Giedre Pavalkyte

Giedre Pavalkyte

@giedrep.bsky.social

Literature. Writing. Music. Languages. Photography. Nature. Cofounder of The Write Salon literary nonprofit. Cofounder of @lib-parenthesis.bsky.social, a new bilingual bookshop in Madrid. She/her.

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LA CIUDAD Constantino Cavafis Dices: «Iré a otra tierra, hacia otro mar, y una ciudad mejor con certeza hallaré. Pues cada esfuerzo mío está aquí condenado, y muere mi corazón lo mismo que mis pensamientos en esta desolada languidez. 1/3

Donde vuelvo los ojos solo veo las oscuras ruinas de mi vida y los muchos años que aquí pasé o destruí». No hallarás otra tierra ni otro mar. La ciudad irá en ti siempre. Volverás a las mismas calles. Y en los mismos suburbios lle- gará tu vejez; 2/3

en la misma casa encanecerás. Pues la ciudad siempre es la misma. Otra no bus- ques —no la hay—, ni caminos ni barco para ti. La vida que aquí perdiste la has destruido en toda la tierra.

Me hace mucha ilusión este homenaje a Roberto Juarroz, uno de mis poetas favoritos. ¡Nos vemos el viernes!

Librería Parenthesis@lib-parenthesis.bsky.social

El viernes, 3 de julio, a las 19:30 celebraremos el centenario de Roberto Juarroz junto a Jaime Correas, autor de "Roberto Juarroz: La palabra necesaria" y el periodista y escritor Juan Cruz. Nos vemos en Parent(h)esis (c/ Valencia 30). lapalabranecesaria.eventbrite.com #robertojuarroz

"Such a minute fraction of this life do we live: so much is sleep, tooth-brushing, waiting for mail, for metamorphosis, for those sudden moments of incandescence: unexpected, but once one knows them, one can live life in the light of their past and the hope of their future." - Sylvia Plath

"To drill one hole after another into it [language] until that which lurks behind, be it something or nothing, starts seeping through — I cannot imagine a higher goal for today’s writer." - Samuel Beckett

"Me asombra la poca cuenta que me daba de que cada presente, una vez pasado, me dejaba un bagaje para el futuro. En el después ya no importaba nada la diferenciación entre pasado y presente." - Herta Müller

“…todo relato surge de suspender una exclamación de horror o de maravilla, y ahí, en el claro momentáneamente abierto por la ausencia del grito o del llanto, deslizar unas palabras antes de que se extinga la expectación general.” - Fabio Morábito, Un idioma materno

“Maybe this is the truly weightless time, after the front page loses interest but before the history books arrive.” - Omar El Akkad, “One Day Everyone Will Have Always Been Against This”

“I know now, what I didn't then, that affection can't always be expressed in calm, orderly, articulate ways; and that one cannot prescribe the form it should take for anyone else.” - Magda Szabó, “The Door”

I had to read some of it twice, and it still reads like bad joke, only it’s not.

Called my parents in Lithuania about the dates of a potential visit. Dad texts me saying they are in class. A few hours later we confirm the trip and I ask him what class it was. “One where they tell you how to prepare your backpack for emergency.” Yes, emergency=war, in case of doubts. They are 70.

The intensity, the brilliance. “I wonder why I don’t go to bed and go to sleep. But then it would be tomorrow, so I decide that no matter how tired, no matter how incoherent I am, I can skip one hour more of sleep and live.” - Sylvia Plath, 1951 (she was 18)

A friend working in a national park in Lithuania shared this note with me, written in a guest book by visitors from Spain… “Visitors from Baeza, Jaen, in the Baltic countries, wish you a prompt integration into the USSR.” A tastless joke or…?

“The word 'freedom' gives rise to an important enticement, perhaps the most important enticement that can be expressed. We always wish to get away, and when there is no name for where we want to get to, when we do not know and there is no border in between, then we call it 'freedom'.” Elias Canetti

In case you had doubts about ChatGPT getting dumber.. got this comment today on a text that mentioned Saturday, July 26th. “Just one small detail: "Saturday 26/07" should be "Saturday 26/07" only if July 26 actually falls on a Saturday. But in 2025, July 26 is a Saturday, so you're good!”

Giedre Pavalkyte reposted

“I feel a troubling kind of opacity in my brain lately—as if reality were becoming illegible, as if language were a vessel with holes in the bottom and meaning was leaking all over the floor.” Jia Tolentino writes about how the internet broke her brain.

newyorker.comMy Brain Finally BrokeMuch of what we see now is fake, and the reality we face is full of horrors. More and more of the world is slipping beyond my comprehension.

#poemoftheday #poemadeldia INVOCACIÓN Raquel Lanseros Que no crezca jamás en mis entrañas esa calma aparente llamada escepticismo. Huya yo del resabio, del cinismo, de la imparcialidad de hombros encogidos. Crea yo siempre en la vida crea yo siempre en las mil infinitas posibilidades.

Engáñenme los cantos de sirenas, tenga mi alma siempre un pellizco de ingenua. Que nunca se parezca mi epidermis a la piel de un paquidermo inconmovible, helado. Llore yo todavía por sueños imposibles por amores prohibidos por fantasías de niña hechas añicos.

Con lo que está pasando en el mundo, no es fácil dar con una lectura que nos recuerde que el humor (y el amor) puede sobrevivir a los años y tiempos difíciles. No es simplemente un intercambio de cartas entre Szymborska y Filipowicz: se cuelan también alter egos, personajes inventados.. y mucha luz.

Giedre Pavalkyte reposted

Just gifted myself a three year subscription to this beauty and I’m over the moon!

Orion Magazine@orionmagazine.bsky.social

COVER REVEAL! It’s here, it’s here, it’s here! Meet Orion’s Summer 2025 issue: THE FUTURE IS FUNGI. Orion’s 201st issue is now shipped out (or already in your hands!) and it’s all about the strange, rule-bending, mind-altering, awe-inducing world of fungi. orionmagazine.org/issue/summer...

#poemoftheday EVEN NOW Tomasz Różycky (tr. Mira Rosenthal) Winter doesn't want to end in some familiar place. The meadow past the river creaks, in the tunnel there's ice, even beyond the warehouse where time collects dust winter is still holding out, most fiercely inside of us.

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All through the night they feed it with salt trucks, things taste so bland we have to scatter in some ache, may it remain, otherwise we'll simply fall asleep, no one will keep watch, no one will blaspheme.

And no one will be sitting here under a blown bulb, nervously arranging words against this season, like sharpening a knife on endings and rhymes till they bleed, though winter has no heart—you have to stab your own.

#poemoftheday EVEN NOW Tomasz Różycky (tr. Mira Rosenthal) Winter doesn't want to end in some familiar place. The meadow past the river creaks, in the tunnel there's ice, even beyond the warehouse where time collects dust winter is still holding out, most fiercely inside of us.

It's so insatiable, it strips the city bare of excess and color, of grass, cafés, the scent of women, dresses, disrobes the wall and in it makes a gash, a few months pass, above the chimney, smoke and ash.

“We are up against an ideology that has given up not only on the premise and promise of liberal democracy but on the livability of our shared world <..> on its people, on our children, on other species. The forces we are up against have made peace with mass death” www.theguardian.com/us-news/ng-i...

theguardian.comThe rise of end times fascism | Naomi Klein and Astra TaylorThe governing ideology of the far right has become a monstrous, supremacist survivalism. Our task is to build a movement strong enough to stop them