The Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero Micro-story Contest, which in its ninth edition is dedicated to the figure of César Manrique, continues to add stories. The submission period, which opened on July 1, will end on August 31.
On the occasion of the artist's centenary, the micro-stories submitted to the contest in this edition must feature César Manrique or one of his landscape works, such as the Jameos del Agua or Montañas del Fuego tourist centers, or one of the houses inhabited by the artist.
As in previous editions, the maximum length of the stories must be 100 words, including the title if it has one. Each author may send a maximum of five stories, which may be signed with a pseudonym, although they must always indicate a name and contact telephone number. All those who wish to participate can send their stories to the email: [email protected]. The stories will be read in the 'Reading on the Radio' space of Radio Lanzarote-Onda Cero and will be published in order of receipt in La Voz de Lanzarote.
The decision of the contest, organized in collaboration with the César Manrique Foundation, will be made public in the second half of September. As for the prizes, the winner will receive a television valued at around 300 euros, a pack of products from the Manrique centenary and a pack of books published by the Foundation. The second prize will be a tablet valued at around 200 euros, a pack of centenary products and a pack of books published by the FCM; and the third winner will receive wireless headphones valued at around 100 euros, as well as a pack of centenary products and a pack of books.
The red devil
The lava from the volcano reveled in its winding path down the slope, destructive, uncontrolled, free?
Good heavens! Who had the audacity to let such a creature resurface from the bowels of the earth that overflowed, converging into long chains of fire?
Red furrows that weakened, leaving behind the intrinsic nature of that volcanic island that emerged from the Atlantic Ocean.
Red devil spat out by the lava, thus showing and symbolizing its power. Enchanted, wrapped in a thousand stories that time has transported.
He smiles at locals and foreigners with his trident in hand.
And I see you again
Majestic palm tree anchored to the ground, sheltering, protecting the Jameo. Watchful, lest anyone spoil its peculiar place, its place, its home.
Contemplate the immense natural beauty from the highest of its leaves, with that way of being so its own, haughty and reserved.
Will you recognize me?
When we were kids, we sneaked through a secret hole in the wall, mingling with the crowds and bathing in your pool.
I come back.
I am dressed in white, my hand joined to that of a man who will merge his roots with mine.
Accomplice, you smile at me.
-Look at the camera!- The photographer scolds us.
Don César de Famara
Misfortune guides our islands against what we desire.
Look there, my friend: there is the outrageous cement giant, with whom I plan to do battle, in the great service of my land.
What giant?
The one that is on other islands. It seems, my friend, that you do not see beyond your nose or have any experience in the matter.
Know, your grace, that what you intend is to wage war with windmills.
I will make the wind my ally, which will proudly wave the flag of beauty and humility of this land. If my quarrel frightens you, step aside.
Yearned Friend
The gorse bushes move furiously, uncontrolled palm trees, uncoordinated vines, what's happening?
The blades of the mill house someone with them. He continues here.
César's breath tightens. What is happening on his island? Does nobody remember anymore?
His burning breath sends a hidden message:
"-The air of my Lanzarote is here with me, I sit and observe, I have not left my land. I am a tireless guardian of the Cactus, of the Mill. It is not no man's land, it is the land where you were born. And I say to the people to respect what I have always wanted, my beloved Lanzarote.
Your longed-for friend."
LOVE
The tireless feet of young César, caressed softly as he walked, the sand of his favorite recreation place, Famara.
Although his mind frequently flew to avant-garde ideas, to other beautiful corners, but above all to the image of his muse and longed-for friend.
On countless occasions, he caressed her, molded her, even palpated and deepened her entrails with the utmost and exquisite care, because his love for her bordered on infinity.
He modified her image, through subtle makeup, highlighting the most beautiful of his beloved, and thus they merged forever out of love.
Now César lies on his muse, Lanzarote.
Feeling
Where to find balance? Is it necessary? Flowing is a subjective balance.
Justice is symbolized by a lady with blindfolded eyes carrying a balanced scale showing the equality of people.
Are we equal in perceiving things?
No.
What for some provokes understanding, for others is incomprehension, perplexity,?
Enjoying consists simply of looking at what is not hidden from our vision.
Contemplating the still virgin landscapes of the hand of man, even if he later intervenes for his delight, dedication, art,?
A Cave, a Viewpoint mesmerized by the white foam of the sea approaching the white houses.
Feeling installed in the heart.
One hundred years of César
The island shone on all four sides. From the burning Mountains of Fire, passing through the enchanted Cactus garden to end in the Jameos del Agua.
Natural spaces of rough diamond polished by the artist to obtain the maximum splendor from them.
Envy of some. Greed of others.
"Singing, they are singing
the voices of the countryside
and also those of the sea
to remember César.
Expressing in all his art
the Manriqueño heart,
recognized throughout the world
feeling from Lanzarote.
He who loved his people,
persists in our memory.
Rest in your northern town".
No Title
Little Cesar spent entire summer days here, on the beach. He played with his imagination, imagining an oven on top of the volcano, an oasis full of cacti showing off their beauty, a house in lava? He picked up a stick given by the waves and traced his projects in the sand. His body was reflected there along with the majestic cliff behind.
-!Time to eat!- his Mother called.
-!Mom! You never arrive in time to see my drawings! But one day, I will create everything for real!
-Yes, Honey. Come, let me give you a kiss! My favorite artist!
They were magical summers...
The Great Tour
-Did he have children? -ask the tourists behind the bus. Those in the back are always less shy.
-Well, yes -I say
Their names are: Jameos de Agua, Timanfaya, Monumento al Campesino and many more. When you meet them, you recognize him in every detail.
-What a great and creative character! A visionary!
Those in front of the bus recognize, looking at their children and remaining thoughtful.
- Okay, but who financed all that?
Of course, children also need money. Materialism is never erased from these minds.
When the excursion ends they seem different. Richer... in experiences.
No Title
They say that, like a great index finger, the Monument points upwards because the peasants who once fertilized this land looked upwards, in search of blessed water. They also say that the artist pointed out its location with mathematical precision, in the insular center, like a phallus in search of fertility. And while we're at it, they also say that he chose for its construction, like snowy bellies, water tanks from old ships. The same ones in which those who, still looking upwards, obtained nothing, ventured. Now, when it is no longer necessary to look up, we will continue to raise our gaze. THANK YOU César.
"Art has no age"
On the shore of the Charco de San Ginés, as every summer afternoon, they were seen playing pirates. The "chinijos" submerged in the water like fish. In the Morro La Elvira abstracted in his magical world "César", trying to build a wind toy. - César! Aren't you playing? - , - Yes, I'm coming, I've been motivated with these sticks, one day I'll perfect them - .
Not only did he succeed, he spent his whole life claiming the sustainability of the Lanzarote landscape. He considered himself a child, he had no age.
