baelgia’s Reviews > Selected Letters > Status Update

but it has no more cojones, as you say, than those of nearly all the consecrated poets. Calm yourself. Today Spain is producing the most beautiful poetry in Europe. But on the other hand the public is unjust. Perito en lunas (Expert in Mirrors) doesn't deserve this stupid silence, no. It deserves the attention and the encouragement and the love of all.

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But that's the way you learn. That's the way you learn to master yourself in this terrible apprenticeship life is giving you. Your book is bound in silence, like all first books, like my first
book, that had so much charm and so much strength. Write, read, study. FIGHT! Don't be vain about your work. Your book is strong, it contains many interesting things and reveals to good eyes a manly passion,

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Between one person and another there are spider threads that little by little turn into wires and even bars of steel. When death separates us there remains a bloody wound in the place of each thread.

I also have a great desire to write, an unstoppable love for poetry, for the pure verse that fills my soul, still shuddering like a little antelope, from the last brutal arrows.

But... forward! No matter how insignificant I may be, I believe that I /deserve/ to be loved.

This verse "The unicorn seeks what the rose forgets," I like a lot. It has the indefinable poetic enchantment of blurred conversation.

You're in a sad age of doubt and bear an artistic problem on your shoulders that you don't know how to solve. Don't worry. That problem will take care of itself. One morning you'll begin to see clearly.

Sketch our a plan of your desire and live within it, always within a norm of beauty. [...] And being involved in serious emotional conflicts and nearly /overcome/ by love, by society, by ugly things, I keep to my norm of happiness at all costs. I don't want them to defeat me. You shouldn't let yourself be defeated.

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starting to think i'm wrong for shitting on abstract paintings.... maybe to people who study art it's like reading subtle prose, understanding metaphors

I'm horrified by the painting they call /direct/, which is nothing but an anguished struggle with forms in which the painter is /always/ vanquished and the work is /dead/. In these abstractions I see /created/ reality joining itself to the reality that surrounds us like the real clock is attached to the concept the way a barnacle is to a rock. You're right, my dear Gasch, one must connect abstractions.