Prefiro ouvir a falar (#55)

What is important?

Do you really know what is important in life? Life itself? Beloved Ones? Health? Wealth? Knowledge? Vanity? Self? The body itself (as Schopenhauer once [indirectly] said)? What about career (of course, a successful one [joking])?

What if … some ‘futile’ detail is, in fact, something of paramount importance to you? I couldn’t, unfortunately, explain to you exactly what I’m thinking. I have the image, but I am not able to convey it in language (at least, not easily).

Ok, that doesn’t make sense. After all, if I have a blog, it is because I think I should materialize my ideas in this tiny post, right?

Well, yes. So, here you go: to grasp what is really important, you, paradoxically, has to go beyond your own [fantastic] self. Yes, the self is pure (necessary) illusion: time within brackets. It appears to me that the only thing that really matters is the “body” [by contrast to self-as-an-imaginary-instance] and, by consequence, the ‘here-and-now’.

Yeap. Whenever we, by means of your ‘mind’ (its power), transcend the actual life we’re having, then we are losing ground, and reaching, so to speak, the helm of the imaginary, the domain of what should be important (or should have been important [as fantasy]).

Two days ago my oldest dog had a collapse. I thought she had passed away. At that very moment, I had no ideas or images in my mind, only her (supposedly) dead body. At that exact moment, that body was the only thing really important, material, to me. Everything else, all the illusions of my self, were sent to the back of my mind. All of the sudden, they stop tormenting me. Do you see? The “événement” – something like “the event”. It took my breath away. The self, in that particular, singular and irreversible moment, was nothing. Three or so minutes later, my dog “came back to life”. I had no idea she was having ‘only’ a collapse (she has an early heart failure insufficiency), and not going to die. Then, life went back to its track, but this episode led me to think about what is important in life…

Capiche?

“Between the Clock and the Bed”

Like the insurrection of rock and roll against show tunes and sugary popular music, Munch’s touchstone images came to satisfy a yen for something grittier and more urgently engaging than the formalism, based in Impressionism and Cubism, that was upheld by art historians at the time. His sensibility suited a generation convinced that it had invented sex, in the sixties, and the pleasures and panics of narcissism, in the seventies. “Between the Clock and the Bed” coincides neatly with the impending boomer discovery of death. (We will then mercifully get off the world’s nerves.)

[The New Yorker]

A rainha da pamonha

Nós, que nascemos em Piracicaba, no interior de S. Paulo, somos conhecidos por adorarmos pamonha (quem é de SP com certeza conhece o bordão “Olha as pamonhas de Piracicaba!…)…ou por sermos os maiores produtores dessa iguaria, ou os que a mais consomem. Pois bem, eis que esbarro na internet e vejo minha mãe (a do centro), feliz da vida por, em mais um ano ajudando o pessoal da Festa do Milho de Tanquinho (organizada por meu irmão, José Bendassolli), a vender essa que é, com certeza, a marca registrada de nossa região!

Saudades do bairro em que nasci…

Resultado de imagem para jose albertino bendassolli

Prefiro ouvir a falar (#54)

I prefer listening to talking (#53)

PFB said: “Oh, life is so complicated!” And, then…

Simon & Garfunkel – Homeward Bound

I’m sitting in the railway station.
Got a ticket to my destination.
On a tour of one-night stands my suitcase and guitar in hand.
And ev’ry stop is neatly planned for a poet and one-man band.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought’s escaping
Home where my music’s playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

 

Ev’ry day’s an endless stream
Of cigarettes and magazines.
And each town looks the same to me, the movies and the factories
And ev’ry stranger’s face I see reminds me that I long to be,
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought’s escaping,
Home where my music’s playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.

Tonight I’ll sing my songs again,
I’ll play the game and pretend.
But all my words come back to me in shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony I need someone to comfort me.
Homeward bound,
I wish I was,
Homeward bound,
Home where my thought’s escaping,
Home where my music’s playing,
Home where my love lies waiting
Silently for me.
Silently for me.