ฮ–ฯ‰ฮฝฯ„ฮฑฮฝฮฎ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ ฮฑฯ†ฮทฮณฮทฮผฮฑฯ„ฮนฮบฮฎฯ‚ ฮนฮฑฯ„ฯฮนฮบฮฎฯ‚: ฮšฯ…ฯฮนฮฑฮบฮฎ 30 ฮ‘ฯ€ฯฮนฮปฮฏฮฟฯ…, 7:30 ฮผ.ฮผ. EEST

ฮฃฮฑฯ‚ ฮตฯ…ฯ‡ฮฑฯฮนฯƒฯ„ฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯ€ฮฟฯ… ฯƒฯ…ฮผฮผฮตฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ‡ฮฑฯ„ฮต ฯƒฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎฮฝ ฯ„ฮท ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ.

ฮงฮฟฯฮฟฮณฯฮฑฯ†ฮฏฮฑ: “ฮœฮทฮฝ ฮตฮณฮบฮฑฯ„ฮฑฮปฮตฮฏฯ€ฮตฮนฯ‚” (ฮ“ฮนฮฟฮฝ ฮœฯ€ฮฟฯ…ฯฮถฮฟฯ…ฮฌ)ย 

ฮœฮฟฯ…ฯƒฮนฮบฮฎ ฯƒฯฮฝฮธฮตฯƒฮท: “ฮฆฮตฮณฮณฮฑฯฯŒฯ†ฯ‰ฯ„ฮฟ” (ฮšฮปฮฟฮฝฯ„ ฮฯ„ฮตฮผฯ€ฮนฯƒฮฏ) – ฮตฮบฯ„ฮญฮปฮตฯƒฮท: ฮ‘ฮปฮตฮพฮฌฮฝฯ„ฯ ฮ˜ฮฑฯฯŒ (ฯ€ฮนฮฌฮฝฮฟ)

ฮธฮญฮผฮฑ: “ฮ“ฯฮฌฯˆฯ„ฮต ฮณฮนฮฑ ฮผฮฏฮฑ ฮดฮตฯฯ„ฮตฯฮท ฮตฯ…ฮบฮฑฮนฯฮฏฮฑ”

ฮฃฯฮฝฯ„ฮฟฮผฮฑ ฮธฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯ€ฮตฯฮนฯƒฯƒฯŒฯ„ฮตฯฮตฯ‚ ฯ€ฮปฮทฯฮฟฯ†ฮฟฯฮฏฮตฯ‚ ฯƒฯ‡ฮตฯ„ฮนฮบฮฌ ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎฮฝ ฯ„ฮท ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ, ฮณฮน โ€˜ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฯŒ ฮตฯ€ฮนฯƒฯ„ฯฮญฯˆฯ„ฮต ฮพฮฑฮฝฮฌ.

ฮฃฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฯฮฟฯƒฮบฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต ฯ„ฮฑ ฮณฯฮฑฯ€ฯ„ฮฌ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮฑฮถฮฏ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฌฯ„ฯ‰.

ฮšฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯŒฮปฮตฯ‚ ฮบฮฑฮน ฯŒฮปฮฟฯ…ฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฟฯ… ฯƒฯ…ฮผฮผฮตฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ‡ฮฑฯ„ฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต ฯŒฯƒฮฑ ฮณฯฮฌฯˆฮฑฯ„ฮต ฮบฮฑฯ„ฮฌ ฯ„ฮท ฮดฮนฮฌฯฮบฮตฮนฮฑ ฯ„ฮทฯ‚ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฌฯ„ฯ‰ (โ€œLeave a replyโ€) ฮบฮฑฮน ฮฝฮฑ ฮบฯฮฑฯ„ฮฎฯƒฮฟฯ…ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎ ฯ„ฮทฮฝ ฯ„ฯŒฯƒฮฟ ฮตฮฝฮดฮนฮฑฯ†ฮญฯฮฟฯ…ฯƒฮฑ ฯƒฯ…ฮถฮฎฯ„ฮทฯƒฮฎ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฮถฯ‰ฮฝฯ„ฮฑฮฝฮฎ, ฯ…ฯ€ฮตฮฝฮธฯ…ฮผฮฏฮถฮฟฮฝฯ„ฮฌฯ‚ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚, ฮฒฮตฮฒฮฑฮฏฯ‰ฯ‚, ฯŒฯ„ฮน ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎ ฮตฮฏฮฝฮฑฮน ฮผฮนฮฑ ฮดฮทฮผฯŒฯƒฮนฮฑ ฯ€ฮปฮฑฯ„ฯ†ฯŒฯฮผฮฑ ฮบฮฑฮน ฮท ฯ€ฯฯŒฯƒฮฒฮฑฯƒฮท ฮฑฮฝฮฟฮนฯ‡ฯ„ฮฎ ฯƒฯ„ฮฟ ฮบฮฟฮนฮฝฯŒ.

ฮ˜ฮฑ ฮธฮญฮปฮฑฮผฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฌฮธฮฟฯ…ฮผฮต ฯ€ฮตฯฮนฯƒฯƒฯŒฯ„ฮตฯฮฑ  ฮณฮนฮฑ ฯ„ฮทฮฝ ฮตฮผฯ€ฮตฮนฯฮฏฮฑ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮญฯ‚ ฯ„ฮนฯ‚ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮตฯ‚. ฮ‘ฮฝ ฯ„ฮฟ ฮตฯ€ฮนฮธฯ…ฮผฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต, ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฮฑฯ†ฮนฮตฯฯŽฯƒฯ„ฮต ฮปฮฏฮณฮฟ ฯ‡ฯฯŒฮฝฮฟ ฯƒฮต ฮผฮนฮฑ ฯƒฯฮฝฯ„ฮฟฮผฮท ฮญฯฮตฯ…ฮฝฮฑ ฮดฯฮฟ ฮตฯฯ‰ฯ„ฮฎฯƒฮตฯ‰ฮฝ!

ฮ‘ฮบฮฟฮปฮฟฯ…ฮธฮฎฯƒฯ„ฮต ฯ„ฮฟฮฝ ฯƒฯฮฝฮดฮตฯƒฮผฮฟ:ย https://tinyurl.com/nmedg-survey



Encuentros virtuales en vivo: Sรกbado 29 de abril, 13:00 EDT

Nos reunimos 6 personas, desde Tenerife, Valencia, Manhattan, y Argentina.

La obra que hemos leรญdo y analizado es cuento corto โ€œEl Besoโ€, de Galeano (Uruguay).

Una de las participantes notรณ el contraste del tรญtulo con el sujeto del cuento. Y preguntรณ porque Antonio Pujรญa se atreviรณ a cambiar la memoria de alguien, de al menos dos personas, en los cambios que le hizo a la lรกpida. Tambiรฉn surgiรณ la pregunta: ยฟSerรก que el aรฑo del fin de los dos son los mismos? Galeano nos deja esa incertidumbre.

Otra persona no entiende como es que el escultor, Antonio Pujรญa, no ve lo que hay debajo del mรกrmol. Es un artista y claro que tiene que ver o saber lo que hay ahรญ. Ninguna escultura estรก terminada. 

El cuento le trajo a la mente a un participante los โ€œprioggiโ€ de Miguel รngel, como el mรกrmol encierra la obra prisionera. Se preguntรณ: ยฟserรก que es del escultor o de la piedra? ยฟQuรฉ ocurre dentro de los libros cuando estรกn cerrados? ยฟAcaso el compositor oye la sinfonรญa entera en su cabeza antes de escribirla, o surge y se crea en tiempo real? Como decรญa Frank Zappa, se nos da a cada uno un periodo de tiempo y la posibilidad de adornarlo. Y se notรณ que ninguna escultura estรก acabada. ยฟSerรก que es la piedra la que manda, no el escultor?

Pensando que Galeano puso el โ€œaรฑo del finโ€ en vez del โ€œaรฑo de la muerteโ€, alguien se preguntรณ, ยฟy si el โ€œaรฑo del finโ€ es el aรฑo del fin de la relaciรณn y no el aรฑo de la muerte? ยฟSerรก que ordenรณ una lรกpida para el final de una relaciรณn?

Aun otro participante propone que la lรกpida pudo haber sido de dos personas, en diferentes tiempos, en diferentes lados de la lรกpida.

ยฟY por quรฉ ese tรญtulo? Es un beso frio, o de despedida. El debate fue multifacรฉtico y rico.

La propuesta de escritura fue โ€œEscribe sobre un momento en que viste lo inesperadoโ€. Se escribiรณ de los rostros, en la sombra del texto. Otras escrituras en la sombra, una participante escribiรณ de no saber de la incapacidad de la persona con quien estaba hablando. Habรญa memorias de la niรฑez y momentos traumรกticos. Un texto tenรญa capas de momentos inesperados. Otro texto nos recordรณ que cuando alguien viene hablar con nosotros, pensamos que es por algo negativo en vez de pensar que puede ser por algo positivo.

Aquรญ, ahora alentamos a los participantes que, si asรญ lo desean, compartan lo que escribieron a continuaciรณn. Deja tu respuesta aquรญ, si deseas continuar la conversaciรณn sobre el cuento corto de โ€œEl Besoโ€, Galeano. Pero antes, les recomendamos tener en cuenta que el blog es un espacio pรบblico donde, por supuesto, no se garantiza la confidencialidad.

Por favor, รบnase a nosotros en nuestra prรณxima sesiรณn en espaรฑol: El sรกbado 20 de mayo a las 13 hrs. o a la 1 pm EST.

ยกEsperamos verte pronto!


El beso, Galeano (Uruguay)

โ€œAntonio Pujรญa eligiรณ, al azar, uno de los bloques de mรกrmol de Carrara que habรญa ido comprando a lo largo de los aรฑos.
Era una lรกpida. De alguna tumba vendrรญa, vaya a saber de dรณnde; รฉl no tenรญa la menor idea de cรณmo habรญa ido a parar a su taller.

Antonio acostรณ la lรกpida sobre una base de apoyo, y se puso a trabajarla. Alguna idea tenรญa de lo que querรญa esculpir, o quizรก no tenรญa ninguna. Empezรณ por borrar la inscripciรณn: el nombre de un hombre, el aรฑo del nacimiento, el aรฑo del fin.

Despuรฉs, el cincel penetrรณ el mรกrmol. Y Antonio encontrรณ una sorpresa, que lo estaba esperando piedra adentro: la veta tenรญa la forma de dos caras que se juntaban, algo asรญ como dos perfiles unidos frente a frente, la nariz pegada a la nariz, la boca pegada a la boca. El escultor obedeciรณ a la piedra. Y fue excavando, suavemente, hasta que cobrรณ relieve aquel encuentro que la piedra contenรญa.

Al dรญa siguiente, dio por concluido su trabajo. Y entonces, cuando levantรณ la escultura, vio lo que antes no habรญa visto. Al dorso, habรญa otra inscripciรณn: el nombre de una mujer, el aรฑo
del nacimiento, el aรฑo del fin. โ€œ

ยฉ2021 AlbaLearning (All rights reserved)

Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT April 28th 2023

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem Instructions on Not Giving Up” by Ada Limรณn, posted below.

Our prompt was: โ€œStart with ‘Iโ€™ll take it all.’โ€

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โ€œLeave a Replyโ€), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโ€™re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday May 5th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


"Instructions on Not Giving Up" by Ada Limรณn

More than the fuchsia funnels breaking out
of the crabapple tree, more than the neighborโ€™s
almost obscene display of cherry limbs shoving
their cotton candy-colored blossoms to the slate
sky of Spring rains, itโ€™s the greening of the trees
that really gets to me. When all the shock of white
and taffy, the worldโ€™s baubles and trinkets, leave
the pavement strewn with the confetti of aftermath,
the leaves come. Patient, plodding, a green skin
growing over whatever winter did to us, a return
to the strange idea of continuous living despite
the mess of us, the hurt, the empty. Fine then,
Iโ€™ll take it, the tree seems to say, a new slick leaf
unfurling like a fist to an open palm, Iโ€™ll take it all.

Copyright ยฉ 2017 by Ada Limรณn. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on May 15, 2017, by the Academy of American Poets.

Our 300th Live Virtual Group Session! 6PM EDT April 17th 2023

Thank you to everyone who joined us to celebrate our *300th* virtual group session!

For this session we read a poem “Small Kindnesses” by Danusha Lamรฉris, posted below.

Our prompt was:ย โ€œBegin with the word ‘Strangersโ€ฆ‘โ€

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โ€œLeave a Replyโ€), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโ€™re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday April 28th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


"Small Kindnesses" by Danusha Lamรฉris        
 
Iโ€™ve been thinking about the way, when you walk
down a crowded aisle, people pull in their legs
to let you by. Or how strangers still say โ€œbless youโ€
when someone sneezes, a leftover
from the Bubonic plague. โ€œDonโ€™t die,โ€ we are saying.
And sometimes, when you spill lemons
from your grocery bag, someone else will help you
pick them up. Mostly, we donโ€™t want to harm each other.
We want to be handed our cup of coffee hot,
and to say thank you to the person handing it. To smile
at them and for them to smile back. For the waitress
to call us honey when she sets down the bowl of clam chowder,
and for the driver in the red pick-up truck to let us pass.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
What if they are the true dwelling of the holy, these
fleeting temples we make together when we say, โ€œHere,
have my seat,โ€ โ€œGo aheadโ€”you first,โ€ โ€œI like your hat.โ€

The New York Times (9/19/2019),   Bonfire Opera



Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT April 10th 2023

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem “On the Road Home” by Wallace Stevens, posted below.

Our prompt was: โ€œBegin withโ€ฆ ‘it was when you said.’โ€

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โ€œLeave a Replyโ€), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโ€™re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Monday April 17th at 6pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


"On the Road Home" by Wallace Stevens

It was when I said,
โ€œThere is no such thing as the truth,โ€
That the grapes seemed fatter.
The fox ran out of his hole.

You . . . You said
โ€œThere are many truths,
But they are not parts of a truth.โ€
Then the tree, at night, began to change,

Smoking through green and smoking blue.
We were two figures in a wood.
We said we stood alone.

It was when I said,
โ€œWords are not forms of a single word.
In the sum of the parts, there are only the parts.
The world must be measured by eyeโ€;

It was when you said,
โ€œThe idols have seen lots of poverty,
Snakes and gold and lice,
But not the truthโ€;

It was at that time, that the silence was largest
And longest, the night was roundest,
The fragrance of the autumn warmest,
Closest and strongest.

Credit: Wallace Stevens. 

Live Virtual Group Session: 12PM EDT April 7th 2023

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we took a close look at “La Flor Blanca (1944)” by Josรฉ A. Bencomo Mena, posted below.

Our prompt was: โ€œWrite about finding peace when danger lurks.โ€

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โ€œLeave a Replyโ€), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโ€™re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Monday April 10th at 6pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


“La Flor Blanca (1944)” by Josรฉ A. Bencomo Mena

Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes | Mediart | 2017 ยฉ


Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EDT April 3rd 2023

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read a poem The Lifeguard ” by James L. Dickey, posted below.

Our prompt was: โ€œStepping out from the earth onto the water, I โ€ฆ.โ€

More details will be posted on this session, so check back again!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (โ€œLeave a Replyโ€), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if youโ€™re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday April 7th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.


"The Lifeguard " by James L. Dickey

In a stable of boats I lie still,
From all sleeping children hidden.   
The leap of a fish from its shadow   
Makes the whole lake instantly tremble.   
With my foot on the water, I feel   
The moon outside

Take on the utmost of its power.
I rise and go out through the boats.   
I set my broad sole upon silver,
On the skin of the sky, on the moonlight,   
Stepping outward from earth onto water   
In quest of the miracle

This village of children believed   
That I could perform as I dived
For one who had sunk from my sight.   
I saw his cropped haircut go under.   
I leapt, and my steep body flashed   
Once, in the sun.

Dark drew all the light from my eyes.   
Like a man who explores his death
By the pull of his slow-moving shoulders,   
I hung head down in the cold,
Wide-eyed, contained, and alone
Among the weeds,

And my fingertips turned into stone   
From clutching immovable blackness.   
Time after time I leapt upward
Exploding in breath, and fell back   
From the change in the childrenโ€™s faces   
At my defeat.

Beneath them I swam to the boathouse   
With only my life in my arms
To wait for the lake to shine back
At the risen moon with such power   
That my steps on the light of the ripples   
Might be sustained.

Beneath me is nothing but brightness   
Like the ghost of a snowfield in summer.   
As I move toward the center of the lake,   
Which is also the center of the moon,   
I am thinking of how I may be
The savior of one

Who has already died in my care.   
The dark trees fade from around me.   
The moonโ€™s dust hovers together.   
I call softly out, and the childโ€™s
Voice answers through blinding water.   
Patiently, slowly,

He rises, dilating to break
The surface of stone with his forehead.   
He is one I do not remember
Having ever seen in his life.
The ground I stand on is trembling   
Upon his smile.

I wash the black mud from my hands.   
On a light given off by the grave   
I kneel in the quick of the moon   
At the heart of a distant forest   
And hold in my arms a child   
Of water, water, water.

Source: James Dickey: The Selected Poems (Wesleyan University Press, 1998).

ฮ–ฯ‰ฮฝฯ„ฮฑฮฝฮฎ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ ฮฑฯ†ฮทฮณฮทฮผฮฑฯ„ฮนฮบฮฎฯ‚ ฮนฮฑฯ„ฯฮนฮบฮฎฯ‚: ฮšฯ…ฯฮนฮฑฮบฮฎ 2 ฮ‘ฯ€ฯฮนฮปฮฏฮฟฯ…, 7:30 ฮผ.ฮผ. EEST

ฮฃฮฑฯ‚ ฮตฯ…ฯ‡ฮฑฯฮนฯƒฯ„ฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯ€ฮฟฯ… ฯƒฯ…ฮผฮผฮตฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ‡ฮฑฯ„ฮต ฯƒฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎฮฝ ฯ„ฮท ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ.

ฮœฮฟฯ…ฯƒฮนฮบฮฎ: “ฮœ’ ฮฑฯฮญฯƒฮตฮน ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮท ฮปฮญฯ‰ ฯ€ฮฟฮปฮปฮฌ” (ฮฅฯ€ฯŒฮณฮตฮนฮฑ ฮกฮตฯฮผฮฑฯ„ฮฑ)

ฮธฮญฮผฮฑ: “ฮ“ฯฮฌฯˆฯ„ฮต ฮณฮนฮฑ ฯ„ฮท ฯ†ฮฟฯฮฌ ฯ€ฮฟฯ… ฮท ฯ†ฯ‰ฮฝฮฎ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮตฮฝฯŽฮธฮทฮบฮต ฮผฮต ฯ„ฮนฯ‚ ฯ†ฯ‰ฮฝฮญฯ‚ ฯ„ฯ‰ฮฝ ฮฌฮปฮปฯ‰ฮฝ”.

ฮฃฯฮฝฯ„ฮฟฮผฮฑ ฮธฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯ€ฮตฯฮนฯƒฯƒฯŒฯ„ฮตฯฮตฯ‚ ฯ€ฮปฮทฯฮฟฯ†ฮฟฯฮฏฮตฯ‚ ฯƒฯ‡ฮตฯ„ฮนฮบฮฌ ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎฮฝ ฯ„ฮท ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑ, ฮณฮน โ€˜ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฯŒ ฮตฯ€ฮนฯƒฯ„ฯฮญฯˆฯ„ฮต ฮพฮฑฮฝฮฌ.

ฮฃฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฯฮฟฯƒฮบฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต ฯ„ฮฑ ฮณฯฮฑฯ€ฯ„ฮฌ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮฑฮถฮฏ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฌฯ„ฯ‰.

ฮšฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฯŒฮปฮตฯ‚ ฮบฮฑฮน ฯŒฮปฮฟฯ…ฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฟฯ… ฯƒฯ…ฮผฮผฮตฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ‡ฮฑฯ„ฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฟฮนฯฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต ฯŒฯƒฮฑ ฮณฯฮฌฯˆฮฑฯ„ฮต ฮบฮฑฯ„ฮฌ ฯ„ฮท ฮดฮนฮฌฯฮบฮตฮนฮฑ ฯ„ฮทฯ‚ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฌฯ„ฯ‰ (โ€œLeave a replyโ€) ฮบฮฑฮน ฮฝฮฑ ฮบฯฮฑฯ„ฮฎฯƒฮฟฯ…ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎ ฯ„ฮทฮฝ ฯ„ฯŒฯƒฮฟ ฮตฮฝฮดฮนฮฑฯ†ฮญฯฮฟฯ…ฯƒฮฑ ฯƒฯ…ฮถฮฎฯ„ฮทฯƒฮฎ ฮผฮฑฯ‚ ฮถฯ‰ฮฝฯ„ฮฑฮฝฮฎ, ฯ…ฯ€ฮตฮฝฮธฯ…ฮผฮฏฮถฮฟฮฝฯ„ฮฌฯ‚ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚, ฮฒฮตฮฒฮฑฮฏฯ‰ฯ‚, ฯŒฯ„ฮน ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮฎ ฮตฮฏฮฝฮฑฮน ฮผฮนฮฑ ฮดฮทฮผฯŒฯƒฮนฮฑ ฯ€ฮปฮฑฯ„ฯ†ฯŒฯฮผฮฑ ฮบฮฑฮน ฮท ฯ€ฯฯŒฯƒฮฒฮฑฯƒฮท ฮฑฮฝฮฟฮนฯ‡ฯ„ฮฎ ฯƒฯ„ฮฟ ฮบฮฟฮนฮฝฯŒ.

ฮ˜ฮฑ ฮธฮญฮปฮฑฮผฮต ฮฝฮฑ ฮผฮฌฮธฮฟฯ…ฮผฮต ฯ€ฮตฯฮนฯƒฯƒฯŒฯ„ฮตฯฮฑ  ฮณฮนฮฑ ฯ„ฮทฮฝ ฮตฮผฯ€ฮตฮนฯฮฏฮฑ ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮผฮต ฮฑฯ…ฯ„ฮญฯ‚ ฯ„ฮนฯ‚ ฯƒฯ…ฮฝฮตฮดฯฮฏฮตฯ‚. ฮ‘ฮฝ ฯ„ฮฟ ฮตฯ€ฮนฮธฯ…ฮผฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต, ฯ€ฮฑฯฮฑฮบฮฑฮปฮฟฯฮผฮต ฮฑฯ†ฮนฮตฯฯŽฯƒฯ„ฮต ฮปฮฏฮณฮฟ ฯ‡ฯฯŒฮฝฮฟ ฯƒฮต ฮผฮนฮฑ ฯƒฯฮฝฯ„ฮฟฮผฮท ฮญฯฮตฯ…ฮฝฮฑ ฮดฯฮฟ ฮตฯฯ‰ฯ„ฮฎฯƒฮตฯ‰ฮฝ!

ฮ‘ฮบฮฟฮปฮฟฯ…ฮธฮฎฯƒฯ„ฮต ฯ„ฮฟฮฝ ฯƒฯฮฝฮดฮตฯƒฮผฮฟ: https://tinyurl.com/nmedg-survey



Encuentros virtuales en vivo: Sรกbado 1 de abril, 13:00 EDT

Nos reunimos 8 personas, desde Tenerife, Manhattan, Argentina, Dallas y Colombia.

La obra que hemos analizado es la pintura โ€œEl Mundo de Cristinaโ€, de Andrรฉs Wyeth.”

Una de las participantes refiere que le impresiona de una mujer caรญda, mirando, hacia lo que parece un refugio. Le llama la atenciรณn los colores. La protagonista parece que se estรก arrastrando. Genera ambivalencia: estรก tratando de escapar o tratando de llegar a algรบn sitio. Transmite fragilidad: los brazos finos, que no parece que se pueda levantar. Otro participante notรณ que el cuadro muestra dos mundos: uno tiene el pasto cortado y limpio, e incluye la vivienda. Es la parte cuidada. Es el mundo de la zona de confort. Parece que la muchacha estรก fuera de ese mundo de confort. No sabemos por quรฉ estรก fuera. Quizรก se fue voluntariamente a ir mรกs allรก, o quizรกs no puede llegar. Tal vez estรก escondiรฉndose, se agacha y mira hacia los edificios. Es una posiciรณn de alerta. No sabemos si viene o va del salvaje a lo desconocido.
No tenemos la cara. No sabemos exactamente quiรฉn es Cristina. Parece haberse escondido. Su postura es muy irreal.

Una de las participantes refiere que le impresiona de una mujer caรญda, mirando, hacia lo que parece un refugio. Le llama la atenciรณn los colores. La protagonista parece que se estรก arrastrando. Genera ambivalencia: estรก tratando de escapar o tratando de llegar a algรบn sitio. Transmite fragilidad: los brazos finos, que no parece que se pueda levantar. Otro participante notรณ que el cuadro muestra dos mundos: uno tiene el pasto cortado y limpio, e incluye la vivienda. Es la parte cuidada. Es el mundo de la zona de confort. Parece que la muchacha estรก fuera de ese mundo de confort. No sabemos por quรฉ estรก fuera. Quizรก se fue voluntariamente a ir mรกs allรก, o quizรกs no puede llegar. Tal vez estรก escondiรฉndose, se agacha y mira hacia los edificios. Es una posiciรณn de alerta. No sabemos si viene o va del salvaje a lo desconocido.
No tenemos la cara. No sabemos exactamente quiรฉn es Cristina. Parece haberse escondido. Su postura es muy irreal.

Aquรญ, ahora alentamos a los participantes que si asรญ lo desean, compartan lo que escribieron a continuaciรณn. Deja tu respuesta aquรญ, si deseas continuar la conversaciรณn. Pero antes, les recomendamos tener en cuenta que el blog es un espacio pรบblico donde, por supuesto, no se garantiza la confidencialidad.

Por favor, รบnase a nosotros en nuestra prรณxima sesiรณn en espaรฑol: El sรกbado 22 abril a las 13 hrs. o a la 1 pm EDT. Tambiรฉn, ofrecemos sesiones en inglรฉs. Ve a nuestra pรกgina de sesiones grupales virtuales.

ยกEsperamos verte pronto!


El mundo de Christina por Andrew Wyeth

ยฉ 2023 The Museum of Modern Art