Life is a game of chess lost beforehand; the important thing is to participate. Medieval painters represented death playing chess with their victims, a time when our provisional, ephemeral nature was more accepted than now. macabre dances, vanitas… were reminders not exempt from underground sarcasm. A black humor that somehow was lost with the pathos of the Baroque memento mori. Gino Rubert recovers the irony associated with our existential decay, adopting a festive-pop tone debtor […]
Month: August 2016
Quicksand, sensual and deadly beds
There, on the soft sand, a few feet away from our elders, we would sprawl all morning, in a petrified paroxysm of desire, and take advantage of every blessed quirk in space and time to touch each other: her hand, half-hidden in the sand, would creep toward me, its slender brown fingers sleepwalking nearer and nearer. Humbert Humbert (Nabokov) evokes his sexual awakening and nostalgia for such purity, elusive as the grains of sand that shelters […]