.
(A Insustentável Leveza do Ser)
