tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88896904184612652322012-02-16T01:26:33.389-08:00jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.comBlogger91100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-89958716440121804892007-05-29T16:46:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:04.260-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlzApiAFFsI/AAAAAAAAADU/nOzM_LzHCsM/s1600-h/P1120080.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070139100246644418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlzApiAFFsI/AAAAAAAAADU/nOzM_LzHCsM/s400/P1120080.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición VII</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 60cm x 75cm</span><br /><br /><br /> <span style="color:#6633ff;"> Detalles</span><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly-gyAFFrI/AAAAAAAAADM/G-DFNdwx8sY/s1600-h/P1120081.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070136750899533490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly-gyAFFrI/AAAAAAAAADM/G-DFNdwx8sY/s400/P1120081.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly83iAFFqI/AAAAAAAAADE/4_N0X6oAMgI/s1600-h/P1120087.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070134942718301858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly83iAFFqI/AAAAAAAAADE/4_N0X6oAMgI/s400/P1120087.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"> <span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="color:#ff0000;"> Madre, es oscura la noche<br /> Y es tanta la lluvia<br /> En este invierno maldito<br /> Que me dan ganas de volver y desafiar<br /> La más desafiante soledad<br /> De una página en blanco<br /> Sin el más mínimo temor<br /> De llenarla con palabras sencillas<br /> Y gastadas como tus manos<br /><br /> Elicura Chihuailaf</span></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"> </span><br /></span><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-8995871644012180489?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-69369674320472383282007-05-29T16:17:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:04.845-08:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly5uyAFFpI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JXnx7aprDNI/s1600-h/P1120072.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070131493859563154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly5uyAFFpI/AAAAAAAAAC8/JXnx7aprDNI/s400/P1120072.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición VII</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 60cm x 75cm</span><br /><br /><br /> <span style="color:#6633ff;"> Detalles</span><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly4BiAFFoI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DpD-Gm436v8/s1600-h/P1120076.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070129616958854786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly4BiAFFoI/AAAAAAAAAC0/DpD-Gm436v8/s400/P1120076.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly2TCAFFnI/AAAAAAAAACs/j6HlAlXdFN0/s1600-h/P1120077.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070127718583309938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rly2TCAFFnI/AAAAAAAAACs/j6HlAlXdFN0/s400/P1120077.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> En qué no se parecen la separación y la muerte.<br /> Nos acostumbramos a ellas por igual,<br /> Pero el tiempo se encarga de los muertos y la memoria trabaja<br /> Limpiamente y en paz en lo que a ellos respecta;<br /> Mientras que esta tarea se duplica<br /> Cuando no hay una tumba de por medio<br /> Y la memoria se confunde con el proyecto de un crimen.<br /><br /> Enrique Lihn</span><br /><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-6936967432047238328?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-24136644764452099932007-05-29T15:14:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:05.245-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyyECAFFmI/AAAAAAAAACk/m-B1rvO84hk/s1600-h/P1120062.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070123062838761058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyyECAFFmI/AAAAAAAAACk/m-B1rvO84hk/s400/P1120062.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición VI</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 60cm x 75cm</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#6633ff;"> Detalles</span><br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyv5CAFFlI/AAAAAAAAACc/shdT6ogswUM/s1600-h/P1120069.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070120674836944466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyv5CAFFlI/AAAAAAAAACc/shdT6ogswUM/s400/P1120069.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlynMyAFFkI/AAAAAAAAACU/viru2yfzS6w/s1600-h/P1120067.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070111118534710850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlynMyAFFkI/AAAAAAAAACU/viru2yfzS6w/s400/P1120067.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div><br /> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"> <span style="color:#ff0000;">La cruz de Cristo en mi cara,<br /> La cruz de Cristo en mi oreja.<br /> La cruz de Cristo en mi espalda,<br /> La cruz de Cristo en mi vientre.<br /><br /> Mugron Dixit</span></span><br /><br /><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-2413664476445209993?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-30497059411273544572007-05-29T14:42:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:06.492-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyjhiAFFjI/AAAAAAAAACM/5QqSfCpw1UY/s1600-h/P1120049.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070107076970485298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyjhiAFFjI/AAAAAAAAACM/5QqSfCpw1UY/s400/P1120049.JPG" border="0" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">Composición V</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> 59cm x 79cm</span><br /><br /><br /> <span style="color:#6633ff;">Detalles</span><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyhsyAFFiI/AAAAAAAAACE/DleBxp7Jc0E/s1600-h/P1120052.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070105071220758050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyhsyAFFiI/AAAAAAAAACE/DleBxp7Jc0E/s400/P1120052.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyf4CAFFhI/AAAAAAAAAB8/KeiDdkD6oCs/s1600-h/P1120053.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070103065471030802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyf4CAFFhI/AAAAAAAAAB8/KeiDdkD6oCs/s400/P1120053.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div><span style="font-size:78%;color:#ff0000;"> He viajado a través de un país de hombres,<br /> Un país de hombres y también de mujeres,<br /> Y he oído y visto tan horrendas cosas<br /> Como nunca los caminantes de la fría tierra han conocido.<br /><br /> William Blake</span><br /><br /><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-3049705941127354457?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-91990626714561168852007-05-29T14:15:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:07.048-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyc4CAFFgI/AAAAAAAAAB0/YVxdoXcO348/s1600-h/P1120043.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070099766936147458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlyc4CAFFgI/AAAAAAAAAB0/YVxdoXcO348/s400/P1120043.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición IV</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 75cm x 60cm</span><br /><br /><br /> <span style="color:#6633ff;">Detalles</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlybHiAFFfI/AAAAAAAAABs/8-ukDd9uQJU/s1600-h/P1120045.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070097834200864242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlybHiAFFfI/AAAAAAAAABs/8-ukDd9uQJU/s400/P1120045.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyZXiAFFeI/AAAAAAAAABk/__fbzeEnAFY/s1600-h/P1120046.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070095910055515618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyZXiAFFeI/AAAAAAAAABk/__fbzeEnAFY/s400/P1120046.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"> <span style="font-size:85%;">Sobre viejas raíces dormía un sueño nudoso. Sobre las </span></span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> ramas, mis hermanos oreaban sus largas trenzas. El viento se </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> había calmado. Luego, de repente, empezó un abandono </span></div><div><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> gigantesco.<br /><br /> Gellu Naum<br /></span><br /></div><div><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-9199062671456116885?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-63678050155889095602007-05-29T13:37:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:07.608-08:00<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyVmCAFFdI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZYUrG-vgVcA/s1600-h/P1120031.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070091761117107666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyVmCAFFdI/AAAAAAAAABc/ZYUrG-vgVcA/s400/P1120031.JPG" border="0" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición III</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 57cm x 75cm</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#3366ff;"> Detalles</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyTVCAFFcI/AAAAAAAAABU/RcyYg1R4j38/s1600-h/P1120034.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070089270036075970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyTVCAFFcI/AAAAAAAAABU/RcyYg1R4j38/s400/P1120034.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyRLCAFFbI/AAAAAAAAABM/0NbmRd1IDNo/s1600-h/P1120033.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070086899214128562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlyRLCAFFbI/AAAAAAAAABM/0NbmRd1IDNo/s400/P1120033.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /> <span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;">Vendrá la muerte y tendrá tus ojos<br /> Ésta muerte que nos acompaña<br /> De la mañana a la noche, insomne,<br /> Sorda, como remordimiento antiguo<br /> O como vicio absurdo<br /><br /> Cesare Pavese</span><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-6367805015588909560?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-59964001810761390292007-05-29T12:05:00.001-07:002008-12-10T10:59:08.261-08:00<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx9syAFFaI/AAAAAAAAABE/9lqwJhNX7Nw/s1600-h/P1120038.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070065488802157986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx9syAFFaI/AAAAAAAAABE/9lqwJhNX7Nw/s400/P1120038.JPG" border="0" /></a> <br /> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición II</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espátula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 75 cm x 60 cm</span><br /><br /> <span style="color:#6633ff;">Detalles</span><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx8FiAFFZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/v27iRCZ0SBk/s1600-h/P1120042.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070063714980664722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx8FiAFFZI/AAAAAAAAAA8/v27iRCZ0SBk/s400/P1120042.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx6vyAFFYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/v0DmW1S97Cw/s1600-h/P1120041.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070062241806882178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx6vyAFFYI/AAAAAAAAAA0/v0DmW1S97Cw/s400/P1120041.JPG" border="0" /></a> </div><div align="left"> <span style="font-size:85%;"> <span style="font-family:georgia;"> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Una página en blanco un cuerpo de mujer</span></span></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> El signo penetrando en la hoja</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Las palabras que quieres decir y no puedes</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> La escritura el amor</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Euforia pasajera que trueca en desánimo y pena</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Un cuerpo que deseas como entrar en el mar</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> El deseo haciendo oleaje en tu cuerpo</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> El lenguaje la máscara el ocultamiento</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Nuestros cuerpos acercándose al sol</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Una página en blanco garabateada un cuerpo de mujer que mojas </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Eso era todo, si, eso era todo</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Ahora te vas, ahora dejas de escribir</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> El mismo vacío</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Las misma ganas de olvidarlo todo.</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Ricardo Herrera Alarcón<br /></span><br /></span><br /></div><div><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><tbody><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-5996400181076139029?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-73728896197218093422007-05-29T11:10:00.000-07:002008-12-10T10:59:08.879-08:00<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx09iAFFXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/dP6qf3m1p88/s1600-h/P1120011.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070055880960316786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlx09iAFFXI/AAAAAAAAAAs/dP6qf3m1p88/s400/P1120011.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div> <span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;">Composición I</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> Óleo con espatula sobre madera</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#ff0000;"> 75 cm X 90cm.</span><br /> <br /><div align="left"> <span style="color:#3366ff;">Detalles<br /></span><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070052187288442210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlxxmiAFFWI/AAAAAAAAAAk/DV9y8k2lOr8/s400/P1120023.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><p align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070050250258191698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/Rlxv1yAFFVI/AAAAAAAAAAc/eknJawCTasM/s400/P1120024.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sí, es cierto, gaste mis codos en todos los mesones</span><p></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Me amaron las doncellas pero preferí a las putas</span></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quizás nunca debí haber dejado</span></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ff0000;">El país de techos de zinc y cercos de madera</span></p><p align="left"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Jorge Teillier</span><br /><br /></p><tbody><br /><br /><br /><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></td></tr><br /><br /><br /><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><br /><br /><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><br /><br /><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></p></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-7372889619721809342?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8889690418461265232.post-35757968185947691842007-05-29T08:12:00.000-07:002008-12-10T10:59:09.135-08:00<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlxJWSAFFTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/I_Ndt3cgGGY/s1600-h/P1120130.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070007927650456882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_dplyMdW9RhY/RlxJWSAFFTI/AAAAAAAAAAM/I_Ndt3cgGGY/s400/P1120130.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><table id="HB_Mail_Container" height="100%" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" width="100%" border="0" unselectable="on"><p><br /><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Nací en el sector costero de Karawe, 8 de Agosto de 1961</span> <p></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">IX región Chile, ….eso creo o me hicieron creer….</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">“….cuando Chile todavía no era una lagrima colgando del </span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">ojo sudamericano…</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">”Desde mi infancia y mi juventud me he sentido parte de </span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">los perros románticos:</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">En aquel tiempo yo tenía veinte años</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y estaba loco.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Había perdido un país</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Pero había ganado un sueño</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y si tenía ese sueño</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Lo demás no importaba.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Ni trabajar ni rezar</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Ni estudiar en la madrugada</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Junto a los perros románticos.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y el sueño vivía en el vació de mi espíritu.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Una habitación de madera,</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">En penumbras,</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">En unos de los pulmones del trópico.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y a veces me volvía dentro de mí</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y visitaba el sueño: estatua eternizada</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">En pensamientos líquidos,</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Un gusano blanco retorciéndose</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">En el amor.Un amor desbocado.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Un sueño dentro de otro sueño.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y la pesadilla me decía: crecerás.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Dejaras atrás las imágenes del dolor y del laberintoY olvidarás.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Pero en aquel tiempo crecer hubiera sido un crimen.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Estoy aquí, dije, con los perros románticos</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">Y aquí me voy a quedar.</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#ff0000;">( Roberto Bolaño)<br /></span></p><tbody><br /><tr height="100%" width="100%" unselectable="on"><br /><td id="HB_Focus_Element" valign="top" width="100%" background="" height="250" unselectable="off"><br /><div></div></td></tr><br /><tr unselectable="on" hb_tag="1"><br /><td style="FONT-SIZE: 1pt" height="1" unselectable="on"><br /><div id="hotbar_promo"></div></td></tr></tbody></p></table><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8889690418461265232-3575796818594769184?l=jrmkarawe.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>jrm.karawehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18299951047142697346noreply@blogger.com1