Status Updates From Água Viva

My eyes are shut. I am pure unconsciousness. They already cut the umbilical cord: I am unattached in the universe. I don’t think but feel the it. With my eyes I blindly seek the breast: I want milk. No one taught me to want. But I already want. I’m lying with my eyes open looking at the ceiling. Inside is the darkness. An I that pulses already forms. There are sunflowers. There is tall wheat. I is.

Esta es mi primera vez leyendo a Lispector.

He escuchado mucho de su mundo interior y cómo lo explora de formas singulares; volviendo al lector cómplice y no sólo espectador; dándole un detalle personal, sin quitarle lo complejo.

Me emociona poder leer a una voz que, por lo que he llegado a conocer por otros, promete bastante.

I am haunted by my ghosts, by all that is mythic, fantastic and gigantic: life is supernatural. I walk holding an open umbrella upon a tightrope. I walk to the limit of my great dream. I see the fury of visceral impulses: tortured viscera guide me. I don’t like what I just wrote-but I’m duty-bound to accept the whole because it happened to me. My essence is unconscious of itself that’s why I obey self blindly.