"Je ne suis pas une femme, je suis un monde. Mes vêtements n’ont qu’à tomber, et tu découvriras sur ma personne une succession de mystères !" (G. Flaubert, La tentation de Saint Antoine)
mardi 15 juin 2010
dimanche 30 mai 2010
jeudi 27 mai 2010
Hälfte des lebens
"Mit gelben Birnen hänget
Und voll mit wilden Rosen
Das Land in den See,
Ihr holden Schwäne,
Und trunken von Küssen
Tunkt ihr das Haupt
Ins heilignüchterne Wasser.
Weh mir, wo nehm' ich, wenn
Es Winter ist, die Blumen, und wo
Den Sonnenschein,
Und Schatten der Erde?
Die Mauern stehn
Sprachlos und kalt, im Winde
Klirren die Fahnen."
(Hölderlin, 1803)
lundi 17 mai 2010
O ! How I love, on a fair summer's eve...
O ! How I love, on a fair summer's eve
When streamsof light pour down the golden west,
And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds, far - far away to leave
All meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
From little cares; to find, with easy quest,
A fragant wild, with Nature's beauty dressed,
And there inti delight my soul deceive.
There warm my breast with patriotic lore,
Musing on Milton's fate - on Sidney's bier -
Till their stern forms before my mind arise:
Perhaps on the wing of Poesy upsoar,
Full often dropping a delicious tear,
When some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes.
John Keats, été 1816
When streamsof light pour down the golden west,
And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds, far - far away to leave
All meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
From little cares; to find, with easy quest,
A fragant wild, with Nature's beauty dressed,
And there inti delight my soul deceive.
There warm my breast with patriotic lore,
Musing on Milton's fate - on Sidney's bier -
Till their stern forms before my mind arise:
Perhaps on the wing of Poesy upsoar,
Full often dropping a delicious tear,
When some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes.
John Keats, été 1816
samedi 10 avril 2010
Waiting, by Faith Wilding (1971)
Waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting . . .
Waiting for someone to come in
Waiting for someone to hold me
Waiting for someone to feed me
Waiting for someone to change my diaper
Waiting . . .
Waiting to scrawl, to walk, waiting to talk
Waiting to be cuddled
Waiting for someone to take me outside
Waiting for someone to play with me
Waiting for someone to take me outside
Waiting for someone to read to me, dress me, tie my shoes
Waiting for Mommy to brush my hair
Waiting for her to curl my hair
Waiting to wear my frilly dress
Waiting to be a pretty girl
Waiting to grow up Waiting . . .
Waiting for my breasts to develop
Waiting to wear a bra
Waiting to menstruate
Waiting to read forbidden books
Waiting to stop being clumsy
Waiting to have a good figure
Waiting for my first date
Waiting to have a boyfriend
Waiting to go to a party, to be asked to dance, to dance close
Waiting to be beautiful
Waiting for the secret
Waiting for life to begin
Waiting . . .
Waiting to be somebody
Waiting to wear makeup
Waiting for my pimples to go away
Waiting to wear lipstick, to wear high heels and stockings
Waiting to get dressed up, to shave my legs
Waiting to be pretty
Waiting . . .
Waiting for him to notice me, to call me
Waiting for him to ask me out
Waiting for him to pay attention to me
Waiting for him to fall in love with me
Waiting for him to kiss me, touch me, touch my breasts
Waiting for him to pass my house
Waiting for him to tell me I’m beautiful
Waiting for him to ask me to go steady
Waiting to neck, to make out, waiting to go all the way
Waiting to smoke, to drink, to stay out late
Waiting to be a woman
Waiting . . .
Waiting for my great love
Waiting for the perfect man
Waiting for Mr. Right
Waiting . . .
Waiting to get married
Waiting for my wedding day
Waiting for my wedding night
Waiting for sex
Waiting for him to make the first move
Waiting for him to excite me
Waiting for him to give me pleasure
Waiting for him to give me an orgasm
Waiting . . .
Waiting for him to come home, to fill my time Waiting . . .
Waiting for my baby to come
Waiting for my belly to swell
Waiting for my breasts to fill with milk
Waiting to feel my baby move
Waiting for my legs to stop swelling
Waiting for the first contractions
Waiting for the contractions to end
Waiting for the head to emerge
Waiting for the first scream, the afterbirth
Waiting to hold my baby
Waiting for my baby to suck my milk
Waiting for my baby to stop crying
Waiting for my baby to sleep through the night
Waiting for my breasts to dry up
Waiting to get my figure back, for the stretch marks to go away
Waiting for some time to myself
Waiting to be beautiful again
Waiting for my child to go to school
Waiting for life to begin again
Waiting . . .
Waiting for my children to come home from school
Waiting for them to grow up, to leave home
Waiting to be myself
Waiting for excitement
Waiting for him to tell me something interesting, to ask me how I feel
Waiting for him to stop being crabby, reach for my hand, kiss me good morning
Waiting for fulfillment
Waiting for the children to marry
Waiting for something to happen Waiting . . .
Waiting to lose weight
Waiting for the first gray hair
Waiting for menopause
Waiting to grow wise
Waiting . . .
Waiting for my body to break down, to get ugly
Waiting for my flesh to sag
Waiting for my breasts to shrivel up
Waiting for a visit from my children, for letters
Waiting for my friends to die
Waiting for my husband to die
Waiting . . .
Waiting to get sick
Waiting for things to get better
Waiting for winter to end
Waiting for the mirror to tell me that I’m old
Waiting for a good bowel movement
Waiting for the pain to go away
Waiting for the struggle to end
Waiting for release
Waiting for morning
Waiting for the end of the day
Waiting for sleep
Waiting . . .
“Waiting” was performed at Womanhouse in Los Angeles sponsored by the Feminist Art Program, California Institute of the Arts. [Image copyright Faith Wilding.]
lundi 1 février 2010
Bright Star, by John Keats (1819)
Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors
No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
samedi 2 janvier 2010
Lettre aux ami(e)s: lettre inédite de René Char à Maurice Blanchot
"Cher Maurice Blanchot, Il ne m'est venu à l'esprit et au cœur qu'un seul vœu, un de ces souhaits qui sont don, pas ces miettes que l'on jette aux moineaux le premier de l'an : puisque le Vaucluse est devenu une terre pour vous avec ses ocres et ses maquis, arrivez aux Busclats, je vous prie ; ne respirez pas à quelques kilomètres, sans « être porté » vers mon coteau et son habitant, lesquels vous attendent et vous espèrent de toute éternité. Si mes ennuis me diminuent un peu par leur répétition, du moins jusqu'à présent les êtres que j'affectionne n'en sont point touchés. La force que je puise me vient d'eux. Et en premier de vous. Merci pour ce mieux si stable".
Vente de la lettre autographe : http://www.chapitre.com/CHAPITRE/fr/BOOK/char-rene/lettre-autographe-signee-a-maurice-blanchot,23726628.aspx
Info publiée sur: http://www.mauriceblanchot.net/blog/index.php/
Vente de la lettre autographe : http://www.chapitre.com/CHAPITRE/fr/BOOK/char-rene/lettre-autographe-signee-a-maurice-blanchot,23726628.aspx
Info publiée sur: http://www.mauriceblanchot.net/blog/index.php/
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