viernes, 25 de mayo de 2007

Things are not that easy

I found this picture round the Internet and it made me think about Mildred. We said in class that this woman took pills for sleeping as a way of taking all the problems easy. She couldn’t sleep, ok, and she would take the whole bottle of pills… It was like an easy solution, she tried to solve everything with little effort.

This picture made me reflect about the meaning when I first saw it. I can’t get to read all the words written there, but most of them, and with that I can get the message – or at least what I interpret from it. There is a pot with stuff that almost all girls have, like earrings, a clip to hold the hair, a ring, little heart-shaped and nonsense things… With all that there is a triangular peace of plastic to play the guitar, many pills, a cigarette, a coin. Yes, a typical girl has mostly all of them. Here, everything’s common.

But the fact that each object has something written on it is what changes everything. What I get from this picture is that we can have almost everything, a whole life with just this stuff, inside the pot. There are pills with the words ‘personality’, ‘parties’, ‘make up’, ‘alcohol’, ‘sex’, ‘school’, ‘pills’ and ‘friends’. Is the picture trying to say that we can reach each of the things named there just by taking a pill? I think so…

If you want to have personality, take the green and black pill, if you want some friends, with the dark green will be ok, and if you want to have a party you should take the light green. Oh! And don’t remember to take the white and the green pills before going to the party! If you do it you’ll be automatically made up and under the effect of alcohol. Yes, what you’re thinking is right! You won’t have to spend money buying beer. Anyway, in one coin you have the word ‘money’, so there you have the power. Remember to take always with you the pink circle in your pocket in order to find a lover. And if you want something else, you just have to take the blue pill. I don’t get to read what the clip for the hair says, but I think it says ‘hair’, ‘cut and color’. So, you don’t need to go to the hairdresser. But if what you need is appearance, style and I don’t read what else, you should wear the yellow ring on your finger! Ups… almost forgot it: if your problem is school, just take the white pill and stay the whole day in bed!

I made almost an advertising I guess… but that’s what I got the first time I saw the picture! It is okay if your head is aching and you take a pill, but never resolve things that easy! If you don’t face new problems, new experiences, you never learn!

Well, I guess the meaning of the picture is already told and my view of it too… so, just don’t behave like Mildred and the owner of this pink pot – whoever she might be. =P

Vale

2 comentarios:

cons dijo...

u're totally right! things are not easy!.. u gotta fight to get what u want... u gotta make an effort...welll... and about ur clip...i loved it!!!!!!
the pics are awesome!!! u did a great job! and of course i love the song too!:P
well... i gotta go to eat... mom's calling me.. deborah te manda saludos :P
hahahha
kisses sis!!!!!
love u
bye

Charlie (Prof. Mg. Carlos Lizarraga) dijo...

Hey! this reflection of yours reminds me of the poem 'Valium 10' by Rosario Castellanos. What do you think?

VÁLIUM 10

A veces (y no trates
de restarle importancia
diciendo que no ocurre con frecuencia)
se te quiebra la vara con que mides,
se te extravía la brújula
y ya no entiendes nada.

El día se convierte en una sucesión
de hechos incoherentes, de funciones
que vas desempeñando por inercia y por hábito.

Y lo vives. Y dictas el oficio
a quienes corresponde. Y das la clase
lo mismo a los alumnos inscritos que al oyente.
Y en la noche redactas el texto que la imprenta
devorará mañana.
Y vigilas (oh, sólo por encima)
la marcha de la casa, la perfecta
coordinación de múltiples programas
—porque el hijo mayor ya viste de etiqueta
para ir de chmbelán a un baile de quince años
y el menor quiere ser futbolista y el de en medio
tiene un póster del Che junto a su tocadiscos.

Y repasas las cuentas del gasto y reflexionas,
junto a la cocinera, sobre el costo
de la vida y el ars magna combinatoria
del que surge el menú posible y cotidiano.

Y aún tienes voluntad para desmaquillarte
y ponerte la crema nutritiva y aún leer
algunas líneas antes de consumir la lámpara.

Y ya en la oscuridad, en el umbral del sueño,
echas de menos lo que se ha perdido:
el diamante de más precio, la carta
de marear, el libro
con cien preguntas básicas (y sus correspondientes
respuestas) para un diálogo
elemental siquiera con la Esfinge.

Y tienes la penosa sensación
de que en el crucigrama se deslizó una errata
que lo hace irresoluble.

Y deletreas el nombre del Caos. Y no puedes
dormir si no destapas
el frasco de pastillas y si no tragas una
en la que se condensa,
químicamente pura, la ordenación del mundo.

Poesía no eres tú, 1972