"Without any pretentious of an extreme simplicity, and full of melancholy, the verses that Montse Huguet Valley´s writes are drawn by her spiritual sustenance .Suddenly she opens her hand and there they are those verses and those rhymes entangled between her fingers, and without further delay or glitter she dumps them on paper and from there to her projection areas. I think for her poetry is a way, a method rather than to express... to discover herselve.They are falling sheets that reveal the statues she built up at night. Each Montse´s verse is like an onion layer she emerges from reality, She attempts to transform it from herself; her poetry is as natural as could be her veins or fingerprints... that has much merit: to make a war, to battle and battle every day curing her wounds, bringing her hands to her memory as if it were a crystal ball where there are only verses, Thus facing reality with a weapon as safe and without any collateral damages as they are her compositions. "
Rafael R. Costa / Madrid, 2011
Affable woman and loving form of expression, art and feeling, Today she takes communion with a talk from a distance to EntreVistaArtista, entering us to her space, her time, her generosity. As a catalan poet, she began writing at the age of 17 years, since then, overcome by an urgent need for expression, she constructs the metric of her life among poems, although they haven´t known yet the existence of ink on paper, but she does not rule out any possibility .
For now, it is possible to find her poetic task in different places on the net. Places where she has stationed a record love affair between her and the moon, her mistress, her lonely retreat. Perhaps a prayer tool to find in the Other, the embrace denied on those days off, dipping her in a contemplative lyricism where she, the moon prism, will announce her feminine gender.
Montse, your first poem, "in light of what situation when was it born?, and from that vivid moment what memories would you like to share?
It was born from living my mother's pain, suffering from enormous and scandalous moments of silence while my father was a chauvinist with Catholic right ideas. He held them all ... my mother, my brothers ... me (...)
Woman, art and feeling... What is your relationship with yourself?
There is a total symbiosis between a human woman and the poetic essence, it is a way of life and create. All the while I do not know where one begins and another ends...
The contemporary woman learns to live by coupling different facets and rhythms while s she lives the moment, what challenges have you had to face to be a wife, a mother, and yet, a lover of literature?
The challenges are the solitude of a runner, with all advantages and disadvantages of being. It's a total adventure and I am adventurous.
Do you think your life has been conditioned by the circumstances?
We are always conditioned by the circumstances but if the spirit is free, it struggles to adapt to or to overcome those circumstances if they are adverse.
There is a figure of speech in your poetry, an element of inspiration, of course you know who I mean...
Yes, the moon, symbol of the unattainable, the dream, the beauty, the sensitivity, the mystery... the magic! "Half moon cake, melted in my mouth, and my dreams, and you ...! Midnight in the window, the heart dilutes, and my songs on the pillow. Half voice, only whispers to infect the soul. And you hardly listened!”
How do you nurture your moments of creativity?
The same poetry and my poetry readings yields are my food, coupled with my experiences in life. For example, when I have to start the car to go away, " Injured birds in the corners, a storm of kisses in the dark night. They hurt of course, open wounds, torn. Uncertainty is the answer. The humidity of that afternoon, undressed my landscape of the shattered heart. Messages were burned out, bobbin laces, and drainage. "
Why and for whom you write poems?
I write for an imperative and vital need to communicate my feelings. Writing is more than a purpose, perhaps an illness. The subtle dependence of the ephemeral word. Strokes on paper that mean something ... feelings, thoughts, or a adrift beating heart in each written letter. Licking with ink, the white of a paper and the drawn soul... aching in every line, when there are no kisses ... then, I have just that: words. "Nude with your dressed look with your kisses, captivated by your word. It moves the course of time, so small, so thick and shared. The decline has come. We have already gone."
The gigs you use to expose your work, Do they “meet your needs?
Yes, somehow... Sometimes somebody asks me if I have published any books. In fact, it's something I have not raised but I do not rule it in the future.
You describe yourself as a communicative being, cheerful, feminine, singular; sometimes, , flying lonely ... How do you enjoy the most? enjoying the solitude with yourself or when you surrender your partner love and if so, what does poetry fulfill in moments full of bliss?
I enjoy my solitude ,and by sharing it. One of my greatest joys is poetry, at any time and circumstance of my life. And the poem, runs its fingers on Montse´s response by craning her neck, spelling out instances when time and circumstances are bottomless void pieces ... "He told me: come! ... I said, I come! He loved me, without further ado, I wanted him without objections. He called me for coffee. He wanted to see me ... I went! We loved each other at last! And then ... we left each other. As usual...”
"As usual ... In order not to fail again ..." The anonymous heroine of a lost story in any corner of time, emerges in Chapter 47, giving life to Fernadina...
"Whenshe smelled good males in the bar, or on the street, Fernadina´s, skirts were upenough to show their calves, or she unbuttoned a bottom from her shirt, showing an insinuating neckline ... The lunar libido was a cross she couldn´t bear, especially whenshe could not flirt anybody. Decidedly, maturity, led her in a wrong way. Her powerfulinstinct was her undoing. She did not let slip any opportunity. The experience gained over the years, made her a shrewd and daringwoman. She knew how to handle any situation, by strange and unexpected they were. When necessary, she kept quiet and lookedaskance, at other times, she was open and showed the most beautiful smile. She knew how to dazzled men and women. However,despite her strategies, she did not often achieve her goal. Far from being disappointed, she let the days pass, accumulating wisdom,and through some verses, she drew conclusions, not to longer fail.
Traducción a cargo del filósofo: Alberto Pousa Torres
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EntreVistArtista es un proyecto unipersonal, independiente, sin fines de lucro. Autora Rosa Matilde Jiménez Cortés. Publicación en exclusiva para en el Diario "El Sol de Córdoba" en Córdoba, Veracruz; México. Colaboración especial de: Mónica Jiménez Cortés y Alberto Pousa Torres.
