Quien

Cuánto vive el hombre, por fin?
Vive mil días o uno solo?
Una semana o varios siglos?
Por cuánto tiempo muere el hombre?
Qué quiere decir “Para siempre”?

(Pablo Neruda, Y cuánto vive)

Quien: http://www.trilulilu.ro/ABBAfan/4d7c85d4f9d0a4

Saigon

Moto : « Ici, l’horizon libre de toutes parts

et, bien au-delà de l’horizon silencieux et désert,

encore du désert et du silence.» (Jules Boissiere)

«Ruta curselor regulate de la Marsilia la Port-Saïd si canalul de Suez, Djibouti, Colombo, Singapore, capul Saint-Jacques şi apoi, confuz, râul Saïgonului, se înscriseseră dintru începuturi pe faţa călătorului de secol trecut ca un blestem resemnat într-o carte albă de rugăciuni »

(Andrada Fatu,

Prima fraza dintr-o critifictiune nescrisa)

Nostalgia

"La vida no es la que uno vivió, sino lo que uno recuerda y cómo la recuerda para contarla"(Gabriel García Márquez)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hpBBunULe4

On prend toujours un train pour quelque part...

http://www.trilulilu.ro/codrea/ceb78f8a371dac

"Une gare au petit matin, Deux amours se tiennent la main.Ils sont tristes ou ils sont heureux.On n'en sait rien, mais ils sont deux. La vie c'est ça, tu le sais bien :Un train s'en va, un autre vient.On prend toujours un train pour quelque part,Un grand train bleu, un grand train blanc, un grand train noir.On prend toujours un train pour quelque part.Au bout du quai flottent des mains et des mouchoirs.Toi et moi, nous irons très loin.On s'aimera tant et si bienQue le monde entier n'en sauraNi le comment ni le pourquoi.Un jour, les derniers jours viendront.Nous prendrons le dernier wagon.On prend toujours un train pour quelque part,Un grand train bleu, un grand train blanc, un grand train noir.On prend toujours un train pour quelque part.Au bout du quai flottent des mains, des au revoir."

Gilbert Bécaud

On prend toujours un train pour quelque part
Paroles: Louis Amade. Musique: Gilbert Bécaud 1968

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AC1zTSMICac

Bonjour Tristesse

It seems to me that there are two kinds of trickery: the "fronts" people assume before one another's eyes, and the "front" a writer puts on the face of reality. Francoise Sagan

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjNkrlLiJQg&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5scv2QJQ-ds&feature=related

Exil

…Por una razón u otra, yo

soy un triste

desterrado. De alguna manera

o de otra, yo

viajo con nuestro territorio y

siguen viviendo

conmigo, allá lejos, las

esencias longitudinales

de mi patria.

Pablo Neruda

From the fabric of life novels are made...

...A novel is a long and patient proposition, like embroidering a tapestry of many threads and colors. I work by instinct, without knowing very well what I am doing, until one day I turn it over and look at the design. I never really end a book, I just give up. There is always more to tell, another twist in the plot, another surprising character, more that could be changed, edited or deepened. A story is a living creature with it's own destiny and my job is to allow it to tell itself. I enjoy the process of writing without thinking much of the final result. That's my agent and my publishers' concern...
I love the time I spend alone and in silence in my study, weeks adding details to create the unique world of the story, months allowing the characters to grow and to talk for themselves, years trying to understand their motivations and their passions. A novel requires passion, patience and dedication, it is a total commitment, like falling in love. For me the first impulse that triggers the writing is always a profound emotion that has been with me for a long time; time reveals the motivations and gives me enough distance, ambiguity and irony to narrate it. It is difficult to write in the middle of the hurricane, it is preferable to recreate the story after the furious winds have passed and I can make some sense of the debris. Struggle, losses, confusion, memory, those are the raw materials of my writing.

Isabel Allende, About My Writing
http://www.isabelallende.com/curious_frame.htm