the desired places

A few buildings away from mine there is this little place. I don't pass by it very often, cos is in the opposite direction to the tube which seams to be the only place I go to near my flat. It is small and just very simple, I wish I could use it, I have forgotten what for, all in uni seams to be about  sticking things in my sketchbook that demonstrate than when i  graduate I will know what to do in places like this. And for every page I stick on I forget one little thing I wanted to do in the first place.

Word count

how many words do you need to embrace someone or to reject them completely? None

366. Never push someone off a dock

'The view is better when you're not afraid of who is behind you.'

text from 'the rules for my unborn son'

I will never catch up

possibilities

what ever went away..

"you have been dead for so long...

wonder what keeps you standing.

still now. standing.

proudly. arrogant.

ever so empty."

                                31 March 2009

.. when I met you, you were all broken, not many could tell
it wasn't easy to see,

you tried breaking the walls I had built around myself,
perhaps testing if you could in the end come out from the ones you were then building...

I remember having thought that you had been so hurt that you had to build yourself an actual armor...
is kinda funny it was me the one helping making it..
at it was so tiring and in a way painful

it was in a time when there was nothing left of my own walls,
and I was so exposed to my pain it was difficult to stay standing..

but everybody looked just like their reflections..

"and so here I am
talking in a empty room
listening to my own voices
their echoes

inside this nothingness, the silence

many lifes have been left behind
and I've been left modeling the shape of my memories

you were always a better person
...before you got lost in darkness

in any case. I'm this container. of you. and all your faces.
let me dig a little deeper. i almost find you.

and sometimes i wonder if I'm digging to rescue or to bury you inside my many journeys
the real and the remembered ones

what will be left of me if you dissapear?
if there is no memory, emotions is what will be left.. perhaps
is that how I ended up being so full of them?

how did i get here, this empty room
will I be able to understand?
no-one to ask ... only this voices, the echos

and when it all will be finally gone

I will make you with my bare hands

out side
I guess I will always be a stranger"

                                           28 March 2009

Humans

"...you were always weird but i never had to hold you by the edges like I do now.."

who I am.. my identity.. my name and my background.. my parents. my school teachers.

this is who I am. this promise. an educated girl like me. is got a life promised. a good life awaiting. a dog and a back garden to look after when I retired.

anything you want is there for you to take... your dreams... what do you want to do when you grow up?

happy people know this. they are prisoners of their intricate constructions. they know they cant stop being certain that this is what they want or it all will collapse before their eyes...

I have work so hard for you baby, so you can have it all... all you ever wanted, the dog and the back garden...

this is who I am ... a reminder of your broken promises ...

they don't like to be reminded this is not what they ever wanted.

and I refuse the spectacle, I wont reproduce to eternity... may be, may be next time I will be a better person, may be next time I'll be happy

not humans left... only broken promises


 

Remember when we used to play?

Bang Bang, screen-print on magazine


I hit the ground, (detail) screen-print on magazine


Horses made of stick, screen-print on magazine


that awful sound, Bang Bang... after Richter

flying lessons ..

(thank you alia)

in the mist of the fresh ruins

yet always ever yet... somehow .. never ...

a puddle of light at the distance, the sea at low tide

good manners

que no bailara le decian los ingleses a la señora gorda, que aqui no se permite, pero la gorda que no entendia nada, la muy lationoamericana, que no sea mal educada que no ve que es un concierto? le recordaba la mujer de a lado.

you should not dance here said the english man to missis fat woman, that here is not allowed, but the fat woman would not understand a thing, such a latinoamerican; would you mind not being so rude? can't you see this is a concert? reminded her angrily the woman beside her.

to suggest

'To name an object is to suppress three-fourths of the enjoyment of the poem, which is composed of the pleasure guessing little by little: to suggest... there is the dream'

...somewhere, beyond the sea...

what are you playing at?

a veces mas tu a veces menos tu

may 2008

simultaneous demolition reconstruction

mexico city in on reconstruction... the pipes where rotten and the buildings broken... too many layers of history, too many memories forgotten... children play in the houses roofs.. they ran out of backyards... they became dangerous...

a retaining wall had to be build, right after the big hearthquake... it stops the tears for the dead beloved ones, for the buried ones alife...

then the dust came, and she forgot who was underneath...

....she stands on with hardened facade, covered in plaster, wires and waterproof paint... and tries to hide from her mirror image, in case big eyes collapse her walls... they took so long to be built that she forgot they were not there before...

surprised and almost amused she watches herself being discovered... and tries herself, with clumsy fingers to put the bricks where they belong...

August 18, 2008


..... but I have my box of colour pencils, and I will colour all the places... the grey ones, the forgotten ones... the drestroyed ones... I will colour all my places...  

Homesick

Is it the land? the piece of land?
is it the childhood's house? the back garden?
is it what the house contains? the pictures, the fish tank, the tea table?
is it the people? mom, dad, the friends and the neighbours?

it is the bits of heart that I give to each of them... and I left behind...
and the space in my head that reminds me you are gone...

2006.

between you and me there is water...

...just a little bit of water

if you were like me...

beachy head 22-09-08