Sunday, 18 December 2011

Lettre du voyant

"I say that one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet makes himself a seer by a long, prodigious, and rational disordering of all the senses. Every form of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he consumes all the poisons in him, and keeps only their quintessences. This is an unspeakable torture during which he needs all his faith and superhuman strength, and during which he becomes the great patient, the great criminal, the great accursed – and the great learned one! – among men. – For he arrives at the unknown! Because he has cultivated his own soul – which was rich to begin with – more than any other man! He reaches the unknown; and even if, crazed, he ends up by losing the understanding of his visions, at least he has seen them! Let him die charging through those unutterable, unnameable things: other horrible workers will come; they will begin from the horizons where he has succumbed!"

 Arthur Rimbaud

The graspable has vanished.
My eyes are now set upon the infinite horizon.

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

From fragment to fragment

Moss Garden, 183 miles to enclosure point

We set out towards the ocean. Now it was the ice that broke beneath our feet and suddenly we were jumping from one ice piece to another. I was completely disoriented. All machines were turned off so we wouldn't be located. But Holy was a cat of refined senses, sometimes he would stretch his head and shook the cold polar wind from his whiskers. His little wet red nose churned before choosing the next fragment of floating ice to jump to.
We jumped to a larger piece in the center where we decided to stay. Here we should be able to camp in safety and get some rest. I removed a capsule and opened it. Within 5 seconds our home was installed. I chose the aspect of an igloo through Holy's drafts in our logbook. He told me that was how a home should look in there. I found it strange cause it didn't look like anything I have seen before. But Holy's face kept quiet as if he knew everything he had to do and nothing was strange, ultimately, as if he was the sole owner of one big secret.
We went inside the igloo and started sleeping. Holy connected the alert system. I did not understand it very well - there was nothing around us, I found myself all alone - but when the alarm system was activated I immediately noticed a huge white hairy head stuck in the narrow entrance of the igloo.
- "Please help me... I know you can hear me! ... Come get me out of here."
- "And why should we do that?" Holy asked.
- "Because if you don't it will be impossible for you to leave, unless you want to go through my mouth. It's very warm inside me, do you want to come? "Said the shaggy head enthusiastically.
Holy and I looked at his huge eyes when we were startled by a noise coming from is stomach.

- "I'm so hungry ... okay I understand that you wont let me eat you but set me free so that I can go hunting please.” 
- "We will set you free." Holy said.
- "But what then?! ..." I asked. "I do not understand how can you trust that hungry head ..."
- "I do not trust him. He's like a bear, and all their good will doesn't matter, their nature will speak louder. So let's open a hole in the ceiling and then when we are away you will remotely disable the capsule."
And so we did. We distance ourselves until Holy ordered me to turn off the capsule. We saw the bear right there in a distance over a raft of ice, then he disappeared into the water.

On a cold day a Bear is lost in his own hunger.
Thus he was born with an extraordinary sense of orientation in space.
Nature works so that we can find ourselves.
Time is always in our favor
even when we flee
from fragment to fragment,
into the icy wastelands.

Sunday, 4 December 2011

The Monkey, the crying Forest and the Sea

A very rainy day came to the village. The Mothers were mad, consumed by the fear of seeing the rotting flesh. Humidity was felt, it had the same smell of death. Coffins slide down in those days and no one would deviate from them: some were frightened and stared intently to its downward movement, while others only notice their coffin when it ran over them, and inside them they followed their path. They went down over the wet purple grass. They would reach such speeds (some believe that death has higher gravitational acceleration) that when they finally arrived to their grave, the echo was heard throughout the Forest. Then, the oldest tell, the Monkey would say: 
   "Someone broke into the Sea" 
and the Forest would cry. The Sea wasn't happy about it and would fill itself with rage: he had a volatile temper. And many rainy days came until the sun showed up again. When the rain stopped, the Mothers decided to go after the Monkey. This one, realizing his fate, tore the liver through his mouth and sewed it in his ear, full of hope. The Mothers were very touched by his gesture so they rose up the stumps where they stood and ate out his liver. 

Each coffin came for his Mother, and the Monkey went into the Sea.