Iberian Essence and Existential Intimacy

O poeta é um fingidor

Finge tão completamente

Que chega a fingir que é dor

A dor que deveras sente

The poet is a faker

Who's so good at his act

He even fakes the pain

Of pain he feels in fact.

                    Fernando Pessoa

Não sou nada 

Nunca serei nada 

Não posso querer ser nada 

À parte isso, tenho em mim

todos os sonhos do mundo

I am nothing

I shall never be anything 

I can't want to be anything

Apart from this, I have in me

all the dreams in the world

                      Álvaro de Campos 

I spent this three days in Lisboa, Portugal with a couple of my Italian friends, the German dame I went to Tenerife with, and my good American friend Charlie. I found it rather inspiring, especially after coming across the latter of these two poems. I had never heard of Fernando Pessoa before, but I look forward to dabbling further into his work. The poem, with an essence difficult to reproduce in English because of its awkward phrasing, meshes quite well with a lot of things going on in my life right now since I am, first off, reading The Stranger by Albert Camus, and, secondly, feeling this existential angst provoked by a constant discontent seemingly inherent in my gene-pool (only half-kidding). I might add this isn't anything serious (at least in terms of physical reality), but rather a ruminant perpetuation in line largely with what I read from continental philosophers, who I have a great interest in since I was roughly 17. It's rather interesting the widespread influence of such ideology in our films (e.g. recently viewed Abre Los Ojos or I Heart Huckabees) and the like, but even more interesting the drastic difference in what people take from it and how they implicate it in their lives. Regardless, take a gander at some of Pessoa's work and if you get a chance to visit Lisboa, I highly suggest you do so. I was struck by the beauty of its language (though I'm sure some beg to differ), and was simply amazed by its modern and contemporary art museum at the Museu Colecção Berardo near the Belém Tower. Carlos Lobo and Mário Macilau's exhibits were incredible and especially inspiring, as I have been pondering a trip to Africa or Eastern Europe, in order to take photographs and to study the gypsy folk-music culture of the Roma in the Ukraine in the former, or to photograph native tribes and volunteer in the latter case (a little less though out). Of course, this is pending due to financial concerns and acceptance to an appropriated institution in the coming summer. It seems like an obligatory end to fulfill and, again, something that needs to be confronted in order to deal with my recent and/or long-lasting existential meditations. Vamos a ver en el año que viene.