Joan Sebastián Araujo Arena
출생 : 1996-01-18, Mérida, Venezuela
약력
Joan Sebastián Araujo Arenas (Mérida, Venezuela, 1996). Philosophy student at the UCV. He has published some opinion pieces in the Chilean magazine "Humus" (in April, July and December of 2013) a literary review in the Venezuelan publication "Cannibalisms" (in June 2015), two film reviews on the electronic platform "Reflexiones Alternas" (in July of 2017 and January of 2019) and a poem in the Mexican literary magazine "Marabunta" (in April of 2017).
Narrator
Reading out loud one poem of Andrés Eloy Blanco, titled “Pleito de amar y querer” (Battle between loving and caring).
Editor
Reading out loud one poem of Andrés Eloy Blanco, titled “Pleito de amar y querer” (Battle between loving and caring).
Director of Photography
Reading out loud one poem of Andrés Eloy Blanco, titled “Pleito de amar y querer” (Battle between loving and caring).
Director
Reading out loud one poem of Andrés Eloy Blanco, titled “Pleito de amar y querer” (Battle between loving and caring).
Editor
The unbearable mundanity of being? Yes, the strength of what is eternally equal, a burden on our very lives. An empty discourse in favour of an order that grants nothing, but conformity. A thinking and acting dedicated to arrogance, to the sublimation of what he does not want to change, because he is too stable. The same inertia that, every day, takes a life; and returns a death. No, here there is no passion, no crime, there is nothing, but a method to try not to perceive subtle changes... There are no more poets or philosophers, nor even people; this whole vast world is made up of masked faces, in silence, before the very drama that, in their dreams, they would like to realize.
Director
The unbearable mundanity of being? Yes, the strength of what is eternally equal, a burden on our very lives. An empty discourse in favour of an order that grants nothing, but conformity. A thinking and acting dedicated to arrogance, to the sublimation of what he does not want to change, because he is too stable. The same inertia that, every day, takes a life; and returns a death. No, here there is no passion, no crime, there is nothing, but a method to try not to perceive subtle changes... There are no more poets or philosophers, nor even people; this whole vast world is made up of masked faces, in silence, before the very drama that, in their dreams, they would like to realize.
Director of Photography
The unbearable mundanity of being? Yes, the strength of what is eternally equal, a burden on our very lives. An empty discourse in favour of an order that grants nothing, but conformity. A thinking and acting dedicated to arrogance, to the sublimation of what he does not want to change, because he is too stable. The same inertia that, every day, takes a life; and returns a death. No, here there is no passion, no crime, there is nothing, but a method to try not to perceive subtle changes... There are no more poets or philosophers, nor even people; this whole vast world is made up of masked faces, in silence, before the very drama that, in their dreams, they would like to realize.
Writer
The unbearable mundanity of being? Yes, the strength of what is eternally equal, a burden on our very lives. An empty discourse in favour of an order that grants nothing, but conformity. A thinking and acting dedicated to arrogance, to the sublimation of what he does not want to change, because he is too stable. The same inertia that, every day, takes a life; and returns a death. No, here there is no passion, no crime, there is nothing, but a method to try not to perceive subtle changes... There are no more poets or philosophers, nor even people; this whole vast world is made up of masked faces, in silence, before the very drama that, in their dreams, they would like to realize.
Himself
The unbearable mundanity of being? Yes, the strength of what is eternally equal, a burden on our very lives. An empty discourse in favour of an order that grants nothing, but conformity. A thinking and acting dedicated to arrogance, to the sublimation of what he does not want to change, because he is too stable. The same inertia that, every day, takes a life; and returns a death. No, here there is no passion, no crime, there is nothing, but a method to try not to perceive subtle changes... There are no more poets or philosophers, nor even people; this whole vast world is made up of masked faces, in silence, before the very drama that, in their dreams, they would like to realize.
Editor
A short film inspired by the famous quote of the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Human, all too human”
Director
A short film inspired by the famous quote of the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Human, all too human”
Writer
A short film inspired by the famous quote of the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Human, all too human”
Director of Photography
A short film inspired by the famous quote of the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Human, all too human”
Himself
A short film inspired by the famous quote of the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche: “Human, all too human”
