Passage from ‘E. T. A. Hoffmann’s ‘Kreisleriana”

When we speak of music as an independent art, we should properly
refer only to instrumental music which, scorning the assistance and
association of another art, namely poetry, expresses that peculiar property
which can be found in music only. It is the most romantic of all the
arts, one might almost say the only really romantic art, for its sole
object is the expression of the infinite. The lyre of Orpheus opens
the doors of Orkus. Music discloses to man an unknown kingdom, a
world having nothing in common with the external sensual world which
surrounds him and in which he leaves behind him all definite feelings in
order to abandon himself to an inexpressible longing.

Full txt.

From Valley to Valley

It has been too long since my last publication here on all in good health, a move from the Abúrra Valley, Medellín to Mexico City is finally complete and now settled in which will soon begin an offering of new texts, reviews and findings all circulating around the subjects I want to write about. Settling into new environments can be tiring, finding favourite stores, restaurants, cafés and clubs all become a trial an error process which can often detract focus from writing, darting my eyes around and taking in the surroundings feels a better use of time during the exploration phase of a new environment.

It was only yesterday that I ventured to the MoMA in Chapultepec Park, Mexico City to where works from the Mexican photographer Antonio Caballero were being exhibited –  I had not come across him previously and found myself struck by his earlier works for they were less set-up portrait style images he was come to be known as in his later career that had a large focus around the emerging celebrity culture and their visits to Mexico. Very little of his imagery is available on the internet for viewing but one photo was taken that I really appreciated accompanies this post of the gentleman or Caballero.


Leave Means Leave, but what else is there?

When you wake up in the morning, you get out of bed, perhaps have a shower, a little breakfast, maybe read the paper or a book, prepare for the day – you pack your bag, keys wallet phone and you leave the house. Well the Leave means Leave campaigners don’t do this, they get up straight away and just leave the house – “LEAVE” they utter to themselves, now they are outside in their pants, alone – knocking on neighbours for help but nobody is in – they’ve gone to work, or nobody wants to answer to the person wandering the streets in their underwear shouting ‘somebody help’. There you are, in your pants – unable to get back inside.