tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24656768696216217032024-03-14T02:29:43.200-07:00parque lague.etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465676869621621703.post-41181200729401778282009-09-05T18:14:00.000-07:002009-09-05T18:22:37.078-07:00Old Shoes, New House.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEOhZsFOyrq_rJ0KWGR0jla7E2Q1K43SYxRD2KGk9SRshdnd04xzvHBTvtfi2Bi3Ei0APeXEMUvkLesWtO1ZUnCoViDlymxd9Egy8cvgMl6sm1-6RK_BbwWYrWK4mImmO1DTx3I4N8cY/s1600-h/2507679118_ebc243a177.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 312px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5378158161423541362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEOhZsFOyrq_rJ0KWGR0jla7E2Q1K43SYxRD2KGk9SRshdnd04xzvHBTvtfi2Bi3Ei0APeXEMUvkLesWtO1ZUnCoViDlymxd9Egy8cvgMl6sm1-6RK_BbwWYrWK4mImmO1DTx3I4N8cY/s320/2507679118_ebc243a177.jpg" /></a><br /><div>"Cuando creíamos que teníamos todas las respuestas, </div><div>de pronto, cambiaron todas las preguntas" </div><div>M. Benedetti </div>etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465676869621621703.post-85354528617662350892009-08-22T20:52:00.000-07:002009-08-24T19:23:11.106-07:00How To Fly.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5JDo79FQ9I3MKyMao_NRcsak5rlWxRB_Y5sfkge9H80Ai2vKkWWh7k-8M5JcEQi6I9KF09hU-TXHrmhrr0fFVYiVWI0ak00DUAvCKjtMphiHHkfglJc-JZgVEDggj3vwY1HCCmhcjWv8/s1600-h/Yoko+Ono.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 248px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373002634827088514" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5JDo79FQ9I3MKyMao_NRcsak5rlWxRB_Y5sfkge9H80Ai2vKkWWh7k-8M5JcEQi6I9KF09hU-TXHrmhrr0fFVYiVWI0ak00DUAvCKjtMphiHHkfglJc-JZgVEDggj3vwY1HCCmhcjWv8/s320/Yoko+Ono.jpg" /></a><br /><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#339999;">1)</span> Make sure that your mind is not clogged with heavy burdens such as: <em>resentment, anger, secrets</em> and <em>the past</em>. </span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><div><br /></span></div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#339999;">2)</span> Make sure that your wings are light and free. This is the most difficult proposition. Your wings cannot be free unless the whole world is free, <em>because you are a part of the world. </em></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><em><br /></div></em></span><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;"><span style="color:#339999;">3) </span>However, there is a way for the whole world to be free. </span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;">When the whole world is in good circulation <em>we will all fly together.</em></span></div><div align="right"><em><span style="color:#339999;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">- Yoko Ono</span><br /></div></span></em>etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465676869621621703.post-34588592045732413702009-08-22T09:21:00.000-07:002009-08-22T09:25:55.720-07:00Like the clock that trembles on the hour.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oxDYfUlbku7_GuZyQVPm2a1QfwB840-TGQ3pDzujypgyIhvrLkFfANzRTUNyq3cP8UDfVuwh1UJeNymiZ5XFc336JUTwJ-KhsE_pFs6N0s4pqFBup7Q9hFwnYTF4b8B1Q1X-9ytgomA/s1600-h/syoin-kajii_4-1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 215px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5372824667447692178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8oxDYfUlbku7_GuZyQVPm2a1QfwB840-TGQ3pDzujypgyIhvrLkFfANzRTUNyq3cP8UDfVuwh1UJeNymiZ5XFc336JUTwJ-KhsE_pFs6N0s4pqFBup7Q9hFwnYTF4b8B1Q1X-9ytgomA/s320/syoin-kajii_4-1.jpg" /></a><br /><div><em><span style="color:#339999;">Every time you cross the borders of California, </span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="color:#339999;">it feels like you're crossing the borders of my heart..</span></em></div><br /><div><em><span style="color:#339999;"></span></em></div><br /><div></div>etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465676869621621703.post-75442719476607400152009-07-19T21:33:00.000-07:002009-08-22T09:26:16.839-07:00And your laugh is tale-telling.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyIZnWWjDBzHeofgn_qv9KFRUHDVk1v_0nYOwiOG6UJLNFBNyAnpawSYgsxX32QSVi9lt1so1YMzoGRE4mQnJvPnImgMUBti5Z9Wwb6xtXn9Bc5uctp6kbJeGWygH2c8-rRVU2YU3kkc/s1600-h/2757785644_213c177b74.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360399668366415554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivyIZnWWjDBzHeofgn_qv9KFRUHDVk1v_0nYOwiOG6UJLNFBNyAnpawSYgsxX32QSVi9lt1so1YMzoGRE4mQnJvPnImgMUBti5Z9Wwb6xtXn9Bc5uctp6kbJeGWygH2c8-rRVU2YU3kkc/s320/2757785644_213c177b74.jpg" /></a><br /><blockquote></blockquote><p align="left"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#666666;">"You can’t get inside somebody else’s skin. We’re all quite lonely. If art has a real function, then surely part of it must be as a way of communicating mind-to-mind, often in ways that language alone can’t manage. A piece of music can say things that words couldn’t. A genuine piece of art - we hear it or we see it - it makes us feel less alone" <em>-</em> <em>Aimee Bender.</em></span></p>etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2465676869621621703.post-29706088806418592322009-07-19T13:29:00.000-07:002009-07-30T21:47:37.344-07:00tget.<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTGF-gtgrLKu2NspeHLBg591Da70x9YDJ0DDp62KgTN4UIs3hX0BT790EK4AKQm7VmfvG1xoZ2m73sJqc8BZwDoD8AMsv1Ty48iNN4Aa89aonasaY8p8s6wGsfUl2ld8cv4GlDYcON20/s1600-h/Life%2520shrinks%2520or%2520expands%2520in%2520proportion%2520to%2520one's%2520courage.%5B1%5D.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360276521172346146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHTGF-gtgrLKu2NspeHLBg591Da70x9YDJ0DDp62KgTN4UIs3hX0BT790EK4AKQm7VmfvG1xoZ2m73sJqc8BZwDoD8AMsv1Ty48iNN4Aa89aonasaY8p8s6wGsfUl2ld8cv4GlDYcON20/s320/Life%2520shrinks%2520or%2520expands%2520in%2520proportion%2520to%2520one's%2520courage.%5B1%5D.jpg" /></a><em> </em><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;">I’ve seen your bravery, and I will follow you there.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#339999;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">A veces pienso que algunas personas no tienen capacidad de sentir lo suficiente. De esta manera, nunca les llega la sensacion de vivir. Ilusionarse, apasionarse, dar de si, preocuparse por otros, querer estar bien. Tal vez lo viven dentro de sus propios limites, y piensan que de esta manera se vive completo. Pero las cosas son solo momentaneas en este caso. Fases que se viven, experiencias que se ganan. Llegar al fondo, y darse cuenta de que las cosas terminan..</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666666;">Hoy empiezo a escribir porque siento necesidad de hacerlo. Porque quiero salir. Salir de mi cabeza, salir de mis ideas, salir de mi rutina, salir de mis temores. Quisiera sentir - he vivido muy poco en mis años cumplidos. Quiero pensar que puedo conmigo misma. En el intento esta la respuesta.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></div><div align="center"><a href="http://i25.photobucket.com/albums/c98/paulina427/Lifeshrinksorexpandsinproportiontoo.jpg"><span style="color:#666666;"></span></a></div>etphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00327667823029200861noreply@blogger.com2