CONTINUE ... all began when, Several months ago, I published facebook a photo taken the day of my confirmation. The initiative was quite successful, gathering feedback particularly by many of my sub-network of cousins. The photo was actually of the interesting things, perhaps even comical, and the terms of some of the characters depicted were intriguing. El Gloria, my cousin from overseas, proposed to take inspiration from photography to write a series of posts in which, in turn, would have interpreted the thought of each of the portraits in the photo when shooting. He observed, inter alia, among the secondary characters, so to speak (and I'd never noticed), the presence of Art Blakey, perhaps accidental, but indisputable. I found it interesting that the famous drummer This was my confirmation, though at the time (I have about 10 years) my knowledge was limited to listening to some jazz LP that I had at home, especially the Hot Five and Hot Seven Louis Armstrong. It took a little El Glory to send the first of the post, starting its course by the founder of Jazz Messenger. Him back, briefly and loosely translated from Castilian
Step outside the door of the church while trying to get the address gave me the hotel's concierge, after giving him 5000 pounds, I think it is exploited, but never mind, too many hours have passed since the last dose and I have to address urgently, I see through a group that catches my WARNING.Wires Clearly a religious ceremony has just finished (mostly Italians are Roman Catholics) and someone in front of the group is going to take a picture. In the observation group (abstinence heightens the senses me, I know, and I tend to become paranoid and conspiratorial) a boy, about 8 or 10 years, is the focus and object of the group around him, there are a couple of middle-aged, obviously his parents, the woman with the white hat has a distinct look to the left side of the boy is a girl, more or less the same age, with a menacing look, thanks to the camera in front of her , seems to say "I have big plans, big plans and no one can really stop them." A bit 'over the child is a boy with features very pronounced, particularly if we do because it seems a version of Franz Kafka, but with a smile of defiance, the right of the child (who has a kind of bandage tied over his forehead, reminds me of the Japanese during the assault on the beaches of Iwo Jima, I guess that part of the mysterious Catholic rites), I said, the right is a priest, the priest is interesting, is a young but strong and determined attitude , and stops to observe the young Kafka, with his defiant smile, a smile that I can give to a future militant Maoist. I sweat, it's cool but I seem to boil, and my brain continues to develop plots between the characters in front of me, and at some point I stop to see them for what they are simply a family posing for a picture, and become actors in a thriller. I see them and hear their music, one emitted by each of them. The last character is a photographer. His face seems familiar but is not of the past, I do not know from where. I shake, my hands shake, your whole body. The guy who does not appear and I'm waiting for the nausea, I need that dose in order to play tonight. I'll be back to look at the photographer and I find something disturbing. His face. Her face is very similar to that of the boy with his head bandaged. But not for a familiar parental (for age difference could be the brother major), was a nagging feeling, as if the photographer was the same child portrait. Inexplicable. Suddenly I remember a story heard from somewhere, or maybe read in some tabloid newspaper: "Dr. Mengele at the behest of Hitler, in his quest to get the" super man "had made experience of cloning human beings"
The text had undoubted interest grounds: it was a few points on which we discussed in our chat oceanic, above all, the fact that both have developed over time to represent us in the multiple realities of the Internet, according to different characters of ' Environment (facebook, Flickr, our blog), and as this shows, in the end, that we are both suffering from a creeping form of schizophrenia. And then there was a return to certain feelings that gave rise to that post "I've always been a photographer" . But
.
Some things did not convince me, first of all that Blakey would be in withdrawal symptoms. I seem to recall that he had finally solved the drug addiction after the journey of "regeneration" in Africa, in the late forties. That is, twenty years before my confirmation ..., and then the appearance of Art in the photo is not credible, jacket and tie when his photos show him with T-shirts sports during the concerts, and frizzy hair does not seem like they should be, I remember the first part of the film on Malcolm X, in which he recounts how he had become fashionable among many blacks to have them stretch the hair become smooth, cost of treatment also quite painful, but this refers to a previous period, and then Art Blakey did not seem the type. Expression remained restless and hasty, but it was not enough to embroider on something. They were pedantic fussiness, I realized that in reality ammetto.Mi my unwillingness to develop something starting with the photos, had a deeper reason: my relationship with the past, at that time did not allow me to face it calmly, and ultimately had to be a leisure activity, not a psychiatric session. The project ended in a drawer of my laptop, El Gloria found other subjects to play with his visionary creativity. But
Something has happened, lately, a couple of facts that led me to reconsider this story. I pick up ideas and talk about it next time.
Ah, the photo of the confirmation, I'm looking for riscannerizzarla.
(continued)
