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"... once and for all and peace and that's enough."

FIN

Yes, you had to put an end coincides with the closing of the last page of this project, blog-city, book, exhibition or personal therapy long long time. There give it a name, said John Hélène 62 Model Kit, but also must be wary of words as the mural reminds Place Freels.

Words ... Which are at least those of Julio Cortázar himself in a radio interview conducted by Blázquez in the program Adelaide stubs , over twenty-five years

One of the main interpreters of Rayuela, Carlos Fuentes, says this book exhausts all possible formulations of a book impossible, and moreover refers to the substitution in the same Beufon's famous phrase: "Man is an animal who knows he will die", by "the Man is not, but wants to be and this will be the real goal of their search. The funny thing at this point is the phrase cryptic that the author of Rayuela puts into the mouth of one of its characters: "Paris is the original model of being."

JC: I may have written, but ... as I have spent already 60 years old, I start to have memory leaks, and the truth is that I do not remember having written all that. My relationship with Paris, good, bad self-cited, but I should refer to those who hear that a book like Hopscotch and many stories. That is, a contact to root out deeply magical, poetic root, which caused me to see in Paris a city of choice, a city in which no City renounce my former life that is Buenos Aires, and is also a magical city, I did, however, a kind of reverse of the medal, gave me a world that is not conceivable in Argentina and Buenos Aires. My connection to Paris was, and it shows too much of what I have written, on one hand a poetic link and on the other, a metaphysical link, and in that sense, yes, there is some discovery of essences that I did here and he had not done anywhere else. Finally my relationship with Paris, I think that has always been an erotic relationship ... I believe that Paris is the woman of my life.

it's no wonder that fans are bent on topics found in Cortazar's work, as in any hispanic artist of his generation that has passed through Paris, influenced by surrealism.

JC: I have had a special relationship with the surreal, because I have the impression, of course, my critics know that better than me, because I have no critical sense, or with respect to myself or with respect to others no, I have been given, but in the end, anyway I have enough awareness of what I have done, what I've tried to do to say that I do not think there has been a direct influence on me, literary surrealism. What came, when I met surrealism in Buenos Aires in the 40's, when I read [all the French Surrealists who came to Argentina at that time] was the discovery of a series of breaks that seemed extraordinary. That is, what I saw in Surrealism was the attempt to demolish a number of shells, a series of whitewashed tombs, a series of structures and bad, that came down and continued to maintain official literature.

More than surrealism seems to dominate Julio Cortázar a dimension that one almost hesitates to call because the word fantastic results in misunderstandings. A good definition of this term however has been proposed by the Czech writer Milan Kundera: "the fantastic is to give a dreamlike dimension of reality to that reality becomes even more real." It is not because of opposing reality-unreality, but to tear down the border between them.

JC: It is very beautiful Milan Kundera's phrase I do not know. What I would say is that ... I have a certain prejudice about the notion of borders, because every time someone talk to me, and critics working on the issue between fantasy and reality, it tends to draw a line on one side is the reality, on the other hand the fantastic. I begin by suggesting that the notion of border itself is highly artificial ... is like the notion of the Arctic Circle or Ecuador. When you cross the Atlantic in a boat and the captain comes and says we are now crossing the line of Ecuador, and all children were leaning over the railing to see if they see the line, because they want to see it and naturally not [.. .] The great thing is something that happens here, right now, for me at least is something that happens in reality. I think all my fairy tales happen in everyday reality and more pedestrian and more simple and then suddenly there's a twist, a door opens and when you thought you were going out to a hallway that goes forward, as there is a fork and go into another dimension, but eventually return to reality, you're not the exception. In that sense, I think it truly enriches reality, but without the reality, and importantly, the fantastic without reality dissolves and makes no sense. We need to be installed on reality so that what has value and has great beauty. [I've always hated the literature that is purely fantastic ...] A fantastic things happen to me all the time, but I'm still alive, I'm still in reality.

right ... Paris and passion, the surreal and offender court, questioning the border between reality and fantasy ... but then again it is difficult to verbalize, the appellant Metro ticket forgotten in a pocket, the street musician who sings in your path Do not think twice, it's allright right in the moment of loneliness, depression and prey of doubt in your mind, the immense surprise to see what was underneath the window Foundation Henri Cartier-Bresson, the ghostly tour of the rue de la Huchette and down to the Saint Michel station one night in January after seeing Blade Runner Studio Galande (city ...), pages many stories, as unknown as recognized-read in a leather armchair in an apartment of the Rue Vaneau, discovery-time after-which meant the same street in Rayuela, finding an allegory of La Maga, Rocamadour and Horacio nothing less than the rue Mouffettard (yes Henri, ...), there are moments that man alone in the Pont des Arts, a store that sold mate against the heart of chalk rue Cloche Perce, the dummies that follow you with their eyes on the trail of de Clignancourt Flea, a portal with basilisks figures should be in Vienna but is on the Ile Saint Louis, the shadows that cross the bridges of the Canal Saint Martin ... or adolescent osita stretches in the sun lying on a tombstone, on which were written the names of Julio Cortázar and Carol Dunlop, while telling his friend how and why I wanted so much to Julie, that was the picture I did, I did not want to do, because I wanted to call that place and not Kindberg Montparnasse Cemetery ...

No, there is no end beyond of words. But there are no escape routes. Doors and passages occur in the continuum of the city. And the next step - at least for me, will start again from the Home>

Paris is a center, do you understand, a mandala is to go without dialectics, a labyrinth where pragmatic formulas serve only to get lost. Then a cogito that is like breathing Paris into letting him go, no logos and pneuma.

(...) Paris danced outside waiting for us, we had just landed, barely lived, everything was there without name or history ...

Rayuela, chap. 93

Inverted Pentagram Chalice

It destroys us ... Morelli

This is how Paris destroys us slowly, deliciously, ground between old flowers and tablecloths with wine stains, color your fire without running the evening out of the gates decayed. We invented a fire burns, a glowing structure, an artifact of the race, a city that is the big screw, the needle with its eye horrible night where the thread runs Seine, torture machine as nails, dying in a cage crammed with angry swallow. We burn in our work, great honor mortal, high challenge of the Phoenix. No fire will heal dull, colorless fire running at dusk by the rue de la Huchette. Incurable, perfectly cured, we chose to structure the Big Screw, we lean on him, we enter it, reinventing every day, every wine stain on the tablecloth, to kiss each mold in the early hours of the Cour de Rohan, invent our fire, we burn from the inside out, maybe that is the choice, this may involve words such as bread and napkin in the scent is, fluffing the flour, yes no no, or not without the other, the day without Manes, without Hormuz or Ahriman, once and for all and peace and enough.
Rayuela, chap. 73

"Piazza" at the Centre Pompidou. Beaubourg. Paris III

Cimetière du Père Lachaise. (Tomb of Jim Morrison. January 1, 1992) Paris XX

La Ruche. Paris XV

Quai de Conti. ("Panama" sobrenombre popular in Paris) ParisV

Museum of Arts and Trades. ("La manera los Huesos ...") machacar of Paris III

Museum of Arts and Trades. (Pendulo Eddy). Paris III

Metro Odéon. Paris VI

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Sewn In Hair Extensions

thought ...

In one of his books, talks about the Neapolitan Morelli spent years sitting at the door of his home watching a screw on the ground. At night I got together and put it under the mattress. The screw was first laugh, made of hair, irritation community, neighborhood committee, a sign of violation of civic duties, finally shrug, peace, the screw was peace, no one could pass the street without looking askance at the screw and feel that it was peace. The guy died from syncope, and screw the neighbors came just disappeared. One of them saved, perhaps in secret and out look, then save and go to the factory feeling something that does not include, a dark disapproval. Just be quiet when you pull the screw and looks at him, stared until he hears footsteps and has to hastily. Morelli thought that the screw should be something else, a god or something. Too easy. Perhaps the mistake was in accepting that the object was a screw that was shaped like a screw. Picasso takes a toy car and turns it on the chin of a baboon. Maybe the Neapolitan was an idiot but could also be the inventor of one world. Screw an eye, a look at a star ... Why surrender to the Great Tradition?

Rayuela, chap. 73

Luxembourg. Paris V

Musée National d'Art Moderne. Centre Pompidou. Beaubourg. Paris IV

Notre Dame. Paris IV

Picasso Museum. Paris III

Villa de l'Ermitage. Paris XX




"Nada" by Frank Gerard. Saint-Germ ain des Pr ed. Rue de Seine. Paris VI

Así our destruye ... >

Catchy Phrases For Invites

The hopscotch is played ... Célestin

The hopscotch is played with a pebble to be pushed with the tip of the shoe. Ingredients: a sidewalk, a stone, a shoe, and a beautiful chalk drawing, color preference. At the top is Heaven, below is the Earth is very difficult to reach with the pebble to Heaven, almost always miscalculate and the stone out of the picture. Gradually, however, is acquiring the skills necessary to save the various boxes (spiral hopscotch, rectangular hopscotch, fantasy hopscotch, little used) and one day you learn to leave Earth and climb the pebble to Heaven to enter in heaven (we amours Et tous, sobbed Emmanuèle face down), the trouble is that just at that point, when almost no one has learned to pick up the pebble to Heaven, just hit the child and falls in novels , in anguish to God rocket, on speculation of another sky that also needs to learn how to get there. And because he has left the children (Je n'oublierai pas le temps des cerises, Emmanuèle kicked on the floor) you forget that you need to get to Heaven, as ingredients, a stone and the tip of a shoe. That's what Heraclitus knew, deep in the shit (...) and the mucus and the semen and the smell of the dung Emmanuèle and enter the Dark path leading to the kibbutz of desire, not to ascend to heaven (up, word hypocrite, sky, flatus vocis), but man walking distance of a land of men to the kibbutz far away but in the same plane as the sky was the same plane as Earth in the filthy sidewalk games, and one day perhaps come into the world where that Sky would not be a grease-stained towel, and one day someone would see the true picture of the world, pretty patterns As Can Be , and perhaps pushing the stone, would eventually enter the kibbutz.
Rayuela, chap. 36

Impasse Lebouis. (Desde Fondation Henri Cartier-Bresson). Paris XIV

Centre Pompidou. Beaubourg. Paris III

The Tuileries. Paris I

Rue des Cascades ("Espacio Louise Michel. El tiempo de las Cerezas). Paris XX

Les Puces de Clignancourt. Paris XVIII

La Villette. Paris XIX

Morelli thought ... >

Word For I In The Word Islam In An Acrostic Poem

Customs ...

The new look dawn on the tip of the Vert-Galant, the willow was pulling out their spiders fine mist. When asked why docharde trembled with such Canadian shrugged and offered her another cigarette. Smoking and smoking, talking and looking sympathetically. The docharde he explained the customs of Celestin and remembered again that afternoon had been clinging to Célestin at all banks and parapets of the Pont des Arts, at the corner of the Louvre in front of bananas as tigers, under the portals of Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois, and a night on rue Git-le-Coeur, kissing and alternately rejecting, drunk, Celestin to a painter's smock and docharde as always below four or five coats and dresses and some coveralls, gender trouble holding a red bag where pieces out and horn broken, so in love with Celestin was admirable, filling the face of rouge and some as fat, hideously lost in their romance public, getting to the end of the rue de Nevers, and then Maga said: "It is she who is in love, he does not care "and had looked for a moment before bending down to put together a green piolincito overwhelms the finger.
Rayuela, chap. 36

Pointe du Vert-Galant. Paris I

"Piazza" at the Centre Pompidou. Beaubourg. Paris IV

FNAC de l'Étoile. Paris XVII




"Piazza" at the Centre Pompidou. Beaubourg. Paris IV

The hopscotch is played ... >

New Born Welcome Messages

The kibbutz of desire ...

was less cold by the Seine than in the streets, and Oliveira turned up the collar of the Canadian and went to watch the water. As there was thrown which sought to get under a bridge and think a while about the kibbutz, the idea was long haunted her kibbutz, a kibbutz of desire. "Strange that a sentence outbreak hit well and does not make sense, a kibbutz of desire, until the third time slowly begins to clear and suddenly feel that it was an absurd phrase, for example a sentence like:" The hope, that Palmira fat 'is completely absurd, a rumbling sound, while the kibbutz of desire is nothing absurd, is a summary yes pretty tight to walk around for there, in corso corso. Kibbutz; colony, settlement, settlement, chosen corner where raise the final store, go out the night air with his face washed by the time and join the world, the Great Madness, the vast Burra, open to the crystallization of desire, the encounter. Hojo, Horacio "Hanot Holiveira sitting on the parapet beneath the bridge, listening to the snores of the clochards beneath piles of newspapers and burlap.
Rayuela, chapter 36.

Rue Desirée. (desired street. "occupying the World!") Paris XX

Place Stravinsky. Paris IV

Rue de l'Esperance. Paris XIII

City, between el muelle y el Petit Pont Pont au Double. Paris IV

Street of the bagpipe ("Road to Joy"). Paris XIV

The customs of Celestin ... >

Diablo 2 Bot D2nt Channel

I killed you, John ...

"Oh, we're crazy, let me tell you something crazy: I killed you, John, and this started then, the same day you killed. Not you, of course, nor to him kill him, was the same as the wrist or this conversation, a reference to other things but with a kind of total responsibility, if I understand. (...) It may be better but before you go give me whiskey and a cigarette, John. It seemed foolish but you both and he was naked, he was a boy younger than you but had a way to smile like yours, hair like yours, and I died in my hands.
(...) I was telling to me, telling me he drank and smoked all that, but I knew I did not care, that he had not never imported, what else was born at the time of death that had seemed my death, and then reached the doll and someone had dropped as someone he could ask a bloody castle or watch a home with a relief of a basilisk (...) while nothing was in place because if anything I could find was that Hélène and I would go down on any street corner or anywhere ...
62 / Model Kit

Les Puces de Clignancourt. Paris XVIII

About Place Stalingrad. Paris XIX




Montmartre. "Ciné 13." Avenue Junot. Paris XVIII

Rue Saint Louis en l'Ile. Paris IV

Museum of Arts and Trades. Paris III

Arcola Street. Paris IV

Louvre. Paris I

Kibbutz El deseo del ... >

Printable Invitations To Death Anniversary

had to know how to be alone ... Rocamadour

I really have to go, "Oliveira told a black cat, rue Danton. A certain aesthetic obligation, complete the picture. The three, Cifra. But do not forget to Orpheus. Perhaps rapándome, filling his head with ashes, to reach the bucket of alms. I am no longer the one we knew, oh women. Histrio. Mimo. Empusa night, Lamia, poor shadow of the great game final. How to be tired all the time yourself. Irretrievably. Do not see anymore, it is written. O toi that voilà, your fait qu'as of ta jeunesse? An inquisitor, that girl really gets each figure ... In any case a autoinquisidor, et encore ... Most just epitaph: Too soft. But soft is terrible inquisition, torture, semolina, tapioca fires, quicksand, sucking sneaky jellyfish. The jellyfish chulapa flooring. And deep pity too, I thought I heartless. You can not want what I want, and the way they want, and for good measure to share life with others. Had to know how to be alone and that both will do its work, save me or kill me, but without the rue Dauphine, without the boy died, without the Club and all the rest. "You do not believe, che?

The cat said nothing.
Rayuela, chap. 36

Rue des Cascades. Paris XX

Picasso Museum. Paris III

Notre Dame. Paris IV

Notre Dame. Paris IV

The Estrapade. ("¡Viva los solteros!") Paris V

Rue René Boulanger. Paris X

I killed you, John ... >