Neste instantâneo intitulado de “Na galeria de Castelli” Claudio Magris acha piada ao engano(?) da visitante. Não vejo qualquer motivo para tal, porque nos dias que correm tanto é arte uma banana presa com fita adesiva, como panos pretos de diferentes tamanhos pendurados numa galeria de arte, ou até uma sanita parcialmente partida. Desde que um monte de areia decorada com uma pedra esteja dentro de uma galeria de arte é… arte. É a arte moderna no seu brilhante esplendor. A estupidez suprema.
Tag Archive for: decorada
Wearing a turban, his body covered with sandalwood ashes and painted with dye, his face decorated with an outline of a black beard, precariously wrapped in a ragged saffron robe, fastened on a piece of rope is a loincloth that pretends to hide his nakedness, with sacred beads and sequins around his neck, a gold chain looped on his right ankle, which makes him appear to be a young sadhu although he does not have any tilaka on his forehead, he walks through Rishikesh towards Haridwar.
A smile of pure satisfaction radiates from his face as his senses embrace the colors, smells and flavors of the spice stands that surround him.
Sitting near the bank of the Ganges River, wearing the shade of a tree, after having crossed the Laxman Jhula Bridge, he realizes how magnificent the smells of Rishikesh are and is proud to have chosen this pilgrimage route to the Maha Kumbha Mela. ‘It is incredible how in a crowd one can better perceive healthy solitude’ is the thought that arises before the undulating mystique of the Ganges River. It is this refuge that he needed and also the absorption of millennial energies.
It is almost sunset. The young sadhu rises and as he leaves behind the Ganges the aquatic magic is diluted harmoniously in the bustle of the metropolis and he feels like the link that unites the two landscapes. His readings taught him that there may be no chaos in chaos, as there may be no order in order, but these maxims begin to be broken when he is surrounded by a group of tourists who had hitherto been photographing the exterior of Trayambakeshwar.
‘A HOLY MAN!’ they shouted.
‘Holy? Where?’ he questions himself, but as he is pointed out by cell phones, he suspects that they think he is the saint, ‘crazy people!’
[… an excerpt …]
221B Baker Street, London receives mail addressed to a fictional Sherlock Holmes – ‘strange world we live in’, lol sighed as he observed the blue plaque. lol wore a suit snugged by an inverness, the head was decorated with a derby. lol was perfectly camouflaged and therefore did not understand why some passersby looked at him with staring eyes – in suspicion, almost. When lol took a pipe out from his pocket, someone shouted: ‘IT’S SHERLOCK HOLMES.’ Flashes, more flashes were being fired in his direction.
[… an excerpt …]
Bom Jesus. Uma árvore decorada com linhas.
Mais uma parede decorada.