Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta liminocentricity. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta liminocentricity. Mostrar todas las entradas

viernes, 14 de septiembre de 2007

Soul House. El Trono del Amor: Nuestro Vientre

¡Que bueno es encontrarte en mí,
quedar atrapada en tí,
henchido en mi vientre verde y oro, primavera, mariposas y maleza!

¡Que bueno es susurrar tu nombre al viento y que en algun lugar tu me sepas!

¡Que milagroso este infinito beso!

Te espero en Casa, por la habitación que aún no hemos construído.

Un Ladrillo

EARTHSHIP


This soul home we are building has all one way doors, and when you reach the center, you realize you are where you started. To enter our soul house, you must leave detachment by the door... you will find it again, at the core, in the bathroom in the yard, that is an exact replica of the surroundings. Come in. Breathe the joy, breathe the peace. Be still. Stay a while.

jueves, 13 de septiembre de 2007

Rag and Bone. The White Stripes

If you don't want it, we'll take it; if you don't want to give it to us, we keep walking by.
Keep going, we're not tired.
Got plenty of places to go, lots of homes we ain't been to yet.
West side, southwest side, middle-east, rich house, dog house, outhouse, old folks house, house for unwed mothers, halfway homes, catacombs, twilight zones.
Looking for techniques, turntables to gramophones.
So take a last lick of your ice cream cone.
And lock up what you still want to own.
But please be kind.
And don't rewind.
All of your pretty, your pretty little rags and bones.

miércoles, 12 de septiembre de 2007

Liminocentric child...

El niño busca su voz.
(La tenia el rey de los grillos.)
En una gota de agua
Buscaba su voz el niño.
No la quiero para hablar;
Me haré con ella un anillo
Que llevara mi silencio
En su dedo pequeñito.
En una gota de agua
Buscaba su voz el niño
(La voz cautiva, a lo lejos,
Se ponía un traje de grillo.)
o o o o o o
o o o o o o o o
o o o ''''''''''''o o o
o o o ''''''''''''o o o
o o o o o o o o
o o o o o o


F.García Lorca









P.S: Far enough, as close enough...

A man saw a ball of gold in the sky;
He climbed for it,
And eventually he achieved it --
It was clay.
Now this is the strange part:
When the man went to the earth
And looked again,
Lo, there was the ball of gold.
Now this is the strange part:
It was a ball of gold.
Aye, by the heavens, it was a ball of gold

1895
Stephen Crane

martes, 11 de septiembre de 2007

Punto G Punto

Lo vi desde la puerta... me fascinó, y eso que no era mi tipo. Petiso, morocho y bien parecido a las criaturas que encontraron en Roswell. Cabeza grande, cónica, ojos inmensos... esa mirada fija, enorme, delataba que estaba computando y al acecho. Lo de esa noche no fue un encuentro sagrado, sino una embestida celestial. Me senté en un taburete desde donde dominaba, a la distancia, la mitad del territorio. Yo lo miraba, el me observaba. Yo, desde mi escaño de diosa pagana, quería ver de que forma se iba a acercar. Comenzó a dar felinos recorridos en torno a mí, rondando. Absorta en el hechizo estaba cuando apareció una conocida de no se donde, a 40 centímetros de mi cara, y bloqueando, parecía que a propósito justo lo que yo quería ver. Las frases expeditivas del caso con la molesta, y paso a darle mi teléfono, que que bueno sería vernos otro día. No le llevó tanto tiempo darse cuenta, y miró sobre su hombro permitiendome ver... que G ya no estaba. Por una fracción de segundo me dispuse a renegar de mis ángeles, cuando veo que ella mira sobre mi hombro y casi al mismo tiempo oigo un susurro en mi oido: "¿Para que le diste tu teléfono? Tenés que aprender a decir No. No Quiero" Me sentí instantaneamente magnetizada. Me dijo un montón de otros aciertos esa noche, llevándose el galardón:

"Lo único que quiero... es hacerte mimos."

Quizás no parezca una frase para nobel de literatura. Pero nunca escuché tanta verdad en tan pocas palabras... ni tanto encanto.
Es cierto, tengo que aprender a decir que no... pero esa noche aprendí a decir que sí, porque tengo ganas.



La fiesta que tengo la llevo aquí,
la tengo, la llevo.

La Fiesta. Amparanoia

lunes, 10 de septiembre de 2007

SOUL HOUSE: The core


We started building our soul house by the core: the bathroom. The place for purification and soul renewal. I found this words by Thomas Moore on the web:

"The Greeks highlighted the theological dimensions of a bathroom in several stories of goddesses taking a bath. Artemis, the spirit of the pristine forest, takes a bath surrounded by a shield of wood nymphs. Hera goes to a spring to renew her virginity in a bath. But the most prominent goddess of the bathroom is Aphrodite. Sacred statues show her disrobing, removing her jewellery, drying off, and either sinking down in or rising up out of the water. They even had a name for the ritual of getting up out of water, something most of us do routinely after a bath: anadyomene, as much a sacred gesture as one of the Buddha's mudras.

Aphrodite is the spirit of beauty, body, sensuality and sexuality, love, pleasure, and adornment. It is her spirit, and not necessarily some egotistical urge, that moves us to spend time rubbing oils into the skin, brushing our hair, fussing over shampoos and soaps, and spending long periods in the tub or shower. These acts are genuine rituals in the spirituality of Aphrodite/Venus. They are holy actions, of extreme importance to the soul, making life pleasurable. When you take a bath, you soak your soul as well as your body.

Some identify spirituality with disregard for the simple pleasure of Venus. Maybe that is because Venus is a goddess or spirit of the deep soul rather than the sublime spirit. I might go so far as to say that good bathing might tame our tendencies toward violence. There is an ancient tradition that Venus calms the excited and warlike urges of Mars.

Just as a church might have a holy tabernacle and a Jewish temple sacred scrolls, so Aphrodite has her own spiritual implements: soaps, cosmetics, oils, fragrances, sponges, and towels. The tub is like a baptismal font, a good moisturiser, a kind of blessed oil. In Aphrodite's realm a luxurious towel may be as precious as a holy book.

Art also shows Venus holding a mirror. A mirror can be handy for passing narcissism, but it is also an instrument of Venus. Gazing at your face, your hair and your body, you are practising a Venusian form of yoga. In her 'church', taking time to care for your skin and your hair, not being frugal but rather extravagant, is a virtuous thing to do. To bring the Venusian spirit into your life, a way to increase the soul in your environment, you might look for a particularly beautiful and suitably ornate or stylistic mirror for your bathroom. Maybe more than one.

The simple act of disrobing is a Venusian gesture. It is probably difficult for most modern people to appreciate this shift in focus from shame to appreciation and from purity to sensuality. But to remain only in the religion of reserve and bodilessness is to deprive spirituality of its physicality, leaving it abstract and severe. Take away any degree of moralistic concern that has been forced on you, and see how the simple act of disrobing stirs your feelings.

I truly believe that the cultural decision in the West, centuries ago, to dissociate from all Venusian values in favour of an unnecessarily spartan spirituality was a devastating development for the spiritual lives of millions. It falsely separated body from spirit, thereby allowing no place for the soul.

I have said nothing about shaving or the toilet. These are too rich to include in a mere survey of the bathroom and each requires an essay of its own. But taken together they represent an important aspect of a soulful ecology. For a bathroom is a chamber of dreams. It could teach you, among other things, that spirituality is complete only when the body is fully present and engaged.

A good bathroom is a humanising thing, a gift of the gods and a spiritual necessity."

Thomas Moore was a Catholic monk. He is author of many books, including Care of the Soul and Dark Nights of the Soul.


P.S: engage yourself in plumbing matters... and travel through the pipes of desire.

domingo, 9 de septiembre de 2007

SOUL KITCHEN


WE
ARE
SHARING
SOUL
LOVE

Liminocentricity is where limits or thresholds can be centers simultaneously. It´s always a question of focus: close enough, as far enough... everything is nothing. God would be liminocentric: maximum complexity and maximum simplicity, because god is infinite, and infinite is identical in every point. It is the reason why we, being so far apart in space are simultaneously so close at soul level. The universe is liminocentric. And so is love.
A loving soul glows, every object touched by it's light, also starts to glow, and so on... so where is the original source of love? The web is infinite. The gods? Timeless photons lost and searching randomly, desperately in (cyber) space?

Here us, in our soul kitchen, trying to understand the chemistry, hoping not to lose the magic.

miércoles, 5 de septiembre de 2007

LIBIDOCÉNTRICA YO


Pienso en vos, si, vos el de la electricidad en los ojos, el del roce escalofriante, y se me hace un cortocircuito en un lugar redondo como un dorado botón mágico que se me planta en cada orificio, del lado de adentro. Pienso en vos y me siento una manta sólo para tu piel. Entonces pienso en telas y solo veo piel, y en vestidos y que baratos me van a salir porque casi no voy a precisar tela.
Pero la verdad es que cuando pienso en vos, ya casi no puedo pensar en nada más y me convierto en horus de fibra óptica, toda orificio, toda centro, toda umbral, toda circuito eléctrico y shock.