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    lunes, mayo 20, 2013

    Miércoles 22 de mayo, sesión extraordinaria en Lo doy porque quiero

    (por Ley de la República de Colombia)

    El Calendario Radial RADAR es una síntesis gráfica en la que codifiqué el tiempo y el espacio. Suena demente, pero gracias a los astrónomos de la Sociedad Antioqueña de Astronomía y a la Facultad de Astronomía de la Universidad de Antioquia, eso ya no suena a "esta pelada se enloqueció".

    El 1º de septiembre de 2011 hablé sobre el calendario radial RADAR ( en este espacio –que me encanta y al que vengo cada vez que puedo– de Lo doy porque quiero.

    Esta vez estaré hablando sobre el calendario, su evolución y la relación entre éste y la Ley 1619 de 2013 en homenaje a Manuel Mejía Vallejo, la cual, en su Artículo 2 contempla la realización anual de un Festival de Cosas Buenas, el cual funcionará con el Calendario radial RADAR.

    Este espacio, Lo doy porque quiero comenzará a hacer parte oficial del Festival de Cosas Buenas, pues es precisamente este tipo de cosas las que queremos conectar por medio del mismo. 

    Los invito, pues a participar y a divertirnos y a ver otra forma de ver el tiempo y el espacio y las acciones en este tiempo y en este espacio que nos tocó.
    La dirección (que es la de Calle 9+1) 

    7:30 pa empezar a las 8:00 p.m.

    ¡Qué dicha!

    ps. para los que no puedan asisitir físicamente, acá está la posibilidad de verlo en streaming: 

    domingo, mayo 12, 2013

    Whoever You are, Holding Me now in Hand

    WHOEVER you are, holding me now in hand,
    Without one thing, all will be useless,
    I give you fair warning, before you attempt me further,
    I am not what you supposed, but far different.

    Who is he that would become my follower?         
    Who would sign himself a candidate for my affections?

    The way is suspicious—the result uncertain, perhaps destructive;
    You would have to give up all else—I alone would expect to be your God, sole and exclusive,
    Your novitiate would even then be long and exhausting,
    The whole past theory of your life, and all conformity to the lives around you, would have to be abandon’d;  
    Therefore release me now, before troubling yourself any further—Let go your hand from my shoulders,
    Put me down, and depart on your way.
    Or else, by stealth, in some wood, for trial,
    Or back of a rock, in the open air,
    (For in any roof’d room of a house I emerge not—nor in company,
    And in libraries I lie as one dumb, a gawk, or unborn, or dead,)
    But just possibly with you on a high hill—first watching lest any person, for miles around, approach unawares,
    Or possibly with you sailing at sea, or on the beach of the sea, or some quiet island,
    Here to put your lips upon mine I permit you,
    With the comrade’s long-dwelling kiss, or the new husband’s kiss,
    For I am the new husband, and I am the comrade.
    Or, if you will, thrusting me beneath your clothing,
    Where I may feel the throbs of your heart, or rest upon your hip,
    Carry me when you go forth over land or sea;
    For thus, merely touching you, is enough—is best,  
    And thus, touching you, would I silently sleep and be carried eternally.
    But these leaves conning, you con at peril,
    For these leaves, and me, you will not understand,
    They will elude you at first, and still more afterward—I will certainly elude you,
    Even while you should think you had unquestionably caught me, behold!  
    Already you see I have escaped from you.
    For it is not for what I have put into it that I have written this book,
    Nor is it by reading it you will acquire it,
    Nor do those know me best who admire me, and vauntingly praise me,
    Nor will the candidates for my love, (unless at most a very few,) prove victorious,  
    Nor will my poems do good only—they will do just as much evil, perhaps more;
    For all is useless without that which you may guess at many times and not hit—that which I hinted at;
    Therefore release me, and depart on your way.

    – Walt Whitman (1819–1892)Leaves of Grass1900

    Whitman… Whitman… gracias, Whitman, desde siempre.