La inauguración no puede ser nunca un proceso solemne, puesto que su objeto es recibir lo abierto, lo indivisible, lo que nunca se cierra. Nave Anima cumple un año en este día de la primavera; así como ella, que inaugura algo que no puede concluir, también nosotrxs entregamos esta ofrenda de flores que, obnubilantes, durmieron la testa y busto de toda estatua de Persefone. En los misterios de Eleusis ella era una metáfora de la primavera. Para nosotrxs el misterio de la primavera viene dado por una metáfora en la que las flores se vuelven música. ¿Como, sino, pudieron dormirla a ella, la reina del despertar?
Esta ofrenda de rosas no conoce distinción entre la espina y la aureola. La Resistencia LGBTQIA+ y la Union Latina no son movimientos divisores, porque para la primavera somos todxs flores, y para la libertad somos todxs libres. Así es como se funden los mitos en memorias y las historias en misterio: de lo uno, todo, y de todo, una sola cosa. Cuando una sola flor florece en el campo, no esta floreciendo todo el campo en su canto? Como es que pudiera caber tanto en una sola flor? En ese espíritu, entonces, admitan nuestra ofrenda, pues tu eres la diosa hacia quien fluye el sacrificio. Dejarse llevar por la música de las flores, las rosas translucidas, que así mismo son las músicas que pudieron ilusionar a Perséfone, quien fue, y seguira siendo, la reina de la primavera.
The inauguration can never be a solemn process, since its object is to receive what is open, what is indivisible, what is never closed. Nave Anima is one year old on this spring day; Just as she, who inaugurates something that cannot be concluded, we also give this offering of flowers that, dazzling, slept the head and bust of every statue of Persephone. In the Eleusinian mysteries she was a metaphor of the spring . For us, the springs mystery is given as metaphor in which flowers become music. Who else could put her to sleep, the queen of awakening?
This offering of roses knows no distinction between the thorn and the halo. The LGBTQIA+ Resistance and the Latin Union are not divided movements, because for spring we are all flowers, and for freedom we are all free. This is how myths merge into memories and stories into mystery: from one, to everything, and from the whole, to a single thing. When a single flower blooms in the field, isn't the whole field blooming in its song? How could it fit so much in a single flower? In that spirit, then, admit our offering, for you are the goddess to whom the sacrifice flows. Letting yourself be carried away by the music of the flowers, the translucent roses, which are also the music that could excite Persephone, who was, and will continue to be, the queen of spring.
In this cosmic ship we surrender ourselves to serve the sentence of the future. "Invent me", she whispers. There's space for
everyone here. A fate that doesn't include you is not ours. For everyone the light, the night, the fight for our right to the Divine Sight - to incarnate in this realm as a spiritual adventure....more
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