Itchy Red Bumps On Stomach

Synesthesia delusional

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A whole team of Delirio

Dēlirãtio-onis f.: delirium, extravagance, and dementia.
rave 1 intr.: Rave, or say or do crazy antics. Nonsense.
Dēlirus -a-um, crazy, bizarre
(Spes Dictionary Latin-English / English Latino. Madrid, 1965)

"It is never late if that is good" , "All the saints have octave" , "All's well that ends well" , "Better late than never ..." "It was not until ad kalendas graeca" ...

In all these phrases before, I let them choose which one they like. Yes, this post comes with great delay, which everyone is preparing the next issue but it's more business as usual and I'm tired of repeating myself .. The countess often late, wrong and never ... but it comes.

is not the first time, nor the last, that this blog is talk of delirium. First and foremost because the magazine is incredibly good. But also because the director, publishers, editors, typesetters, scouts, the whole team going, does its job beautifully and so all I know personally (except Paco), I admire them, I have affection or love them directly lot. And because it assist people who also know, admire and love. I could give many more reasons but I still think that with these (it will cost me to get used to not accentuate the pronouns) are more than enough. In summary, quality, professionalism, many hours of work and love (the one of them to their work and mine for them) are reason enough to bring her here every time a new issue comes to light.

And this time he played the number 7 and the theme was "The 7 Deadly Sins." That's nothing. As the movement by doing, so far, here are the complete issue:

Open publication - Free publishing - More plastic
( Double click and hojéenla ojéenla and big, you deserve it)

Have you taken a look? Would you like it? I I bet the bonds of turquoise and ivory bodice so. But let me be as little as always and objective stories or illustrations hint that further rest. On page 16 they will find a small but precious text Izaskun Legarza. A bit further, in the 20 and then 74 and 75, several collaborations of Sue D. Marin (sorry Sue, but I have your blog address. Pets murmurs). And following the thread, at 55, the first-but no less splendid collaboration of Rafael García Almazán . A little later, someone very special poem: Manuel Ortiz (I can not provide link because the two posts are closed and well you feel), p. 77. Our MegaMag Gemma Pellicer dissected one by one the sins with seven short, precise and inquitantes texts between 102 and 103. Finally Oscar Varona left us an excellent essay between 123 and 125.

And if after all that they please stop by my collaboration, 96, does not need to look for that to facilitate the task of self-promotion and what I bring here is the whole piece and with illustrations that , clear, complete and complementary.

See

first four photographs. They can then get the relatillo between chest and back. If you then entertained with music and slides I can assure you will enjoy great entertainment.

Some preliminary details. The text is somewhat tremebundo, but in my humble opinion and belief, totally accurate. The Baroque style of the style and twisting of the case are attributable solely to the countess, who already know that is Rarita and extravagant.

The photos were taken by her over several months and at a time when the Museo del Prado did not deprive both the interest nor the desire mercantilist monetary concerns, well above issues artistic and quality, as now and always quietly could photograph not use flash or tripod. I assure you that at times and in the dim light of the room was not easy to take still fairly decent and will notice that in the slideshow. But I used to be a pretty good idea of \u200b\u200bhow to place images in the text. If you give them to expand, enjoy the details almost as much as I enjoyed making me.

The second point is on the music. I tried searching and sometimes contemporary pieces, to strictly contemporary of the two Flemish masters. I do not know if they will enjoy, but it also will help them be at a time and a place where love, life, religion, death intermingled, interposed, is hindered and acquired renders the side by side each other, in all artistic.

and let me stories and give way to images, text and music into a delirious and sinful synesthesia.

FLAMENCO TABLE

- "Cave Cave Deus videt" ...

myself I can hear that phrase repeated like a litany, but I can not just see if there is enough light ... This irritates me dirty blue, translucent and deep that I am forming ...

- "Beware, beware. God sees you "goes the chant tools I grow arms, legs, trunk and head disembodied ... I fail to take delight. I ether fade, stupidly amorphous and inconclusive. At least I do not feel pain but cold ... Clearly begin to see an empty room. Maybe it is night.

Now I can move, walk in my appearance of liquid smoke ... And to turn around and suddenly, I felt it my work ... This room may even belong to me ... The Garden of Earthly Delights ... The Temptation of Antonio ... The Hay Wain ...

And of course ... is also the table ... The table in attitude and position of table ... As instructed me, as I imagined, as I was forced to give life, as I felt before painting ... The Bureau of the Seven Deadly Sins of Jeroen van Aken ... El Bosco ... Mine.

not listen to those who say that cash had a helper, a slave of the brush in my name and me. This table from beginning to end was mine. I saw it, the gesture and the pari drawing and painting. Turn around and return it to me and then immersed in the fierce and dilated pupil. I divided the iris, the sins permeable compartments. Forged with the late oil in their eyes external ... I suffered, the vomit ... I did it.

Step by step represents the envy in idle criticism looming in the square in the shadow of the dogs ... the anger weapons in the violent peasant and the monk fools ... the pride crouching behind the mirror and the Wolf ignorant of doors and windows open. And profile, corrected, gave color to the lust pale intriguing among perfumes, music and trees concealing ... But the laziness and gluttony , interior sins propagators of new disorders to the love of idleness and a misunderstood tolerance. If I continue my back about it, and then I remember clearly the last and worst of all ... the greed c on its charge of petty shortsightedness, of hoarding honor and possessions. Unavailable, muddy and flooded everything ...

Giro

rotation around the table and its abject tangle, as the world has been doing without me for five centuries ... And nothing has changed. There is the stigma of this table flamenco. The teaching that I thought, that transitions to the wood with oil pigments and not worth anything. The gap is appalling that produces the sterility of the taught and their efforts useless. What helped my belief in a God who watches everything? It did not help ... because I was wrong to create such a huge eye embedded in the table. Only real iris. The aftermath involving the critical eye of the eyeball icon everlasting are just fakes ... "The move towards real life, hell, final trial, the glory? .. Do not make me laugh. The false starts in the first one to the love of the inert bed, the edge of the doorway. When I described the imagined and put my faith in what he did. But I cheated ... I cheated ... and perhaps I cheated on you unintentionally.

Behind the dying there is no angel nor devil fighting over the soul for a nonexistent doomsday .. because there is eternal fire, limbo and paradise. Look at her well ... Behind the curtain, after the head of that journey will take only a skeleton toothless and angry, waiting and abstruse ... And if as you are watching insolent face that I see looking up, you would find the key ...

Look at the front, on the opposite wall. Here's the answer ...

... in Table spectral overshadows mine. The one who followed me and developed my work ... Does it sound the old Brueghel? Wander through the surface of ivory bones guide boats, cars ... That skinned, reap, push and entice ... Trailing fire and conviction ... Wheels causing torment in crisp and on top, in forks ... That pillage, torture, rape, dismember.

Él y no yo tenía razón. Detrás del lecho mortuorario donde quiera que éste nos sorprenda y nos tome, no hay nada más que un ser sin el menor asomo de piedad... Él no... Ella... Solo ella triunfa. Después de ella no hay más que oscuridad, vacío... Nada

Yo mismo ni siquiera existo. Soy solo el esperpento reflejado en la mente de un loco, el aspaviento de la mediocridad, el último coletazo del dolo y del engaño, apenas un espectro desvaído... Me diluyo... Me deshago... Ya casi no soy si acaso fui.

Cuando el camino acabe razón tendréis para temerla. Porque ella será la única que os espere al borde silence ... Ugly, hideous, old, thin, black. Willing to sever, break, break, end ... There is nothing more ... No more ... Nothing

When you cross the other side of the mirror only death will embrace you with her cold fingers and sound ... "

VV.AA. The Songbook of Hieronymus Lauweryn (the Songbook of Hieronymus Lauweryn. Egidius Kwartet & Consort. Et'Cetera, 2006.

Jeroen van acken (El Bosco) - The Bureau of Seven Deadly Sins

VV.AA. Music in the Age of El Greco (Music in times of El Greco). Music Museum. The Metropolitan Museum of Art The National Gallery. London, 2003.

Brueghel the Elder - The Triumph of Death

I can not complain, with text, music and pictures to fill. Enjoy them while you can because life is short and full of potholes.

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