JaZzArt en València

La Mujer con Moño Azul – 45cmx60cm Acrylic on Canvas Art by Francisco Bravo Cabrera aka Bodo Vespaciano

La Mujer con Moño Azul – 45cmx60cm Acrylic on Canvas…

Two beauties

Una mujer que tuvo que luchar mucho por su arte, y que aunque es conocida, no tienen sus cuadros el mismo valor que los de los hombres y esto tiene ya que cambiar. Hay que valorar el arte por lo que es, no por el que lo haya pintado…

This woman struggled and fought for her art. Although she is known, her paintings are not valued the same as her male counterparts. This has to change. A work of art should be valued for its own merits not for the artist that painted it.

Gracias…

Cheers…

Esta siempre fue una de mis bandas favoritas… Casi todas las canciones que lanzaban se convertían en éxitos de la noche a la mañana y esta «I’m A Boy» no fue la excepción de la regla… Esta canción, me da la impresión, le debería de servir de vita lectio a muchos en estos tiempos tan raros que vivimos. No me quiero liar, pero creo que The Who, y Pete Townshend que escribió la canción, lo tenia muy claro en 1966 cuando se escribió «I’m A Boy» que llegó a ocupar el puesto numero 2 en el hit parade del Reino Unido y el numero 7 en Irlanda. En EEUU no gozó del mismo éxito.

Aquí esta la letra, claro, en inglés:

… One girl was called Jean Marie
Another little girl was called Felicity
Another little girl was Sally Joy
The other was me, and I’m a boy
My name is Bill, and I’m a head case
They practice making up on my face
Yeah, I feel lucky if I get trousers to wear
Spend evenings taking hairpins from my hair
… I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But my ma won’t admit it
I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But if I say I am, I get it
… Put your frock on, Jean Marie
Plait your hair, Felicity
Paint your nails, little Sally Joy
Put this wig on, little boy
… I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But my ma won’t admit it
I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But if I say I am, I get it
… Wanna play cricket on the green
Ride my bike across the street
Cut myself and see my blood
Wanna come home all covered in mud
… I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But my ma won’t admit it
I’m a boy, I’m a boy
But if I say I am, I get it
Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Peter Townshend

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This was always one of my favourite bands… Almost every song they released became a hit overnight and «I’m A Boy» was not the exception to the rule… This song, I get the impression, should serve as a vita lectio to many in this day and age where we see so many strange things occurring. I don’t want to get tangled in but I think that The Who, and Pete Townshend who wrote it, had it very clear back in 1966 when the song was recorded. «I’m A Boy» reached number 2 in the singles chart in the UK and number 7 in Ireland, but in the US it failed to reach similar numbers.

Gracias…

Cheers…

(Mientras escuchaba Sonny Clark) Me asedian como a una ciudad medieval… Hay muchos que se sublevan y me tiran a los suelos… Como avispas endiabladas se me lanzan encima… Me han tirado por el acantilado y he caído en las rocas que baña el mar… Con violencia me han tratado, el amor me lo han […]

MI LUCHA by Francisco Bravo

STRUGGLE

They’ve attacked like wild marauders in the night
that lay siege to a walled, medieval city.
They swarm in, capture us,
and throw us in the deepest, darkest dungeon…
But soon, like devil hornets they come in and break
the darkness of this hole and bind us…
By the light of the rising sun they take us and throw us off the cliff,
and we fall upon the rocks below,
our bodies now crushed are washed clean by the waves of the sea.

Violently we have been treated,
love and kindness quite defeated.
Cruel harsh blows we have received,
and our dreams have all been seized.
We are thunder without lightning,
clouds without rain,
dust without wind,
fire without heat…

Who will come to render aid?
Who will be the brave Samaritan?
Who will lend us one brief moment
and a handful filled with water
to alleviate this heat?

(Francisco Bravo Cabrera, Valencia, 01 NOV 2022)

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The ‘struggle’, a ‘struggle’… Something dynamic, honourable, heroic, well, I would even say necessary in this day and age… No, it isn’t any of those. It is merely a manifestation of the dream we are all dreaming. The reverie we inhabit and find so appealing that we do not even want to consider waking up.

When you hear someone say “we must fight!” Or “life is a struggle!” Or they talk about the “struggle of the working class” or the “struggle for equality”, or other such slogans that have become like the cries of the new prophets, remind them that what you see is what you get. Remind them that life is and one need do nothing more than breathe to live. And to those who fall in love with those causes, for the which one must struggle, tell them to bugger off because workers are and will continue to be the slaves of the capitalists. The only place where they are allowed to struggle is at the factory.

And if they talk about the struggle to liberate the poor, remind them that the lot of the poor has never changed. They will always be pathetically trying to live, disgusted and sick of their poverty. But nothing changes. There were poor at the beginning, they are now and will be at the end.

Human beings are not valued for their humanity, for their likeness to God. They are valued for what they have. There has never been a government, left wing or right wing, that has ever opted on behalf of people. No society has ever valued a man or a woman for the miracle that they are. No one values life.

I would like to illustrate my thoughts with a short story that someone told me once in a country far, far away. I met this person briefly, admired him and never saw him again.

It seems that there was a travelling salesman who fancied himself a jolly joker. So one afternoon he arrives at a pumpkin patch owned by a farmer and his small family. Seeing that no one was around he decided to play one of his practical jokes. He sees a pumpkin that was close to ripening and he unceremoniously defecates within it and leaves.

However, upon his return through that same part of the country, he passes by the pumpkin patch and sees the farmer. He approaches him and with a brave smile on his face says,

“You know I passed by here a couple of weeks ago, and I defecated on the pumpkin that was about to be ripened. I hope you understand, it was only a joke…”

The farmer turned, looked towards his little home and shouted to his wife,

“Eleanor, remember that pumpkin pie we said tasted like shit?

“Yes!” She shouts back.

“Confirmed! It was shit!”

So well, my friends, when something tastes like shit, it most probably is and don’t let them tell you it’s a pumpkin pie…

Esta es una pieza de hace algunos años y una colaboración con un gran guitarrista cubano, Palmerola. Los cuadros son dibujos y proto-Art Digital de la época de Miami. Por eso también la información al final del vídeo esta ya obsoleta. Para mas información, sobre Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia, (ventas, encargos et cetera), favor de comunicar con mi agente de ventas y representante Guloshka, Guloshka404@gmail.com o por Instagram, @Guloshka.

This is really an old piece from a collaboration with a great Cuban guitarist, Palmerola. The paintings and illustrations are from the days in Miami and are proto-Art Digital. There is also obsolete information at the end of the video. To contact us at Omnia Caelum Studios Valencia for sales, information or commission requests, please contact my representative, Guloshka, Guloshka404@gmail.com or through Instagram, @Guloshka.

Gracias…

Cheers…

Corta vida, pero apasionada, intensa y dejó unas obras que son a la vez misteriosas e intrigantes…

Short lived, passionate, intense and with a body of work that is mysterious and intriguing…

Gracias…

Cheers…

Palma and FBC