Why Am I (Again) “in the clouds”? / Francis Sanchez

Francis Sánchez

Francis Sanchez, 1 March 2017 – I am re-opening this blog where I will publish my ideas without censorship. It’s been years since October 2010 when I started “Man in the Clouds” and after five months I was forced to stop updating it. All of the bloggers in Cuba were being accused at that time of being “cyber-mercenaries” – does anyone remember?

To say “blogger” – with the sense of self-determination and spontaneity that assumes this practice is outside control of the state – caused more fear than saying “zombie” (in the movie “Juan of the Dead,” of the same year, there is a scene very illustrative that remains as a testimony).

There were campaigns even on national television. Many of those who knew me in my small city – from people in my family to a priest – and some who secretly gave me access to the internet, closed their doors to me, or crossed the street to the other side. And “Closed for Demolition” was the last post I published (31 March 2011), saying goodbye to the readers. That episode I left untouched on the original site, because it explains itself.

The image of “being in the clouds” is frequently used to point out a person’s lack of practical sense. From my childhood, when I started to get interested in poetry and reading, I already suffered such accusations. But, the widespread “practical sense,” from the time I had the use of reason, is sometimes limited to unhealthy abilities for someone adapting himself socially, such as submission, lying, faking, egoism and many forms of civil cowardice. I have grown up confusing the call to virtue with the obedience of being silent, postponing dreams and my own ideas.

I return, now with a new digital address (Spanish version: www.francissanchez.net ). I am not the same, after several years. However, I will continue where I started, because I will continue to write what I think (and I will publish the photos I take), about readings, art, society, reality and imagination, human rights, and everything unpredictable beating within a very long etcetera. I cannot calm anyone or calm myself by announcing what will happen or what I will write tomorrow. In reality, I don’t know, nor do I want to. I am only attentive.