Andrea is disconnected. Lowered the monitor of the laptop and put his elbows on the desk. The hand on thinning hair. Baldness was doing his job. I looked out the window. A long stretch of mountains served as the backdrop to a small cluster of houses with red bricks and pitched roofs. This extensive line which constrain his vision had the power to feed his imagination. Beyond the mountains could be anything.
His art was a stubborn fight against the architectural barriers of nature and reality. He was the author, the agent of freedom, escape from prison. He was the author of amalgam, alchemy between chaos and order, between imagination and reality. He knew the truth.
Many, however, were not yet ready to implement his message, the ultimate meaning of the word transfigured in his works.
Andrea stood up and forcefully pushed his chair. A grinding noise invaded the solitude of his room.
The presentation of his latest novel was a devastating experience. The players, thousands of them, asked, demanded an explanation, asking questions, the hooker. Why this and because this one. Questioned him on the text!
The Messiah reads the word to the apostles, silent and obedient. His words in their minds and they come with a receptive mind and accept it and perceive the Truth. The ultimate meaning and origin of living things. Shit, so he had to go!
Fortunately there were still small group of intelligent and sensitive readers, who idolized and appreciated his work. A dying breed. Then there were the indifferent, the readers most of all admired, who I like , I do not like . One that leaves him free to express themselves.
The fight against the popular imagination it was a difficult and dangerous because new factor was added to the hostility of the readers. Perhaps this was due to hostilities by invading bloody and merciless of this new factor. The technical factor. The new Bible. The red text. Metaphor for the totalitarianism that you definitely wanted to bring the creativity of being human. Technical and market needs.
Every player wore on his right hand a manual technique. Read and write. Learned. It posed questions and find answers in the manual. Each player was efficient. Each player was writing.
could count them one by one. Crazy machines with their hands in manual. Machines with the crooked mouth screaming and gnashing of teeth, a dull metallic sound, which raised his arm up and threw this book against him. Then from the palm of the hand other hand gave birth to hurl against the writer. Repeating the gesture infinity.
However, the manuals had forgotten to bring a decisive element in alchemy: the talent.
A novel without talent is like a human being without a soul.
Andrea knew " There's a war taking place. Is this war affects us all. "
dragged the chair to his desk, picked up the monitor and the laptop connected to the network.
0 comments:
Post a Comment