When I was imagining a tribute exhibition to Hugo Pratt's Corto Maltese in my mind.
I was thinking on how Hugo visioned women while loving them.
I remember reading several interviews and books by him and his female characters had dreams, desire and lots of passion.
Corto was Pratt and Hugo was Maltese and everybody knows that.
I've thought on a different narrative for this upcoming exhibition.
Watching Peaky Blinders tv series with the main actor Thomas Shelby with a broken heart being a gypsy, like Corto was, while listening in loop to Nick Cave's song "Red right hand" and all the versions of it by different musicians/bands trigered something on my head.
I've thought on writing poems to Russian women because some people say that they're cold, without emotions, that they seem lost in time and I wanted to know the true behind the myth.
I started talking and being with them for the past years and they're quite fascinating, be them artists, doctors or simple common women.
They're pretty and everybody knows this, but what people don't know is that most of them love nature, beauty and they carry their own memories in a small box inside their hearts.
Below are some poems that I've wrote in the moment to some Russian women who I admire and love a lot because since I was a child I was constantly dreaming of moving to Russia (maybe staying in Siberia in a wood cabin) with whiskey by my side while listening to wolves howling, trying to understand and figure out not what Russian women were telling me (because I don't understand Russian at all) but trying to enter on their minds, souls and that tiny box that they keep with their memories intact inside their hearts.
Corto and Hugo always mentioned the importance of women from different cultures in life, this is a sort of a tribute narrative to him because without words that form stories or tales (be them fictional or real), images have only half of their power.
Many thanks to all international artists that support some of my ideas or projects.
Special thanks to Russian women who I comunicate with, mainly Elena Pavlenka who I love, Mascara Girl, or Daria that's Bela and it's inside an Aria (but this is another project being developed inside my/her head/heart like can be
read in previous posts in this same blogue)
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| A Corto Maltese statue in Galicia, Elena and a quote by Peaky Blinders Tv series |
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| Tribute to Hugo Pratt's Corto Maltese by Indonesian Wendy Saber Core, a still with a saying by Australian singer Nick Cave for Peaky Blinders Tv series and Corto's character having a beer |
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| Anna Andreeva |
You told me that you were a poet and that was a fact...
I knew then that we weren't inside an act...
You shouted this to me:
- HEY MAN, LET'S SAIL THE SEA FOR FREE?
I was observing you inside a book with a look... You told me something about earth, wind, fire and ice...
I didn't knew which card to play because we weren't in may...
You told me that in streets there are no treats... You told me that a city wasn't born inside a storm...
I've gazed deeply into your eyes...
Jewels, gold, treasure, leisure didn't matter at all because we were in the Fall...
Your jacket was blue as if it was something new for true...
You told me about a rainy night and that you were in a strange fight...
You shouted this to me;
- HEY MAN, I WANT TO BE ME WITH THEE... We were pen lovers in a milestone deep inside our bone...
- Hey, this is me and you inside a story new...
You told me this while a bell ring...
I was listening to birds sing...
You told me that cure was gain inside a train in vain...
We were waiting for something to happen...
We were shouting loud at a crowd...
You were my shadow then...
I remember not being with a pen...
You were wearing my hat...
We were staring at a simple cat...
Your lips were cold made of gold...
Bodies were in sync when we were mirroring ink...
You were writing me a paper...
Telling me something about candy at handy...
You were a sigh...
You weren't a lie...
You told me:
- Come with me into the tree...
- Cover your eyes and let's be free...
Your hands weren't shaking, they were calm as a tree palm...
You were here...
I was there...
You told me about the sea...
You told me about you and me...
You told me to wear your coat...
You told me that it was more than a boat...
You told me to read something for you out of the blue...
I've wrote you something, knowing that maybe it was something new...
You were inside me and I was joy within thee... You called my name with no pain...
I was watching a movie with you and suddenly the stars were shining blue...
- Your eyes are true...
You said...
Be with me on some riverbed
Aida Nomad
You are watching me...
You are a shadow that glow inside a blow... Flowers cover your eyes with the scent of cherry pies...
You ask me this:
- Where's fury and the sound?
- Can we find it with a single pound?
I wasn't dancing with you then...
I wasn't counting till ten...
I wasn't flying high in the sky...
You're new...
You're not feeling blue...
Your hair is a riverbed of essence with presence... You continue telling me this:
- Hey Man, Saint Petersburg is filled with magic and it ain't tragic...
I was watching you for true...
You were telling me this:
- We're here...
- Not there...
- We've a chair...
- We know where to stare...
I wasn't understanding you then because my chest was filled with joy over a toy...
You shouted this to me:
- SHOW ME YOUR MIND...
- OPEN YOUR MIND...
- JUST BE KIND...
We were at a black river and we didn't felt any shiver...
We were inside a dance and you were telling me about a romance:
- A swamp is only a jump...
- They say that words must we pay...
I was thinking on your look while you were reading my book...
We aren't here or there...
We are in an hemisphere...
You told me about fiction and fact...
You told me in what to believe when religion was gone with a storm...
- God's dead...
You said this without sounding mad...
Your hands were holding a necklace and I've noticed that you were speckless...
You told me this:
- Come with me where the streets have no name...
- You'll see that in there no one's to blame...
I was following your footsteps while your dress was morphing itself with five elements...
- Earth, air, fire and water...
You said...
I counted four...
You told me that the fifth one was ether when people wanted more...
You told me something about a bone...
You asked me to wear my hat...
You covered your eyes with it inside a nap...
Your dream wasn't a scream...
You talked while sleeping:
- Kiss the sun...
- With me you must have fun...
I was staring at a bronze knight and he wasn't inside a fight...
Dostoievsky was reading a book inside a look... You woke up and told me this:
- Man, let's go out....
- I need to shout...
Daria inside an Aria
We go back...- We're always inside a hidden track...
You said.
The Fall was our call while you were staring at a statue in some wall...
You were kicking leaves and kissing mushrooms...
I was thinking about some brooms...
You told me this:
- Hey Man, the sun is fun...
- Let's go for a quick run...
Between you and me, there was space in a leaf spade... I didn't knew what to order you, so I've asked you:
- Wine?
You answered me that you were fine...
Honey drink was where you were sink...
You asked me this:
- Man, you know who I am...
- Let's be more than a simple glam...
Your long black hair was covering your shirt... Your mind wasn't dirt...
We went into a bookstore...
You asked me for a John Willie's book with your kind look...
I was feeling bizarre because my body wasn't far...
- Saint Petersburg...
- SAINT Petersburg...
- Saint PETERSBURG.
You were saying this while your lips were moving your own hips...
You weren't Dasha then...
You were Daria with a pen...
You weren't inside a car...
You weren't far...
You bought me coffee...
You bought me candy that was sugar and ice and everything that's nice...
You asked me to print Mickey Mouse in your blouse...
Your blue jeans put you deep inside your own dreams...
Your face was white when I've asked you about a bronze knight...
You were in the mood for food...
We entered in a restaurant where art was part of the heart...
Statues were by our side in a ride...
You were telling me this:
- Man, can I be your honey bee?
- You know that I love the sea...
You were mad at me then and you said:
- Leave here your backpack...
- Carry me on your back...
- I want to marvel the city where I was born that was built in a storm...
- Your legs were attached on my back and I didn't pay no mind when you said this to me:
- Hey Man, run with me...
- I'm small...
- You're tall...
- I'm flesh and bone...
- You're strong...
We weren't superheroes at all...
We were human beings by the Fall...
We were staring at the great white wall...
You told me this:
- Let's be pagan...
- We aren't Carl Sagan...
- Let's be brave...
- We're no people's slave...
Daria as Bela
We were reading a book...
You told me this:
- Man, don't give me that look...
I was observing you with a veil...
You told me something about a broken nail...
We were talking about cars and hillbilly songs that were bombs...
Suddenly you came into my direction and asked me this:
- Hey Man, where's your reaction?
You were being Audrey Horne in a mysterious dance without a thorn...
I was only being Philip lost in a romance...
You were telling me this:
- Man...
- Stand...
- Bend...
- Hand...
There was some sort of magic everywhere...
You told me that love was a sword...
I've asked you about a word...
You answered me this:
- Man, let's go out...
- I need to shout...
I went along with you...
What could I do when every single day you brought me something new?
Your hair was pretty as the sky...
Your lips were red as blood in some flood...
I was thinking that you were a vampire when you approached my neck behind my back...
You told me this:
- Hey Man, this is just a kiss...
I remember seeing a lipstick mark on it...
You told me this:
- Man, we both need to eat...
We were running in Saint Petersburg streets looking for treats...
You were my host and I was your ghost...
You told me that being here is being there...
You told me that you were hard to impress while wearing a black dress...
I was looking at your pretty face and said this to you:
- Hey Daria, come with me into a race...
You were acting nice with a cake slice and suddenly you were melting ice...
You were nice...
We were both eating rice...
We were both eating fish on a dish...
Your teeth were on my neck when I told you this:
- Hey darling, don't be bad, I need to feel your head...
My blood was everywhere in the atmosphere and deep inside a scream you told me this:
- Man, I just want to dream...
Alina as a dragon
There's a dragon's chest...
There's a nest...
We're near...
We don't doubt fear...
We're a simple coffee stain...
You ask me this:
- Hey Man, why are you inside my brain?
I answer you that your question is inside a pagan nation...
We're in the red square...
We're elsewhere...
We eat Asian food inside a peculiar mood...
We observe Fall without a call...
We watch a wandering star that's never far...
We're whatever we want to be...
We're a double shot without being hot...
We're wheels on a street where we both meet...
We aren't two because one is always something wrong on a song...
You tell me about chinese chop sticks...
You tell me about some freaks...
You tell me something about a band...
You tell me something without a bang...
We're in Moscow of old...
We never catch any cold...
We're strangers in a strange land mirroring our own hand...
You ask me something about your eyes...
You ask me something about ties...
You ask me about a photography without empathy...
You ask me if clothes are a necessary evil...
You ask me something feeble...
You ask me something about the rain with no pain...
You ask me something about you and me being free near the sea...
You ask me this:
- Hey Man, why do always have a mystery inside your own hand?
I look into your hair knowing that it brights light in the night...
You continue asking me this inside a shout:
- TELL ME?
- TELL ME?
- WILL WE FOREVER WANDER MOSCOW'S STREETS WITH ART ROAMING INSIDE OUR OWN HEART?
Valeria
I was there...
There was wine...
Everything was fine...
Your nails were sharp as a knife cutting bread slice...
You had the number of the beast inside your name with nobody to blame...
You were inside a ballet dance...
You told me about a seance...
I was scared then...
The devil appeared to us in the figure of a man...
You told me this:
- Hey Man...
- Grab my hand...
I was shaking because I knew that the evil wasn't you...
Your black hair was a shadow of you that was something new...
You asked me for a book...
You gave me that look...
There was a spell...
There was a belle...
There was your coat...
There was a watch that was a swatch...
There was a sign of no cigarette to smoke inside a joke...
Your lips were red...
You were telling me something about your bed... No water was being served in the bar...
You never were that far...
A song was on the air:
- Vamos a jugar por la playa...
You told me about the ancient Maya...
You told me about the holy grail...
You told me that it was inside a nail...
Your smile was wicked when I asked you how it was being treated...
Yellow was fun...
It was almost a gun...
You told me about Crowley in Moscow without a bow...
You whispered this on my right ear:
- Come and be still...
- I don't want to feel you ill...
I was sensing your blood pumping hard...
I was thinking about some mustard...
Your eyes were deep...
You told me where we should meet...
There was a secret cave that had a peculiar shave ..
- This is you, talking to me for free?
You asked me this.
Deep down inside my soul...
You told me that you would give me a kiss inside a rice bowl...
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