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A jewel, a poem

 

Fruit of the collaboration of Catalan Hunter and the Gallery of joyasTaller artist in Sabadell, we implement this new call for exhibition open to all the jewelry designers. It is an international character. All the world jewelry designers will be well received.

 

How to participate?

 

You have to choose a poem from the exposed on this page and create your jewel interpreting the poem. Send photos of the piece to pass the selection of participants to the exhibition, since places are limited.

 

Photos to make the selection must be sent to the following e-mail tallerdartista@gmail.com, along with the title of the poem that represents, the name of the author of the piece and contact details.

 

We do not accept project, only finished pieces and that they relate to the exposed poems.

 

If your piece is selected, you will have to send along with the proof of payment of the participation of €15, in concept of advertising, mounting and venissage that will be offered during the opening of the exhibition.

 

The deadline to send photos of the jewel to selection is June 20. Those selected will be notified before June 22 acceptance to the exhibition and the number of bank account that must prepare income and share.

 

The application deadline for the jewel to the exhibition will be June 30 + proof of payment. Transport costs and the insurance of the jewel are in charge of the designer.

 

Transportation costs and insurance of the jewel in charge by the designer, for both sending and collecting.

 

The gallery will be responsible for the jewels during the period of the exhibition.
 

 

Characteristics of the exhibition

 

Exposition will be held in Palamós. Costa Brava.

 

The exhibition will last for ......... days in the month of July; from........ to ....... of July.

 

It will consist of a jewel by participant together with which the poem which referenced will be exposed.

 

Space showcase participant is 25 cm x 50, jewel can not be greater than these measures.

 

The Gallery is made responsible for the mounting and demounting of the exhibition.

 

Once the exhibition gallery will send c.o.d. jewelry designers, within the period of 7 days.

 

"Choose your poem and get your gem"

The track of your silence

 

I

 

Time passing I have been lost

in conflicting Galaxies,

where, in fighting nights,

not even constellations help

to find the way back

to my lost calm.

 

I have visited parallel worlds

not well known by calmed souls,

I have jumped obstacles and ridden

in spaces where air does not run.

 

 

II

 

I have gone dumb, deaf and blind

over the most distant places

which took me to lost lands,

punishing me to, wounded, survive

within love and not love.  

 

For years,

I pursued what can not be pursued,

you know?

In the darkness of my thoughts

I have looked for you day and night,

and I could not even perceive

the track of your silence.

 

 

The soul cries*

 

Let your soul cry,

day and night, in your insomnia.

She wants to protect you, with a shield of life,

from this pain which punishes you.

 

Let her guide you,

and you’ll see that

her inherent strength,

takes you to see your shadow

beyond your own stars.

 

And when you believe she has to return…  

you will see that no atmosphere,

will stop you.

 

*Poem composed and sung in Spanish and Russian by the

Russian artist Yuri Tkachenko.

 

 

Lieveke

 

Dutch creature,

of Mediterranean colored eyes

of strange beauty.

Me, in this basement,

and far away from home,

I sing you a Havanera∗

of sea, storm and war,

when the memory

of your beating heart

dominates me,

now and always

 

 

Curtain of snow

 

I

 

Curtain of snow!

They say being beautiful and calm,

not even a sweet voice stops you.

It isn’t true; immersed in darkness,

I have looked at the sky and,

suddenly, above me,

you have stopped falling,

by the will of God!

 

He has heard me!

and all around me,

thousands of snowflakes in silence fall

and in their crystals den

the image of the white muse

is reflected in ten in tens!

 

 

II

 

Where are you princess, far away in the stars?

Me, in this snowless circle,

I sadly understand,

that the right to embrace you

is no longer mine!

 

Thanks, Lord,

for the white powder offering

which turns on my beautiful soul,

and advises me…

that I am still faraway

from the beautiful silence

of the curtain of snow.

 

 

Green eyes

 

Green eyes of fresh life,

green eyes...

if I don’t see them,

there’s no life.

 

 

Your pianist*

 

I slide my hands

on the notes of your skin.

I ignite,

with tender distal touch,

the fire of your internal rhythm.

 

I want to find the fresh emerald,

beyond the old sound which hides her,

to melt

into your green of hope.


I am the heart’s pianist,

the pianist which your love performs.

 

*Poem put to music by the Russian composer: Constantin Tushino and sung in Catalan by the Russian choir: "Youth of Russia"  – Moscow –, led by Natalia Ashueva led and orchestrated by Yeni Olga.

 

 

Your pulse

 

I look at your eyes,

and my hands

touch your hands.

Looking at me with worried eyes,

You are asking, why my hands?

 

And I answer:

not your hands

but the rhythm of your pulse,

the rhythm of your pulse...

to know if my hands,

disturb your eyes.

 

 

Three roses

 

Three roses I have given,

offerings from me to you,

family symbols

of love, nobility and courage.

 

Three roses I have given,

you might give back to me

the stolen heart.

 

 

My intent

 

You search always into my heart,

blooming in the eternal mad winters,

being this mermaid eye

in the depths of my being,

and giving answer,

beyond the zenith of my fear.

You search always into my heart,

to protect it

from the demons of my intent.

 

 

All, except…

 

If I loved or embraced you when I shouldn’t have,

I can wait until the sweet spring comes.

 

If I could not follow the rhythm of your music,

I can learn to become a better disciple.

 

I can learn and wait whatever is needed,

but what I can not do,

is to stop seeing you.

 

 

Ephemeral instant

 

Who will love you beyond the stars

that are born and die

within the only universe that remains

from the multitude,

that saw us to be born and to die?

 

Who will feel

the alive memories of those evenings,

so far away from the insignificant,

and so close to the circles ringed

with the embers of your desire?

 

Therefore... that stolen moment,

will be the one I will search for,

loving and feeling...

in the beauty of the ephemeral instant.

 

 

Darkness light∗

 

I

 

Don’t you see, darkness light,

that the ink black paths

that undermine your heart,

are just…

           casted thoughts

in past times.

 

Don’t you see, darkness light,

that your light shines so much

that ancient and distant stars

cannot fade in such clarity.

 

 

II

 

What are you afraid of?

If God and all the universe

live in happiness and joy toward…

the glowing beam which radiates,

your darkness light.

 

Poem put to music and performed by the Portuguese

composer Daniel da Silva – Flamenco guitar.

 

 

Floating memories

 

I live in memory of the dreams,

those which are eternal,

dreams with memories of colours

within the floating spectrum of beauty,

ephemeral and misunderstood.

Always searching for the air that runs

and fleeing from those,

who are the ones that create them.

 

 

Far I went

 

Far away, very far away...

she took me to the foggy memory

of my known seas,

with heart and effort,

divided and detached

by the infinite blue horizons,

so far away

from the solid and firm

light pathways.

 

 

They were dreams

 

They were dreams,

dreams entirely mine.

Them,

into other people’s minds;  

minds...

lost in my thought.

 

 

 A thousand full moons

 

A thousand full moons

illuminate my fear,

but their light...

so remote,

so distant,

does not reach my heart.

 

 

Elegant simplicity

 

The moon was on fire that night,

the sea waters trembling

and the farest eyes of the sky

did not want yet to die.

 

There was a reason for that,

they say it was due

to the rhythm of your pace and grace;

and more... the emptiness of them,  

was there again,

just to see how the moon, on fire,

released her demon soul

to your elegant simplicity.

 

 

My hand

 

If you arrive tomorrow,

whether it is soon or late,

you will find my hand,

and you will notice

that time has made it

patient and friendly.

 

And if you take it...

as leaves falling in autumn,

we will get lost,

wherever the wind carries us.

 

 

They call me

 

Dreams call me,

dreams melting

in the light of my desire.

Light that comes

from places where nothing is left.

Only memory

of an old light

which saw hearts of fire

beating strong.

 

 

The waiting one

 

I’m who impatiently waits,

the light they say from afar arrives.

 

I’m the waiting one…

no matter if I see the Earth,

flat, round or deformed.

 

The light which arrives,

will know how to give her its form.

 

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