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The dark side of the heart

Today I want to recommend a wonderful movie, maybe some of you seen, perhaps you know the name or at least, you would say that sometimes you have experienced "it" refers to what the title of it. It's called The dark side of the heart.
A poet, Oliver, looking for a woman ... who can fly. It is the only requirement .. but so hard to find, sometimes, among the people around us!
The film is "seasoned" with poems by Mario Benedetti, Juan Gelman and, of course, Oliver Girondo, making poetry what it is: an act, a word, a daily gesture.
I leave you with a piece of it, which I love.
Verse of the principle, "be with you or without you is the measure of my time "corresponds to a poem by JL Borges entitled The endangered.
The others are singing Altazor II, the poet Vicente Huidobro.
And all ..... sublime.

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Loneliness Liverpool

pesamientos Thoughts .... ....

[Ricardo Arjona, Loneliness] .

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Living is easy with eyes closed

Misunderstanding all you see

It's getting hard to Be Someone

But it all works out

It Does not Matter Much to me.

With these words from the song Strawberry Fields Forever , the Beatles, I start this little entry to say: I'm back in Liverpool! what an experience ..

certainly have been a few days in which, above curriculum, I have BIOGRAPHY: people from countries as diverse and yet so near and own such as Mexico, Peru, Italy, UK, or Spain itself.

conferences on all sorts of topics, books, questions .. halfway between the historical reality, fiction, dreams, myths, big aspirations and projections of the human soul.

endless walks through a city still young, full of life more than monuments, dances and sways to the rhythm of his music, and its purpose and the traveler always surprised that lives there, or it is left to dwell on it.

time of laughter, joy, surprise also ... as Prince would say fox: time to "go create links, little by little."

crazy time, learning to live intimate moments with people never before seen, and learn about who themselves were close (where you been all this time?).

and time of (re) know about all this, in what has caught me, what is not, in what he craved, as he did not want to happen, in every second that marked the clocks, English schedule impossible, with sunrise at five in the morning and twelve hours after his afternoon tea.

From Liverpool I took many pictures, as a sentimental patchwork, as a music emanating from within, and it sounds loud and concerns more .. And in all, a reflection of lived experience:

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of those that perhaps their "owners" forget who gave them to me in just a second, of those, it sounds cliché to say-that still live the times that marks the heart, and forever.