Red Blood Vessel One Eye

Gonzalo Gamio Gehri

I just learned that my good friend Vicente Santuca - Jesuit priest and one of the framers of the University Antonio Ruiz de Montoya - has died. The pain of the loss of so valuable a person is really deep. I have known Vincent since the mid- 1996 when, aged 25, went to teach at the then School Antonio Ruiz de Montoya, assuming the Seminar contemporary authors (communitarians) . Vicente was a master of words deep, sharp intellect and an ability to articulate the philosophical concepts and experiences of everyday life. It was also a priest who had the deep conviction that the Christian commitment should combine faith with the rational pursuit of truth and with the option for the weak. Love of Peru - where he lived for 43 years - was a connoisseur of Amazon and the north (he was one of the founders CIPCA). He would have liked to end his life in our country, but death overtook him in Paris, a city that had been set to begin a sabbatical year of research. Vicente

met in different facets of academic life and priesthood. Rector, philosopher, pastor, retreat director, counselor. He was also the celebrant of baptism of my son Iñigo. In 1999 we published together - and Francis Chamberlain - Democracy, civil society and solidarity , a collection of essays on political philosophy. However, beyond all their academic qualities, was a great friend. We talked often reserved at least an hour to chat despite his busy schedule. He had a hearty laugh, contagious. And an endless hope in the goodness of the human heart that only spirits are really young. I was privileged to have him as a player and partner of my essays, for about thirteen years. I sent my text, and always interesting comments and criticisms received invaluable. Similarly, I assigned the reading of his essays, and frequently talked about them. I knew the manuscripts that shaped Ethics and Politics: What happens to us? , The mole in his labyrinth and his most recent book, Anthropology existential. The theme of the phenomenology of corporeality and language were the philosophical heart of his proposal.

The second stage of my journey in Christianity owe it to Vincent, his direction of Exercises of St. Ignatius back in 1999. Thanks to his teaching, I realized that faith and freedom can stay together without sacrificing the autonomy and critical thinking. His anxiety to return to the "Principle and Foundation", the sense of creature and the perception of the Gratuity marked his experience of Christianity has decisively influenced the perspective of his friends and colleagues. That belief is - and in key concept - the horizon of his own existential anthropology. Faith is not an epistemic concept or a religious doctrine but confidence in the action of love in life.

Still I have a lump in my throat. A dear friend has left us. However, I repeat the words of Vincent as he reflected on the departure of other mutual friends: Thanks for the gift of life, celebrate those who shared with us.

Thank you dear friend.

Filters On Maytag Quiet Series Dishwashers

Ahhh, those chairs ... My father


back to the antique.

Some time ago my husband came to visit her a sort of flea market, dedicated to the furniture.

Among

horrible objects, jewelry rested cabinetry, tables, chairs and the best styles of the noblest oaks. Large mirrors in which you ever watched a lady wearing gloves, umbrella and bustle.

short: in the great bazaar was a question of looking.

And just in one sector of the most lackluster, a patio garden furniture crowded, I saw some metal chairs painted green that seemed to call me.

I stood beside them, fascinated.

My husband, who was hurt in the pocket these charms mine, anticipated

- I will not buy things they then have to spend twice the cost in restoring them.

- is that these chairs are of the Bauhaus, rooted ... They are beautiful ....-

- not to get out of the hands of Da Vinci, are marred by paint that

coated .-

I walked away from them, but not for long. Over and over again, and my "dear husband", not to deny his manhood with me protesting.

- already have furniture. Those seats looks old.

not understand As rightly it, which has an exquisite taste for decoration, he saw the jewel underneath that creepy painting.

- These chairs are famous .- It stressed me, trying to remember the name, knew they were iconic.

As my memory was reluctant, I went to the vendor, the woman did not have the faintest idea of \u200b\u200bwhat it offered. We asked 1200 pesos for the chairs that went with a table. If at any time, passed through the head of my "better half" buy, in the light of this monstrosity that accompanied them, withdrew irrevocably.

For my part I had to admit, so, unable to determine the style, could be expensive.

But, continued in my head, went to lunch, and every morsel that brought me to the mouth, dazzled me flashes of the Bauhaus, and with each drink, the feeling of drinking arena, we have when is at the tip of the tongue, something we refuse to be revealed.

homecoming went to the Internet. And in no time we solved the mystery.

It was the great Harry Bertoia chairs, those of which said: " If you look at these chairs are mostly made of air, like sculpture. Space passes through them. "

There, my husband felt he had made a club. But it was too late.

A chair Bertoia, to meet at auction, it costs half of what they asked for four. And, central, beyond price, are a work of art.

In short, the painted green, had not the faintest idea what I did ... and I do I know I would have been great in my garden.

What I wonder is why men so little trust in the sure intuition of their women ...