dimelo a la #cara, dis-le moi en #face, sagt es mir ins #gesicht, say it to my #face
on chechela´s radio
Mr. Bojangles -Jerry Jeff Walker
I knew a man Bojangles and he danced for you, in worn out shoes.
With silver hair a ragged shirt and baggy pants,
The old soft shoe.
He jumped so high, jumped so high,
Then he lightly touched down.
Mister Bojangles, Mister Bojangles,
Mister Bojangles, dance.
I met him in a cell in New Orleans I was down and out.
He looked at me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out.
He talked of life, talked of life, laughed slapped his leg a step.
He said his name, Bojangles,
then he danced a lick, across the cell.
He grabbed his pants a better stance oh he jumped up high,
He clicked his heels, he let go a laugh, let go a laugh,
Shook back his clothes all around.
He danced for those at minstrel shows and county fairs throughout the South.
He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog him, he traveled about.
His dog up and died, he up and died,
After twenty years he still grieves,
He said, “I dance now at every chance in honky tonks for drinks and tips.
But most the time I stand behind these county bars cause I drinks a bit.”
He shook his head and as he shook his head,
I heard someone ask him please,Mister Bojangles, Mister Bojangles,
Mister Bojangles, dance.
re-blogged
Suzanne Valadon, Woman Reclining on a Sofa, c. 1917-18
on chechela´s radio:
Brand New life - Young Marble Giants
re-blogged:
Caroline Grijsen - Abschied: neontext in Fette Fraktur, 2009
re-blogged: arte para escap-arte
Pot Pourri (Detail) by Herbert James Draper (1897)
re-blogged: art in nature
generative liquid sequence vol 2 (dpl animation using noise chans)
La voz a ti debida (versos 494 a 521, Pedro Salinas)
Para vivir no quiero
islas, palacios, torres.
¡Qué alegría más alta:
vivir en los pronombres!
Quítate ya los trajes,
las señas, los retratos;
yo no te quiero así,
disfrazada de otra,
hija siempre de algo.
Te quiero pura, libre,
irreductible: tú.
Sé que cuando te llame
entre todas las gentes del mundo,
sólo tú serás tú.
Y cuando me preguntes
quién es el que te llama,
el que te quiere suya,
enterraré los nombres,
los rótulos, la historia.
Iré rompiendo con todo
lo que encima me echaron
desde antes de nacer.
Y vuelto ya al anónimo
eterno del desnudo, de la piedra, del mundo,
te diré:
“Yo te quiero, soy yo”
on chechela´s radio
Nina Simone - Ain´t got no / I got life
Ain’t got no home, ain’t got no shoes
Ain’t got no money, ain’t got no class
Ain’t got no skirts, ain’t got no sweater
Ain’t got no perfume, ain’t got no beer
Ain’t got no man
Ain’t got no mother, ain’t got no culture
Ain’t got no friends, ain’t got no schooling
Ain’t got no love, ain’t got no name
Ain’t got no ticket, ain’t got no token
Ain’t got no God
What’ve I got?
Why am I alive anyway?
Yeah, what’ve I got?
Nobody can take away
I got my hair, I got my head
I got my brains, I got my ears
I got my eyes, I got my nose
I got my mouth, I got my smile
I got my tongue, I got my chin
I got my neck, I got my boobs
I got my heart, I got my soul
I got my back, I got my sex
I got my arms, I got my hands
I got my fingers, Got my legs
I got my feet, I got my toes
I got my liver, Got my blood
I’ve got life , I’ve got my freedom
I’ve got the life
And I’m gonna keep it
I’ve got the life
And nobody’s gonna take it away
I’ve got the life
february the 15th, friday
on the screen by chechela
february the 14th, thursday
sugar heart by Chechela
Arte para escap-arte
You want to love me by Desire Obtain Cherish (2013)
re-blogged
Diane - Generative & procedural gif(t) - by sergioalbiac
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