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Supraismos – El arte más allá de los ismos – Una exposición de José Luís Garcia – 2018 ©

El próximo mes de septiembre tendrá lugar la primera exposición artística de José Luís García, el mayor de los hermanos.

El lugar será La Casa de las Sirenas, en Sevilla, del 5 al 11 de septiembre. Pudiendo realizar la visita de lunes a viernes de 10 a 14 horas. El acceso será totalmente gratuito. Queda por ello invitada toda persona interesada en pasar un rato agradable en un lugar donde sólo importa el arte.

Quien se preste a conocer esta exposición encontrará una gran variedad de obras y temática creada exclusivamente para el espectador. Donde como pilar fundamental podrá distinguirse una insaciable búsqueda de la más pura originalidad, y donde se podrá disfrutar de pequeñas dosis en forma de críticas muy constructivas hacia el arte predominante.

No dejes pasar este evento y mantente al tanto de las últimas novedades en:

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From where I write? – Chapter I ©

I got out of jail with the clothes which I entered. The gate closed behind me, I looked ahead and I saw that a car was waiting for me. No one has come to visit me during my forty years in prison and now someone was waiting me for to take me somewhere. All people I cared did not remember my name, my house would be already occupied by a happy family, my job would me have left behind and my future was hidden from me. I had nowhere to go.

I moving slowly into the passenger door bent to check the driver’s face, which I could only see an outline of his smile. I opened the door, entered and sat down. I looked at the driver, did not know him, but it seemed that he yes knew me. He started the car and we drove, together, to the prison that changed me forever. He drove in silence over the curves of the road in a dark and cold night. I looked at him as he drove. I could have taken the wheel of the car and crashing into a ditch. I could have, but I didn’t.

After several minutes, he parked in the parking of a roadhouse. The almost total silence was broken by some solitary birds flying from one tree to another. Suddenly, a person left the bar and stood under the door frame. He wore a hat and a jacket. We looked at each otherstared. A mystical chants were heard from inside the bar. I looked at the driver, he seemed quiet. The man walk a few steps when all the lights of the bar turn off, but the singing continued. My driver turned off the car lights and the darkness was absolute. Soon I glimpsed how else left the bar with a candle in hands, followed by many more provided, also, of candles. When I realized we had thirty people forward of us with candles in their hands while singing their songs. I started to get nervous, I did not like that place, I missed my dungeon. The people surrounded the car leaving a circle in the center. They sang louder to the point of not being able to hear my own thoughts. I looked at the driver. “Come out,” he said. I obeyed, and watched the illuminated face all those people looking at me. The driver walked around and whispered in his ear: “You will be our offering, so you’ve done, for you’ve done to me”. I figured it would be a relative of the girl, perhaps the father, not cared me because I saw approaching a police car: was saved, they would stop this madness.

The couple left the police car and approached the circle where I had surrounded. And, to my surprise, a lady gave him two candles on either police and they joined in singing. I was flabbergasted. I heard noises coming from the forest: hundreds of people came to the circle, all with candles. The driver got into his car and left the circle. Later I saw him together with the other singing. I saw there in the middle, alone, surrounded by people. Suddenly the singing stopped and silence hurt. Everyone looked at me, I looked at them.

And then I lit a spotlight from above. I looked and could not see anything but many colored lights. Sang again, this time with more joy. They placed candles on the floor, shook hands, and swayed from side to side with arms raised. I was scared. I closed my eyes, I wanted to be on my cell. When I opened them again, I saw that I was slowly rising. Look up and bright light blinded me and the last thing I saw was how people, thousands of faces staring at me. Some wept excited.
That’s when I woke up here, somewhere, no touch, no sight or hearing. I grabbed my notebook and it was when I started writing this. I do not know if you want to if I’m writing, because I do not feel my hands or my body, I just know I write from somewhere far, far away from where I was.

_____________________________________________________________

Salí de la cárcel con la ropa con la que entré. La puerta se cerró tras de mí, yo miré hacia delante y vi que un coche me esperaba. Nadie vino ha visitarme durante mis cuarenta años en prisión y ahora me esperaba alguien para llevarme a algún lugar. Todos los que me importaban ya no se acordaban de mi nombre, mi casa estaría ya ocupada por alguna familia feliz, mi trabajo me habría dejado atrás y mi futuro se escondía de mí. No tenía a donde ir.

Mientras avanzaba lentamente hacia la puerta del copiloto me incliné para comprobar el rostro del conductor, del que solo pude ver un esbozo en su sonrisa. Abrí la puerta, entré y me senté. Miré al conductor: no le conocía, pero el parecía que si me conocía a mi. Arrancó el coche y nos alejamos, juntos, de la prisión que me cambió para siempre. Recorrimos en silencio las curvas de la carretera en una noche oscura y fría. Yo le miraba mientras conducía. Pude haber cogido el volante del coche y estrellarnos en la cuneta. Pude haberlo hecho, pero no lo hice.

Tras varios minutos, estacionó en el parking de un bar de carretera. El silencio era casi total, roto por algunos solitarios pájaros que volaban de un árbol a otro. De repente, una persona salió del bar y se paró bajo el marco de la puerta. Llevaba un sombrero y una cazadora. Nos miró fijamente. Se escuchaban unos cánticos místicos provenientes de dentro del bar. Miré al conductor, el parecía tranquilo. El hombre avanzo unos pasos cuando se apagaron todas las luces del bar, aunque los cantos continuaban. Mi conductor apagó las luces del coche y la oscuridad era absoluta. Pronto vislumbré cómo otra persona salía del bar con una vela en las manos, seguidas de otras muchas más provistas, también, de velas. Cuando me di cuenta teníamos a treinta personas delante de nosotros con velas en las manos mientras entonaban sus cantos. Empecé a ponerme nervioso, no me gustaba ese lugar, añoraba mi celda. Las personas rodearon el coche formando un círculo y dejándonos en el centro. Cantaban cada vez más fuerte hasta el punto de no poder escuchar mis propios pensamientos. Miré al conductor. “Sal”, me dijo. Obedecí, y observé el rostro iluminado de todas aquellas personas, mirándome. El conductor rodeó el coche y me susurro al oído: “Serás nuestra ofrenda, por lo que has hecho, por lo que me has hecho”. Supuse que seria algún familiar de aquella chica, tal vez el padre, no le di importancia, porque vi que se acercaba un coche de policía: estaba salvado, ellos pararían esta locura.

La pareja de policía salio del coche y se acercaron al circulo donde me tenían rodeado. Y, para sorpresa mía, una señora le dio dos velas a cada policia y estos se sumaron a los cánticos. Estaba atónito. Escuche ruidos provenientes del bosque: centenares de personas se acercaban al círculo, todas con velas. El conductor se metió en el coche y abandonó el círculo. Más tarde le vi unido a los demás cantando. Me vi allí en medio, solo, rodeado de personas, formando parte de una imagen grotesca. De repente, los cánticos cesaron y el silencio me dolió. Todos me miraban, yo les miraba.

Y entonces, un foco me iluminó desde arriba. Miré y no pude ver nada salvo muchas luces de colores. Volvieron a cantar, esta vez con más jubilo. Colocaron las velas en el suelo, se dieron las manos, y se balanceaban de un lado para otro con los brazos levantados. Sentí miedo. Cerré los ojos, quería estar en mi celda. Cuando los abrí de nuevo, vi que me estaba elevando lentamente. Mire hacia arriba pero la luz fuerte me cegó y lo ultimo que pude ver fue cómo la gente, centenares de rostros, me miraban. Algunos lloraban emocionados.

Fue entonces cuando me desperté aquí, en algún sitio, sin tacto, sin vista ni oído. Cogí mi libreta y fue cuando comencé a escribir esto. No sé si quiera si estoy escribiendo, por que no siento mi mano ni mi cuerpo, solo sé que escribo desde algún lugar muy, muy lejos de donde estaba.

The Brothers

 

THE LAST WISH ©

garcia-brothers-org-the-last-wish-sketchA machine accompanied the last moments of my life. Those sounds were increasingly disparate, even could control the pace of the echoes for that, somehow, they were closer together and my family could come and see me one last time, but each time was harder for me, hurt me, and not death was pain, but live still. I Listened how my heart wanted go, betraying my own life and my thoughts were aware of my death. Despite this, he still had the strength to be able to think up. I took that thought and with surprising ease I sat on the couch.

Barefoot, I began to explore the room but something stopped me, I removed all cables from the chest and I kept going. I went out to the hallway full of nurses, patients, hypocrites families and I down a ladder leaning on the railing. Nobody seemed to be aware of my presence. I continued down the stairs when I started to feel my heartbeat, getting stronger. And then I saw the front door. One last breath, one last ride, that would be what I needed. I left the hospital, and a breath of cold air hit my face. I closed my eyes and felt happiness. I stood there, in front of the hospital, the strong wind moved me and pushed me inside, I had to lean for not to fall. I opened my eyes and saw before me a park, the most beautiful you can imagine. Like something out of a fairytale. How could something so beautiful be so close to me? Soon I realized that someone was playing with one of my fingers, turn your head and notice that I had supported on a cart and one baby was smiling me. I smiled back and wished him a happy life like mine.

The wind died and a sunbeam was seen between the trees and the sky showed its best colors panel in its most beautiful pink sunset. Suddenly someone shouted my name, I turned and saw the doctors pointed me out, some of them started running towards me. I panicked and tried to run across the street that separated me from the park. Several cars slowed, some insulted me, I kept running. One doctor grabbed me by the arm. We were in the middle of the road. I told him to let me go, I just wanted to go to the trees, but the doctor brought me back to the hospital, and the park away. He picked me up. I felt ridiculous, useless, everyone was looking at me now. I began to mourn with anger, but despite that I was not capable of putting up some resistance. I sat in a wheelchair, told me something, do not remember, I do remember being surrounded by doctors while I climbed back down the elevator to my room.

When I wiped the tears from my eyes was back in the room, plugged into that machine that measured my life. The door was locked this time, I looked at the ceiling. I realized that some things logic were beginning to seem illogical, some words were ending in my head, I lost all knowledge learned, I realized that I could not move my body and my eyes were fixed on that roof. I was dying, it was able to feel my own death. At one point I could no longer think only of that roof. He did not remember anything now, not my name. And my heart stopped. Someone turned my face and stared with empty eyes the doctor. I could not speak or hear and the edge of my vision was expanding black a shadow coming toward the center. I can see my son, with my grandson in his arms. I could not think anymore.

The Brothers

THE LITTLE BLUE BOOK OF MY GRANDFATHER ©

One morning my grandfather came home. It was my tenth birthday. I remember I woke up with the sound of engine of a Ford mustang shelby of 67 . I ran down the stairs and i jumped out of the portal to fall into his arms. Quickly called my three best friends. Bobby, Charlie and Helen. And during all that day i sat on the knees of my grandfather.

He had traveled around the world!! even one night under the stars, he said me he walked on the moon. Although in my house there were many pictures of him, I never knew wich was my grandfather’s employment.

In the evening my grandfather took us to walk around New York Mounted on the “Ford mustang”. When we got home, my grandfather out from his pocket pulled out a small blue book. More gifts? I asked to my grandfather and he laughed. On its cover, a title. “Drawings and notes in a city without wind,” I asked where was this town, his name was Chernobyl.

The Brothers 

THE BIRTH OF INN ©

Was born in a police car, road to “Kings County Hospital Center” in Brooklyn on July 13, 1977, around nine o’clock at night. New York that night, was dark and numerous riots swept the city. Her mother told that her first cry was mixed with sounds of ambulance, fire and police, broken glass, thunders, and shoutings.

The Brothers

THE BULLET´S BILLY ©

garcia-brothers-org-the-bullets-billy-drawing

About a mile from that little town, I thought I saw a flash in the darkness of the bell tower. A second later a shot was heard in the distance and my unit dropped to the ground for cover. Then I remind myself, there, amazed, watching my chest full of blood. I felt cold but not that cold mortal had heard so much. A bullet was touching my heart, I could feel the beating. The last that I remember is was watching clouds from the ground in the middle of a crossfire.

The Brothers