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Z-Time Work in progress: page 1

hung here a while ago the first page of Sasurai pencil. Well now you can see the final result, ink, watercolor and labeled (thanks for the tips Juan).

Slowly, slowly ...

So begins the story ...

Handicap Bathtub Medicare

Sasurai comes Z-Time

It is less. It is starting to move the project in which a handful of writers and artists we got from earlier this year, coordinated with patience Pedro Belushi Fernando Sosa and . The idea is to see the light in both digital format and on paper.

I put here below a press release that was sent to some media and is slowly making its way into the net.

In a few weeks will reach readers throughout the world Z-Time , the Zombies comic project through time has been brewing since earlier this year from the ranks of Barricada. Joining efforts of artists and writers on both sides of the Atlantic, professionals and Fernando Sosa, Santiago Eximeno, David Brana, Juan Alarcón, César Acevedo and Pedro Belushi among others, put their talents to bring us that which we extract special editorial.

Welcome, dear readers, this special Z-Time. Welcome to the horror that on the following pages are going to consider and hopefully satisfy your tastes and palates more sinister.

But what is Z-Time? How did these horrific stories and who are the architects of these stories illustrated? Z-time is the result of the work of talented artists who want to show the world what they can do. Their stories, their drawings, their narrative, what you are going to look at then is a letter. A letter of introduction to teaching readers the kind of fun we can make and a nod to the editors of the world to say: "If you liked this, there is still much, much more." Because Z-Time is just the tip of the iceberg of a thousand stories, concepts, beautiful environments, illustrated fantasy.

If in a few months we have been able to create this magazine, what do you think we can create the following occasions? If you want to know, contact us at the end of the magazine where our records and contacts. (And if you publishers, we can talk about other things ...)

And now enjoy ... if you can.

Pokemon Furry Doujinsi

JAVIER JAVIER Lostaló IN SMYRNA

Hi friends

Finally we held our first meeting with Javier Lostaló this course, we spent a pleasant read, punctuated by poems and anecdotes, memories and reflections on his work.

the end, if something was clear that in the poetry of desire come together in Madrid and correspondence that in his visit us unwittingly provided through a journey of reflection guided by the sensory experience and contact with the everyday, which is sung by providing a distinctive voice to the reality of things. Hence his verses to the mirror, bed, radiographs, glasses, tablecloth ... Hence the beautiful prose poems blue station, an outstanding book of this (sub) genre.

I left some poems by the author that we hope you enjoy it.

A hug and see you soon.

Smyrna Team

BORDER

all live on the border, a stone of happiness and another of neglect and abandonment. We are a non-territorial refugees who are waiting for us to name someone to feel people from somewhere. We dress up every day without knowing how many degrees of loneliness will be able to achieve, or whether, on the contrary, many things happen to us until our jacket will feel strange. And on arriving the night did not know where we are, how much we have to get to the wonder and the precipice. We fought a battle with ourselves where we are kings and beggars. As we put the crown of victory or money, our hearts sample stripped his rags. We all live on the border, the invisible line between speech and silence. We talked and we are simply silent about what we really mean. Remain silent and have so much we undressed. Open a door and close a dream. Tapias a window and his eyes burn with the landscape. We received a letter and the time spent delete your letters. Between light and dark browsing our thinking, and burns when there are only ashes. Touch the truth but is blinded by lies. His soul is why, yet sometimes delirious. Nothing is as it is and everything is as it ever was. Thus, installed on the border of the confusion, in the past. Our lips move air kissing and skin trembles while flees. Tend our hands on a body and become deaf. We want to do something and call us from elsewhere. We were quiet and fast turn driven by desire and presence. Pursue the impossible and we pass to what your company offers. Claim to be in love and never measure the love of quiet days. We say 'yes', and only think about ourselves. Write 'no', and between the two letters trembling doubt. We planted a rose and grows only the wound made by its thorns. We all live on the border, tied to the paradox, servants of joy and pain of ignorance in the know. We all live on a tear in happiness. We all heard what we lose and what do not tell us. All inhabit that of which we were banished. All denials then trumpeted principles for our actions. And crossing to the other side drowned away by the voices that we do not hear. How thin border opens and closes our lives!

(De blue station, 1998-2001)

ALL NEED SOMEONE

all need someone. From birth we are the open wound of a name, dethroned princes voluntarily by the shadow of a being. In our infancy flashes corolla lips that we pro-nuncio. And if someone opened our eyes We crossed to the hillside. We all need someone to take history to enter the aurora with the wing of a secret, to sunset on the horizon tired of another heart. We all need someone to listen to our words as signs that silently up constantly. And who answers know that the voice you hear is pressed by the bell Translucent absence. We need to be someone's dream to open in our loneliness invisible body and embrace her ghost light to confuse the time. We all need uninhabited in memory of someone when blood spills its stars. Our image clearly reflected in the distance to another being. Never succeed alone but a heart always plant your rose in the center of our glory. And the aroma brings us back to the purity of principle. Never fail alone, because the fidelity of a voice in their time revives us. Behind every movement of our other steps paint a landscape. And there is silence not two. We looked flow that sustains us, the broken wing of another bird chest. And if we cry our tears slide down the empty space left by another being. We are a moment of infinite love, who face one day we kissed. And was made flesh. We are the day after a body one night we sailed. We are what we are not when someone burned within us. Live like a kite to measure pren- air within another being. His pulse is our way. and when we are no longer someone still breathe the world from us.

(De blue station, 1998-2001)

WHERE ARE YOU?

Where are you, a creature without love of my life?
As a silent planet
surrounds me your light you do not know and I do not reach. Quiet

walking towards me in your sleeping angel with her halo
sleep
wakes me your hand,
beautiful creature with no name or body in whose shadow

give me time and space above the desire for there
where there
move
form alone is recreated. Pure
absence of my life,
faith without God in that get up early in your deep concíbeme
airless
beat so that together, we forget the same love
desert.

(De transparent Storm, 2010)

ADOLESCENCE

sky tree with swing. Breeze

temptation silk with sleet. Summer

late as copper
called a chest.
Curtains with sleek light
bird. Face

shot against their own fog
tears.
bed with a naked
tides. Strand
look
lighted on successive days. Fixed

translucent cloud of desire. Bike

transpires emerald shore of a river. Storm
body dry
about to shine.

Mystery of a face in the dream copulated. Kiss

shining in their season total.

(De transparent Storm, 2010)

CARICIA

your touch was never first, you always

hid among its shadow darts
not to be,
as I lost consciousness in the flower
more intact.
destiny A body without my eyes listening

between pulsating circles
to wet the penumbra
your lips breathing. Touch of thought


raised his paradise soon to fade into the distance
more painful, which flooded

no place to surrender.

just enough movement for my entire life you will cross

alone has expired. Timeless

your word
incubated in pure space
by the desire dawned, but you are silent

in a distant desert where he sometimes played

the incandescent limit. Tired of absence


rest every morning still at the dawn of your forgetfulness.

(De transparent Storm , 2010)

Female Gentile Tattos

Lostaló. FRIDAY, OCTOBER 8, 19:30. JOYCE PUB. ALCALA, 59 MIGUEL ANGEL MUÑOZ

Hi friends

This coming Friday, October 8 we held our first meeting in Izmir poetic of this course.

As we shake off the sand hill we have entrusted this season opener a seasoned poet, long path, as is usually the most difficult otherwise. We talked of the illustrious Javier Lostaló , known in his youth by his foray into the poetic landscape of distant seventy, and after somewhat eclipsed in his literary work for his long career in the media. Diffusion path and promotion of the poetry of others has always done since the beginning his poetic career, starting in the Faculty of Law and through gatherings such as the Teide Café or Café Gijón, long before he published his first book of poems, Jimmy, Jimmy . Discuss

Lostaló is doing much of a poetry of the heart, slowly woven, meditative and elusive ambition to qualifying clichés, how to do this effervescent period of English poetry it was the seventies, or the calling by spreading the word poetry and poets, which is relevant history in Spain in figures such as Manuel Altolaguirre or Jose Hierro, just to name a few.

For this reason we invite you to start this new cycle of Smyrna , participating company Lostaló Javier and his poems on Friday October 8 at 19:30 where ever and as always: Alcalá, 59, until approximately 20:50 .

We leave their

bibliographic note and some links author:

Javier Lostaló born in Madrid in 1942. Has been professional National Radio of Spain for more than thirty-six years, devoting much of his time to promote reading, a task for which he won the National Award for Promoting Reading by Means of Communication . Presenter during two years of the cultural program "The Critical Eye", whose team remained a later part, created in 2000, along with Ignacio Elguero, space poetry "Blue Station", which today is being issued , time devoted to literature in general, on Saturdays from 4:00 to 17:00 on Radio One Among other awards, "Blue Station" has achieved the "Waves" and "Antonio Machado for International Broadcasting." Javier Lostaló has also been discussed more than two thousand books in the "Books on Radio Five, since this chain National Radio began broadcasting.

As a poet was released in 1971 through the mirror anthology of love and death , next to Luis Antonio of Villena, Luis Alberto Basin, Ramón Mayrata and Eduardo Calvo. In the same year prepared the edition of the Anthology sea and night , thematic anthology of Vicente Aleixandre . From 1976 and until 2002, he published five books of poetry: Jimmy, Jimmy , Figure on the promenade , The rose bent , Hondo is the radiance and blue station (Poems in Prose, Premio "Francisco de Quevedo ). Books collected by the editorial Calambur in 2002 under Title The rose bent. This summer has appeared also in Calambur , a new poetry, Storm transparent. Javier Lostaló has also prepared an anthology of young poets from Córdoba, this Age, published by the Fundación José Manuel Lara belongs to the Castilian-Leonese Academy of Poetry, and critical literary magazines Mercury and Turia.

Links:

The Author: http://www.catedramdelibes.com/archivos/000162.html

The author José Cereijo :

http://www.americaeconomica.com/portada/elcafedelasartes/javierL/javierlostale2. htm

Poems: http://www.artepoetica.net/Javier_Lostale.pdf

A big hug to everyone.

Team Smyrna