Caricreatures
Описание книги
Over the course of a year, I undertook the task of working with twenty cartoons that stimulated my imagination. I pretended to reverse the traditional process of illustrating texts. I ”texted” the illustrations daily. The initial objective was to take the characters in a comical way, but they had a lot to tell me. It was the characters who whispered the words to me. They always had a life of their own and I couldn't dominate them anymore. All the poems, stories and monologues, in a way concatenated, retain a global vision although at first glance they appear as disconnected flashes in an exhibition of fireworks. This book aims to be a celebration of humor and irony, but at the same time it aspires to become a rare invitation to reflection and strangeness. Over the course of a year, I undertook the task of working with twenty cartoons that stimulated my imagination. I pretended to reverse the traditional process of illustrating texts. I ”texted” the illustrations daily. Like ”action painting”, I could have called it ”literature in action”, but it would have been to distort the nature of the project, which was a work in progress, a dynamic entity, an evolving process, a writing on the go, a progressive writing. I never had a predetermined plan and the categorization was later, but the invocations of the four classic elements influenced underground in the structure of the work.The initial objective was to take the characters in a comical way, but they had a lot to tell me. It was the characters who whispered the words to me. They always had a life of their own and I couldn't dominate them anymore. All the poems, stories and monologues, in a way concatenated, retain a global vision although at first glance they appear as disconnected flashes in an exhibition of fireworks. This book aims to be a celebration of humor and irony, but at the same time it aspires to become a rare invitation to reflection and strangeness.
Отрывок из книги
At that moment, I would be aware that I would do it. I would make you gaps in the wasteland of your shells. I would end up spilling myself into the paradox of your tsunamis: because if I said it, it would be the truth and then (oh, cruel god of words and seas!) this would never happen.
Yes, friends, I was a pirate and I´m proud of it. I served the famous Francis Drake on most of his grandiose expeditions and I participated in the last of his battles, where I lost one of my legs. But, make silence and I´ll tell you.
.....
Metaphysical and spiritual stories that infect, in a good way, the materialistic and rational sharpness of his wise friends; or fables closer to him, apprentice of a filibuster who wants to take flight like a seagull and then dive into the elusive prey, like the beggar pirate who, in front of every-one´s laughter, claimed to have been a slave trader and to have inaugurated a renewed insignia that conferred courage and transformation to the acolytes who welcomed her as a banner, or like the black man who escaped from his masters and be-came king or the unhappy little man with a disfigured face and sad clothes who claimed to have been the victim a hex, as if his soul was worth more than Faust´s. Poor him, innocent creature full of optimism who barely knows the world and thinks that the tributaries are as comfortable as veins of his gums, salty arteries that lead to the truth. What are you afraid of, sailor, that you falter at the sight your own face reflected in the calm of the ocean? That the foam of the waves hits your skull and breaks the rocks of a virgin island? Or that the bobbies go crazy and start pecking your eyes? Of the corsairs of the word standing up as supreme doers, as unequalled demiurges who consider sea as their property? You, hesitant friend, must be the quintessential pirate, the one who sabotages all the languages and codes established in the foreign kingdoms: you will have to appropriate those kingdoms. You will be the one who forces the fish and the albatross to copulate in order to give birth to a new offspring, a mythological creature born from your womb.
So, our friend, facing his fears, with a renewed but equivocal vision, clings and drinks from his labyrinth, and is determined to invent the seas where he will navigate, a traveller trained on the experiences of others, and who now trusts himself in the capacity of his inventiveness more than in his hazy memory and creates and believes:
.....