People have been asking who the artist is, but the artist wants to remain anonymous. He said he wants to be my personal artist. Here’s another drawing he’s done, this is one of my favorites, it turns me on seeing paintings of my ass. 😏
This is a traditional song from Catalonia about a group of bandits chased by the authorities. Like it happends with most traditional songs, there are different versions of the lyrics, but all of them explain the same story. I will translate this version, as sang by Marina Rossell.
The names of places mentioned in this song are real places in the north of Catalonia.
–Quina cançó cantarem
“What song will we sing
que tots la coneguem? that we all know?”
–La dels contrabandistes. “The one about the bandits.
Que a Banyuls varen anar Who went to Banyuls
de tabac a carregar to load with tobacco
tota una companyia. a whole company.”
Però en passar per Fortià, But when they passed by Fortià,
de front varen topar they ran straight into
amb el temut espia, the feared spy,
que a Figueres se’n va anar who went to Figueres
a contar-ho al capità: to tell the captain:
–N’he vist contrabandistes. “I have seen bandits.”
A man participates in a hair exhibition during the 8th annual Afro hairstyle contest in Cali, Colombia. An event that is held during the month of may which aims to highlight the traditions, culture and history of Afro Colombians.
MOTTA CAMASTRA – STUDIO CERAMICHE ARAGONA E FERRITO.
DIARIO INUTILE – Pagina 11 ; Alla fine, resti solo tu, nel mezzo di tutte queste alienazioni che il mondo, il lavoro, i moderni Erodi fanno crescere in noi, si salva solo questo angolo dove ci sei tu, questo tabernacolo nascosto nella parte più fragile di me che contiene il tuo nome, le tue labbra, i tuoi occhi, il profilo della tua anima, il motivo del mio amore. Ora ecco il mondo può seguire il suo ordinato caos, ricoprire di oro i propri idoli, comprarsi il paradiso in una carta stagnola, pensare che l’amore inizi con un profilattico, cosi che alle vecchie tristi stagioni potranno seguirne altre a loro simili, cosi che nei volti degli uomini si scolorino i tratti dei giusti, la pioggia preceda il sole e poi lo segua, potremo attraversare i deserti infuocati dall’egoismo e uccidere il diritto con le urla, ma tu, tu resterai qui, in quest’angolo dentro di me dove racchiudo il Verbo, la differenza tra le tenebre e la luce, solo tu tra tanto e tra tutti, perché tutto quello che costruiamo non conosce l’eternità, ma quello che proviamo, ce lo dona.
In the end, only you remain, in the midst of all these alienations that the world, the work, the modern Herods grow in us, you save only this corner where you are, this tabernacle hidden in the most fragile part of me that contains the your name, your lips, your eyes, the profile of your soul, the reason for my love. Now the world can follow its ordered chaos, cover its idols with gold, buy paradise in a foil, think that love begins with a condom, so that the old sad seasons can follow other copies of them, so that in the faces of men the traits of the righteous are discolored, the rain precedes the sun and then follows it, we can cross the deserts burnt by selfishness and kill the right with the screams, but you, you stay there, in this corner of me where I enclose the Word, the difference between darkness and light, only you between time and place, because everything we build does not know eternity, but what we feel gives it to us
BellezzoNero 