Art: Something New; Name This Painting…

(Digital version)

I “think” I’ve just finished this acrylic, 50x70cm painting, but I’ve no name for it.

Can you name this painting?

I can tell you that I’ve been working on it for about 12 days. First a series of sketches which contained much, much more, figures, shapes, colours. Then painting it.

Every day I would paint over yesterday’s paint…

The search continued…

The need to reflect the dynamics of the dance, the flowing arms, the jumps, the muscle tension, the idea behind the movement…

Movement spontaneous?

Contrived?

Choreographed?

To dance for art?

For joy?

For God?

———————————

For more of my artwork I invite you to visit my Instagram:

@Francisco_Bravo_Cabrera

And my dealer’s page:

@Guloshka

Sundays Oldies on a Thursday: «Holly Holy»

Holly Holy - Neil Diamond - Cifra Club

«Call the sun in the dead of the night
And the sun’s gonna rise in the sky
«

(1969)

Got to say, like I have said many times when I recall these songs from so long ago, that from the first time I heard this song I loved it. I remember…

I must have been fourteen years old and living (at the time) in Miami, Florida (US). I called my cousin, who was like my brother, and we took the bus downtown and I bought the 45 rpm and rushed back, played it a million times (honest, I counted) and learned to play the song on my old Decca guitar…

It’s an incredible tune. Neil Diamond called it his favourite…

What do you think?

Love to hear from you…

Cheers!

La pintura y la poesía…

(C.2021, Derechos Reservados/All Rights Reserved)

La pintura se define de la manera que te de la gana…

La pintura…bueno, el arte dirían algunos, es cosa que definen los artistas, que nos meten por los ojos y nos dicen que la tenemos que admirar, consumir, agradecer…

Quizá seamos todos artesanos, una noble vocación, una util profesión también y ademas se asemeja mucho a lo que hacemos, pues no somos originales…

¿Que hay de original bajo el sol?

Yo diría que nada…

A mi no se me ocurre decir que soy un artista, porque se supone que el artista es un creador y aquí en la tierra, donde peregrinamos, no hay creadores, habremos solo repetidores…

El arte entonces es poesía…

Pero ¿como es posible? Si la poesía es el uso de la palabra para crear algo bello, con ritmo y con mucho garbo…

Y la pintura ¿que es?

¿Acaso un garabato?

Quizá amor mio,

Quizá…

(C.2021, Derechos Reservados/All Rights Reserved)

Gracias…

Art History: «What is Art?»

(Photo property of Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia, C.2021, All Rights Reserved)
(What is in a question? A search for knowledge? Or just a waste of time? Somethings are worth asking about, other things are better if ignored, but what about art? Is the question ‘what is art?’ a valid question? Would you ask such a question? And if you would, would you be ready and willing to provide a reply? Let me know)

Cheers…

POEM: «I Believe»

(Photo by and property of FBC, Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia, C.2021, All Rights Reserved)

I BELIEVE


NUNQUAM SOLUS IN VIA AD AETERNITATEM CREDO

I believe
without doubts
with the strength of my cells
with the will of my bones
with the light of my eyes
with the wind in my ears
with the salt of the sea in my face,
and with the love that You give me…
I can walk through the tides green and powerful
and on top of the leaves full of blue like the blue of the sky.
Through blue valleys of mysteries,
through the salty warm peace of Her waters.
Praising the calmness of the raging sea.
I do believe she calls to me…
With these eyes that see through darkness.
With this voice that rises to the clouds.
With this joy that fills my skin, each and every pore,
I believe…
I do not doubt,
I live to breathe the silent power of eternity.
To know with certainty.
To love maternally.
And to be free…
I love the knowledge of the truth that some are doubting,
I seek the pleasure of the fullness it provides.
Faith opens my eyes and knowledge guides my fancies.
The doubts and rationalisations so quickly fade away.
This is my credo,
my beliefs,
and I know there is eternity,
I have seen it in each dream…

CREDO CUM FIDE ET SINE DUBITATIONE

C.2021, 15 DEC 2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, España

Poema: «CREDO MIO»

(Photo by and property of FBC, Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia, C.2021, All Rights Reserved)

CREDO MIO


Credo cum fide et sine dubitatione

Sí, creo,
no dudo,
no vacilo,
no me tiemblan las manos,
ni los labios,
ni los ojos…
Creo con firmeza,
con todo mi cuerpo,
alma,
espíritu,
con todas mis fuerzas…
Sé que si pido recojo,
si busco encuentro,
si toco me abres,
me abre,
me abren,
y me refugio dentro…
Sin dudas me manejo y no me lío,
me zambullo en verdes mares
y en el azul de los campos…
En los arbustos milenarios anido
como un pájaro feliz…
si le pido al sol que brille en las penumbras de la noche
sé que saldrá y el cielo entero brillaría.
Creo en quien tu niegas,
con fe y nunca con dudas,
en el Alfa y el Omega
en quien me escuda…

Numquam solus in via ad aeternitatem cogito…credo

C.2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 15 de diciembre de 2021, Valencia, España.

Bon Nadal!

(Foto propietat de FBC, Omnia Caelum Studios València)

Poema: «Soy muy…»

(Photo by FBC, C.2021, All Rights Reserved)

Soy demasiado blanco, burgués y europeo…
A veces derechista,
y tras dos copas monárquico,
indiferente, sonámbulo,
y con mi boina, y look arcaico, atravieso tus placeres.

Cuando quiero puedo ser la fruta dulce,
pero cuando no,
tu trago de hiel, amargo e infiel.

Soy el fruto de manchegos y asturianos,
con acento valenciano,
me impongo así en mi grandeza,
voz y presencia.

¿Mi discurso y mi placer?
El viento del mar y el vino…

No respeto ni el silencio del pasado,
pues sabrás que las esquelas de los siglos anteriores he borrado
y sus cuartillas las empapo con la tinta del presente,
y las lleno de mentiras,
de calumnias, de inocentes.
Soy el cabrón que ahora admiras,
pero al llegar el otoño
mas te vale confesarte con el cura de la esquina…

Soy heredero del hedor del viejo barrio,
hijo huérfano del miedo,
casco viejo y forastero,
voy detrás de las colillas,
cabizbajo y de rodillas
añorando lo que fueron mis pecados cuando niño…

Soy blanco, burgués y pijo,
y en mi mente, ahora ya fijo,
oigo voces que me anuncian
que ha subido la marea…

¿Seré la otra cara de esta moneda?

C.2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 14 de diciembre de 2021, Valencia, España.

Poem: «I’M»

(Photo by FBC, C.2021, All Rights Reserved)

I’m too white, too bourgeoisie, too European…
Maybe I’m the spectre that you fear
on solitary nights, walking alone,
feeling forgotten, and not recognising you are home…

I could be the voice inside your head
that loudly whispers,
or the noisy quiet puppy that amuses.

I’ve a smile that’s hard to handle,
I am confident, sublime,
swimming in the shame you’ve left behind.

I am penitent, but still ungrateful,
unashamed and disrespectful,
lying fully clothed and careful
on your antique water-bed.

Drink with me my foolish lady,
I’m your macho, Macho Man,
impolite and condescending,
I’ll seduce you,
you’re so blind…

Yet I’m far too good to pass by,
eyes that penetrate your soul,
hands that wipe away your helplessness,
voice to sing,
voice to control…

Yes I’m far too good to pass by,
I am rich and misbehaved,
intolerant, brave, intransigent, slave,
misogynist, pure, old-fashioned, obscure,
too white, too conceited,
too much Europe,
too defeated…

Is that me? Or am I the side of this coin you cannot see?

C.2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 14 DEC 2021, Valencia, España