Wednesday, December 30, 2009

the cave

today i was taken back to plato´s cave. this allegory had a huge impact on me during my 12th grade philosophy class.
more so when our teacher, ms. kate (still one of the best teachers i´ve ever had), left this as our final exam:
an essay narrating our take on plato´s text and a visual representation of it.
artsy assignments always got me excited back in high school. when most of my friends were taking art class for the easy A, i was the geek doing the mural with miss flor (miss flor scared me, she/he made us buy her crappy art book the first semester of class with her, those illustrations still haunt me). i wonder what ever happened to that mural?
anyways i think i couldn´t sleep thinking of what i would do.

so now that i´m done with prefacing this...
i was watching the sunset over the ocean (no surprise there), a glass barrier marked a division between me, a cliff, the ocean, the sky, and the sunset, the glass stood at eye level, there were reflecting images of my family on the surface, they were sitting behind me, eating dessert and drinking coffee, each of us having our own dialogue with the moment.
this song played on as i sat still for the whole 7:04 minutes analyzing what is it that i actually want for the upcoming 2010, and how this whole scene was my contemporary version of the cave. it got me thinking how we know something so beautiful is sitting in front of us, waiting to be acknowledged and thoroughly experienced, is taken for granted. i´m not saying we shouldn´t drink coffee or that we should stop having dessert just to watch a sunset, my point is that the beauty, the chance, and the odds are always there, waiting patiently to be materialized.

happy 10.
as nostalgia fades away, i have a feeling it´ll be better than 09.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Thursday, December 17, 2009


once i heard one had to get lost to find themselves.
seems accurate.

some very good insight was handed down to me tonight, might just be right, i think i´ll begin right there.


Thursday, December 10, 2009

mannequins & cave men

taking a huge step away from painlevé´s science is fiction...

mannequin was one of my favorite movies when i was like 5 & jefferson starship´s nothing´s gonna stop us made me wanna cry, even if i didn´t understand what it said.
and that´s my queue to see it again, it´s probably going to be terrible, like encino man... the only thing worth encino man is obviouslyyy pauly shore.

Monday, December 7, 2009

science is fiction


les cristaux liquides

le vampire

jean painlevé conjures sea urchins, octopi, underwater worms, crabs, seaweed in these inspired little pieces. portraying each creature with human traits. all symphonic, poetic dances and close-ups under the surface.
soundtracked by yo la tengo, the sounds of science, takes us through each short, reminiscing on the past century.

Sunday, November 29, 2009


not to be mistaken for youth without aim or aspiration, slacker (1991, richard linklater) is the portrayal of various discursive minds roaming the streets of the texas capital, "deeply" wanting to change the world around them, but mistaking socializing with evangelization along the way.

partly sympathetic, partly satirical, beginning with the movie´s title.
the "independent" type caught up in this conceptual web of somewhat utopic but true notions of reality...
a slightly pretentious self-indulgent text that takes a crack at the life ponderings of a whole range of intellectuals and pseudo intellectuals, all commenting on "structure", "order", chaos. the film is narrated in this chaotic turn of chance and rhizomatic encounter that left me hanging on each syllable.
a chain of random thoughts that manage to weave themselves into the next, even though the previous seemingly has nothing to do with the quickly arriving array of events. a pastiche of fragments and philosophical inquiries that have become tangled in our immediate and automatic responses.
topics ranging from parallel realities, conspiracy theories, anarchic fantasies, a smurf and krishna theory (how they´re both blue), and basically everyone "selling" their truth to the person beside them.
the evasion of frustration... thinking the okay, good, or great ideas, and not knowing how to put them into action.
i began considering the hypocritical nature of the thought thoughts without kinetic energy, left to be taken by time and the undone acts forgotten by the passing of the days. procrastination.

for me, one of the highlights of the film include the opening scene when the director richard linklater is taking a cab and talking about how as soon as we begin having choices, parallel realities are constructed (my hook).

and personally i could sum up the movie in this phrase:
"the tragedy of life is that man is never free... the more the pain grows, the more this instinct for life somehow asserts itself.. the necessary beauty in life is to give yourself to it completely, only later will it clarify itself and become coherent."

and not without a madonna pap smear.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

the art of being grateful

i came back to ny after three months of leaving, it felt like a quick return. i still feel like i´m assimilating all the things that happened on my last trip. on this occasion it has been more of a mapping of experiences, retracing steps, and moving forward. lingering in the past, but moving on to the present/future.

i received an email from my father yesterday around 2 am here/1 am mexico, he was wishing me a happy thanksgiving, and telling me other stuff. he got me thinking on direction, instinct, and trust; figure out what direction you want to go, walk firmly north/south/east/west, trusting with some strange intuition that life will eventually lead you to the place you need to be.. story of my life, sometimes i have to remind myself to keep gliding, taking the good, learning from the "bad", repeat.

it astounds me how we´re standing side by side so many people on this automatic impulse to move forward, most of us don´t know where we´re moving, we just know we have to wake up and move... what fuels the impulse? why do we want more? what mechanism sparks the one step after the next?
it´s this longing to feel alive right? and how we pinch the air for it to react.
and all of us essentially looking for the same thing; integrity, grasping a whole/hole for a rough instant.

it´s so strange to live this pre-thanksgiving buildup after not living it for more than 10 years, my family still celebrates back in mexico and to me it was just some other night where we got together and my mother made pre-christmas turkey, didn´t take much account of it until now and didn´t really understand why they still celebrated it. it felt ridiculous telling your friends that you´re having thanksgiving dinner, and you couldn´t go out. now that i am "consciously" back here, i kind of get it. i´m beginning to observe what it means to so many people. i mean this is the city that makes you move away from your family, it´s the city that makes you fight and squirm to move every which way on your own, where you never actually feel alone because you´re always surrounded, that´s why the loneliness is bearable (the distraction), here is where you can have so many things instantly (all an illusion). the city is starting to feel a bit "empty", everyone´s gone back "home", back to some origin, some place where it all began, the smell, the sight, the surrounding, remembering when you thought everything was possible, a comfort zone.
a second to come back,
another second to numb that out.

a void everyone is trying to fill, swapping cards to see what fits, constructing the puzzle, figuring out the instructions of the map, creating the way, inventing the directions... the city you had in mind.

as i was writing, i let prefuse 73s -meditation upon meditations- play on, a fusion of jazz, idm, and of course, glitch electro, characteristic of mr. scott herren. i think it´s a pretty good instrumental album for cold nights, goes well with a oversize grey knit sweater and a cup of berry infused tea.

on some other note, i´ve been getting comments on how i´m a nice person, i´m not actually sure how this makes me feel... i´m not sure i like being nice, is that bad?... should i be grateful for being nice?

i feel so disperse, i´ve been trying to write this for a while and i´ve been going back and forth from twitter, facebook, cellphone, phone, hotmail, youtube, blogger, gmail, zipeg, some movie on tv, liquor store, shower, joe goddard, prefuse 73 and a couple of four tet remixes.
i´m not even sure if what i´ve written makes any sense or if i like what i wrote, i had to write it... so i´ll hit publish post and i´ll be off.

Monday, November 16, 2009

oceans in a meteor shower

I was feeling pretty good
Thought I finally understood
How to be free, free, free, free
Like the birds, like the bees
Like the wind in the trees
So I went out on a limb
Thinking maybe we could swim
Into the river of light
Into the ocean of pain
Where angels get their wings
Where babies get their names
I wonder if you were aware
How much
You rock my boat
I wonder if you were aware
How much
You rock my boat
I wonder if you were aware
How much
You rock my boat
You rock my boat

it was my birthday this weekend, i´m being very specific, and i´m still pretty much lost in translation, but this could sum it up, except the part where it says:
"Where angels get their wings
Where babies get their names"...
that´s just wayyy too cheesy for anyone to handle, even for one who is sentimental, or dramatic.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

god, science, life, death

this quote has been circling my mind ever since i left the airport...

shit turbulence.

it always crosses my mind that i´m going to die every time i´m on a plane, i´m always sarcastic about it because i don´t usually get scared, so i think, "what if this is the airplane that´s going to fall, even if everyone tells you it´s the safest way to travel?", or what if it´s my turn or whatever..
i find comfort knowing that if i do die, my life has been awesome, even if some parts haven´t been all that much, i couldn´t really complain, i feel happy... anyways, way too much melodrama for this blog and for my arrival at my always favorite destination..

so i´ll leave the quote i was talking about in the beginning, it ties into flying in the sky and feeling so small among the immensity of space/time, and at the same time feeling contained in our ever expanding universe.

poets say science takes away from the beauty of the stars- mere globs of gas atoms. nothing is "mere". i too can see the stars on a desert night, and feel them. but do i see less or more? the vastness of the heavens streches my imagination- stuck on this carousel my little eye can catch one-million-year-old light. a vast pattern- of which i am part- perhaps my stuff was belched from some forgotten star, as one is belching there. or see them with the greater eye of palomar, rushing apart from some common starting point when they were perhaps all together. what is the pattern, or the meaning or the why? it does not do harm to the mystery to know a little about it. for far more marvelous is the truth than any artists of the past imagined! why do the poets of the present not speak of it? what men are poets who can speak of jupiter if he were like a man, but if he is an immense spinning sphere of methane and ammonia be silent?
richard feynman

i love flying.
this is what came along with my ears (gracias a dea & a alex por el regalo pre-cumpleaños.)

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

making lists

color coordinating my shelves
30 min looking for the right pen
making tea
jumping from one idea to the next
checking emails
writing emails
making tea
starring out the window
smoking a cigarette
tapping pencil
doing 8 things at once
getting drunk
avoiding the inevitable
not finishing something.....
not knowing how to finish something.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Monday, October 26, 2009


count me in for architecture inspired anything..
OMRs opening for the jorge mendez blake´s 3 bibliotecas.

architecture, the space that contains, books, and trees..
such coherent elements in a chain of imperfect ideas.

how fitting to see the clear imposition of the "artificial" in nature.
yet nature returns with such artifice as the death of the author mr. roland barthes so wisely stated in his essay.
the author exists only by his text, there is no author without a text, thus there is no creator without a creation. & vice versa.
all this left in the hands of the spectator.
"readers must separate a literary work from its creator in order to liberate it from interpretive tyranny"...
i would ask barthes to please give me the formula on how to liberate myself from my subconscious.

art tends to stray far from subtracting the creator from the creation, even if some claim to do this in a noble manner, i have not yet met the artist who has successfully denied his ego, barthes just points us in the right direction.
a process maybe.

another discourse that also came to mind was foucault´s text on the panopticon, blake did these drawings with charcoal picturing a tall tower in the middle of the forest..
the tower, watching over the forest in an "omnipresent" manner, the artificial, the man made, serving as the obliteration of the organic...
the weight of structures constructed upon a space that has no physical words in response.

i saw a full circle assembled in this short but complete exhibition of work; the library, infinite texts that have been written, all sculpted out of a tree... forming an intrinsic, yet subtle whisper of our future movements that irrevocably will have a profound effect on the world around us.

hard to find some type of catharsis amidst the spectators, a note worthy experience, and i found myself, hungover ameliorated, continuing the dialogue in my head...
my head was saying this..
searching for the interesting title, a captivating preface, a pretty cover...
the endless works and words written all contained under a single roof, circular walls forming a cycle, mirror making shapes, sentences waiting to be chosen, or forever lost in the decay of time over a page of once white paper.

a cleaver way of saying everything is giving a book a blank cover..

blake did it right.

Plaza Río de Janeiro 54
Colonia Roma
México 06700 DF
T +52 55 /5511 1179/5207 1080
F +52 55 /5533 4244

Horarios de atención y visita a la galería:
Martes a Viernes de 10 a 15 hs. y de 16 a 19 hs.
Sábado de 10 a 14 hs.

Thursday, October 15, 2009


what an adequate name for something.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

guilty pleasure

· not sleeping.
· sleeping.
· being a geek.
· finding amazing things for less than 100 pesos.
· taking wayyy too many pictures of sunsets/sunrises/sky.
· having wayyy too many pictures of myself on facebook (thanks mr. drama for pointing that out./ he´s just jealous because he wants more photos of himself).
· over conceptualizing.
· bear grylls.
· hooters buffalo chicken sandwich (best hangover food).
· showering at 1 am.
· dos equis ambar.

Monday, October 12, 2009

"cogito, ergo sum"

chapter 1 of "cosmos & psyche" by richard tarnas quotes descartes, "i think, therefore i am". undeniable building block of western philosophy and origin to a new perspective.. thus spouts forth a 569 page analysis into the understanding of our universe and our existence.
seems like this will be a transcendental and revelatory walk/jog/run into fathoming a complex yet diminutive period of the human timeline.
can´t wait.

in the meantime...
an exert from cosmos & psyche by r.t


skepticism is the chastity of the intellect, santayana declared and the metaphor is apt. the mind that seeks the deepest intellectual fulfillment does not give itself up to every passing idea. yet what is sometimes forgotten is the larger purpose of such a virtue. for in the end, chastity is something one preserves not for its own sake, which would be barren, but rather so that one may be fully ready for the moment of surrender to the beloved, the suitor whose aim is true. whether in knowledge or in love, the capacity to recognize and embrace that moment when it finally arrives, is perhaps in quite unexpected circumstances, is essential to the virtue. only with that discernment and inward opening can the full participatory engagement unfold that brings forth new realities and new knowledge. without this capacity, at once active and receptive, the long discipline would be fruitless. the carefully cultivated skeptical posture would become finally an empty prison, an armored state of unfulfillment, a permanently confining end in itself rather than the rigorous means to a sublime result.

first, the profound metaphysical disorientation and groundlessness that pervades contemporary human experience: the widely felt absece of an adequate publicly accessible larger order of purpose and significance, a guiding metanarrative that transcends separate cultures and subcultures, an encompassing pattern of meaning that could give to collective human existence a nourishing coherence and intelligibility.

second, the deep sense of alienation that affects the modern self: here i refer to not only the personal isolation of the individual in modern mass society but also the spiritual estrangement of the modern psyche in a disenchanted universe, as well as, at the species level, the subjective schism separating the modern human being from the rest of nature and the cosmos.

and third, the critical need, on the part of both individuals and societies, for a deeper insight into those unconscious forces and tendencies, creative and destructive, that play such a powerful role in shaping human lives, history, and the life of the planet.

these conditions, all intricately interconnected and interpenetrating, surround and permeate our contemporary consciousness like the atmosphere in which we live and breathe. from a longer historical perspective, they represent the distillate of many centuries of extraordinary intellectual and psychological development. the compelling paradox of this long development is that these problematic conditions seem to have emerged from, and be subtly interwoven with, the very qualities and achievements of our civilization that have been most progressive, liberating, and admired.


cosmological situation today

in the course of the past century, the modern world has both seen its greatest ascendancy and its unexpected breakdown. every field and discipline, from philosophy, anthropology, and linguistics to physics, ecology, and medicine, has brought forth new data and new perspectives that have challenged long-established assumptions and strategies of the modern mind. this challenge has been considerably magnified and made more urgent by the multitude of concrete consequences produced by those assumptions and strategies, many of them problematic. as of the first decade of the new millennium, almost every defining attitude of the modern world view has been critically reassessed and deconstructed, though often not relinquished, even when failure to do so is costly. the result in our own, postmodern time has been a state of extraordinary intellectual ferment and fragmentation, fluidity and uncertainty. ours is an age between world views, creative yet disoriented, a transitional era when the old cultural vision no longer holds and the new has not yet constellated. yet we are not without signs of what the new might look like.

recently there have been emerging from the deconstructive flux of the postmodern mind the tentative outlines of a new understanding of reality, one very different from the conventional modern view. impelled by the developments in many fields, this shift in intellectual vision has encompassed a wide range of ideas and principles, among which can be identified a few common themes. perhaps the most conspicuous and pervasive of these can be summed up as a deeper appreciation of both the multidimensional complexity of reality and the plurality of perspectives necessary to approach it. closely related to this new appreciation, both cause and effect, is a critical reappraisal of the epistemological limits and pragmatic consequences of the conventional scientific approach to knowledge. this reappraisal includes a more acute sensitivity to the ways in which subject and object are mutually implicated in the act of knowing, a revised understanding of the relationship of whole and part in all phenomena, a new grasp of complex interdependence and subtle order in living systems, and an acknowledgement of the inadequacy of reductionist, mechanistic, and objectivized concepts of nature.

_gracias a alejandro por compartir su insight a este libro.

Monday, October 5, 2009

short circuits

on another and less ephemeral note, my fingers, eyes and ears bumped into the bugged out/bugged in remixes by hot chip, released earlier this year. it´s about as random as it gets, ranging from techno, downtempo, experimental, dubstep, calypso, 80s classics, expected r&b, rap, & other additions.
what glues this pastiche all together is hot chip´s almost unmistakable electro sound and alexis taylor´s beautiful honey producing mouth... evidently, not a whole lot of glue.

as 42 tracks poured into my itunes, i must admit i got pretty excited. a part from my brief and vague chat a few months ago with al doyle, telling me he likes INXS and his wife works at commes des garçons, that was pretty much it for 09... i needed more, made in the dark seemed so far away, and haven´t been able to listen to ABOUT...
so i wondered off into hot chip´s psyche. (here is where i would like to point out that i consider myself the over-analytical type of fan that doesn´t get enough with a plain "hot chip is a british electropop band...". but i guess most of you already deduced that.)

i felt like bugged out totally redounds on the instrumental, then gradually and painfully turns ibizaesque (a mistake i tend to do myself on my mixtapes, the instrumental not the ibizaesque part)...
disc 1. finally vindicates itself on its "intermission" (track 13-14) with hot chip´s take it in, then continues on flatlining up until ican´s chiclet´s theme, ending on max cooper´s i.
formula = putting three of their favorites at the beginning, one in the middle and two at the end = everything else has a hard time keeping up.
it begins and ends well, burning in the middle (i´m not referring to the good type of heat, but the bad one, the one that actually makes things turn into ash).
a part from that, no noteworthy punch.
bugged out could be characterized as a DFA/LCD soundsystem dj set, infinite sound alliteration, which made me yawn and if i hadn´t had a bit of peace of mind, i would not have been able to go through with it
what i could say is that hot chip (in this series) definitely has the ability to weave a very long thread and make it seem like it is made out of the same material, you hear the first 24 tracks and each song flows and fits like a puzzle into the next. chronologically shameless. its shame resides in the lack of spark that could make my mind flare (now i´m referring to the good type of heat).

i found the alluring, the aesthetic and admirable on bugged in, a far less club inspired compilation, which to me was the interesting part, it´s all over the place, chaotic and entertaining. totally nerdy, dorky and beyond, a retake on the kinks apeman, was the dork epitome for me.
it still flows, but a creative flow, not the boring and repetitive. seems like they´re making fun of everything. i can picture them doing the whole "i feel so cool listening and dancing cheesely to luther vandross and terrence trent d´arby".

favorites range from the exquisite winter home disco by the pictish trail, chiclet´s theme by ican, nah und fern by gas, which is perfectly layered into the first three tracks of bugged out, (this is the hook, at least this was mine), osborne´s 16th stage, hall & oats classic i can´t go for that, which is a bit predictable, but efficient, cheeky lyrics presented in shake a puddin´by dub narcotic sound system make me love this group, london town by man like me saying "get out your matching moschino´s and your gucci loafers oh/yo...", jaja, biz markie´s just a friend "have you ever met a girl that you tried to date, but a year to make love she wanted you to wait" is priceless. and an inevitable flashback to my childhood growing up in texas with zapp & roger´s i wanna be your man.

this piece of faded wisdom pretty much sums up the remixes.
"i´ll wine you, dine you, and then leave you, all in one motion"
technically 42 motions, and yes, i still want more hot chip.


yesterday afternoon, on my way to dinner, turned the radio on to hear a somewhat interesting interview with MURCOF, well to be honest the music did most of the talking.
it happened to be one of those moments when you´re hearing the precise song in the precise moment.
one begins tripping out and all of a sudden the surroundings dilute in a bleached out manner.
the funny thing was that i wasn´t even in "that" mood, i was simply driving, as my head was filled with a ton of involuntary and recurring thoughts.

texture out of sound
texture out of invisibility
touch to the unstructured
structure to the untouchable
abstraction of a reality,
to be heard on a roof.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Saturday, September 19, 2009

11th dimension... really?

is julian casablancas effing serious?

ok, so i checked out casablanca´s new song/solo project, of course i did, for me, it´s a no brainer.. and yes, anything that talks about dimensions, count me in.
simple equation:
julian casablancas + i´m a strokes fan + 11th dimension (ja) = it has to be good.
the answer to my equation was wrong.
the real result = i hadn´t heard such a crappy song in quite a long time.

i´ll give it to him, i´m glad he stepped away (at least as an experiment) from that stroke sound we´ve heard since this is it, room on fire & first impressions of earth... we all agree that their sound has pretty much stayed the same, and besides, if we want more strokes music posing as a solo project we´ve got albert hammond jr. for that..


the cover art (for the single).. sucks. haven´t we seen enough of these revisited eighties, neon, geometric shit, that only daft punk can pull off?
the song... sucks.
heard it twice, painful.

ok so some tips, and i´m really hating so i´ll get on with it:

1. lay off the synths.. this is not you.. i just can´t help picturing you on a island, dancing really cheesy in a hawaiian t-shirt.
no credibility whatsoever.
what happened to that fucked up lead singer we girls tend to be so unusually attracted to?
2. yes, please do collaborate with pharrell and santigold... we DO like to dance to that song.
3. ultimately, julian darling, stick to what you know.

sometimes the whole solo thing gets me confused.
maybe i´m being a bit drastic (and maybe i have to give the whole album a chance, which i doubt, this pretty much turned me wayy off.), but maybe i´m just predicting that if the strokes try to get away from their characteristic sound, it will be:
A. a total failure.
B. we´ll just keeping hearing the same thing over and over again... which i won´t complain, i think their three albums are, or will be "classics".

hear it here to see for yourselves.

Monday, September 14, 2009


....If the universe had expanded a little faster, the
matter would have sprayed out into space like fine
mist from a water bottle - so fast that a gazillion
particles of dust would speed into infinity and never even
form a single star.

If the universe had expanded just a little slower, the
material would have dribbled out like big drops of water,
then collapsed back where it came from by the force
of gravity.

A little too fast, and you get a meaningless
spray of fine dust. A little too slow, and the whole
universe collapses back into one big black hole.

The surprising thing is just how narrow the difference
is. To strike the perfect balance between too fast and
too slow, the force, something that physicists call
"the Dark Energy Term" had to be accurate to one part in
ten with 120 zeros.

If you wrote this as a decimal, the number would
look like this:


In their paper "Disturbing Implications of
a Cosmological Constant" two atheist scientists
from Stanford University stated that the existence of
this dark energy term would have required a miracle...
"An unknown agent" intervened in cosmic history
"for reasons of its own."

Just for comparison, the best human engineering
example is the Gravity Wave Telescope, which was built with
a precision of 23 zeros. The Designer, the 'external
agent' that caused our universe must possess an intellect,
knowledge, creativity and power trillions and trillions
of times greater than we humans have.....

cosmic fingerprints

Wednesday, September 9, 2009


Igai shikai hiroi
Katai kotai hiroi

Nageru haneru

Oshii kitai chigai
Gokai gurai furai

Nageru haneru

Sekai hiroi mitai
Yurui kaze wo hoho wo

Naderu nageru
Haneru nageru

Unexpected, sight, wide
Hard, solid, pick-up

Throw, skip

Shucks, expectations, difference
About five times fly

Throw, skip

World, wide, seems like
Loose, breeze, brushes, cheek

Throw, throw
Skip, throw


Sunday, September 6, 2009

present. future.

sometimes we must hibernate in the springtime to see that cave
the cave contains us in a place where we are awakened to touch our reality.
the cave that has no bewildering remnants of lights past.
just us, just this....


springtime makes the air humid as it illuminates the pavement.
human has made pavement their earth.
we were taught to walk on this pavement, to place our feet before it.
the earth that was once in origin, has now become distracted.
it has become its abstraction to the real.

the real as it is felt in my brain, or the real that is touched between my hands?
we choose.

memories of autumn make us smile and remind us that we have chosen to grow with flight.


clouds may bring larger shadows, but our shadows walk taller through the grass.

gratitude falls before my fingers and decides to expel words of bears, sea-horses and magenta turned cables.
i enjoy these words that have befallen upon my fingers, they move as if was no extra task, just a simple wink to a world that was barely met. it winked for some glimpses of time and space, but neither this time nor space has yielded unto the moment.

should is a word i like to forget, should forgets what has been done..

so now as i see this yellow stricken horizon, i understand, that the physics of our universes harmonize in the present, not in our lingering past.

_ as i was browsing through old emails, sorting everything out, i found this one i wrote on may 22.
foreshadowing the "present.future".

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


2:23am been going back and forth between cuernavaca and mexico city for the past five days, awaiting for my niece to come out of sisters belly. I'm at the hospital right now, tired out of my mind, coming back from a fancy dinner with the so called "industry" (i'm remembering this scene in adaptation where charlie tells his "brother not to call the industry "industry") ja. Faux pas on my behalf... sooo i'm in heels, black pants, a top i made (must admit, not very comfortable), white jacket, make-up, haven't taken out my contacts in two sounds like i'm complaining, but i'm not, i'm trying to make a point... My point is this: as i was standing outside my sisters room i heard her scream out in pain as in never heard her before. The moral of the story is one: i may never have children and two the good things in life cause us at least a little bit of pain, and no, i'm not a masoquist.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

between n7 & n8


dirty water
wet shoes
damaged feet

manhattan skyline
rusted fences

existentialism & human emotion







fiery furnaces



break in
shooting star





quantum mechanics








my nextel has been on SOS mode for the past three weeks (& nextel is changing their platform or something and i can´t fix it until tuesday).
my phone broke.
and my computer just crashed...

are my vias of communication trying to tell me something?
is this symbolic?

maybe i´m just relieved.
this means i´m getting a new computer.

Saturday, August 1, 2009


i´ll be presenting my first collection at IDM international designers mexico by the end of september, a new fashion and cultural event going on in mexico city.
the website describes a bit of what HALLEY is about.
pretty excited about it, i´m not doing a runway show, just a showroom exhibition, but still, i believe it will go well.
this is the beginning of the end...
my PAGE.


HALLEY is born out of the night sky.
Points aligned creating silhouettes. We are form, tissue... galaxies.
Reflection of space: objects.
The transition of an idea in fragments, becomes lost, united, broken and rebound. Always creating its total.
Concepts taken into their material shape.
The construction of a piece that has travelled from mind to paper, from paper to mind, transferring the infinite spaces of the invisible and the intangible.

Mind to eyes, to starry sky. Images fly from the vertebras that have been covered in life, protection comes to the tips
of my fingers and is thrown out into the void.

The map of invisibility, hung on the wall, breathing identity, awaiting appropriation.
Transforming itself into territory.


The webs of interconnectivity are being projected thousands of light years away, the sky that has been laid above our heads outlines universes from afar, we want to understand the distance, travel to other shores, sit and see the horizon light up, we wish to swim in suspended waters, understand the meaning of our being.
We constantly seek the instants that discover forgotten secrets/remembered moments.

Light touching from its origin to the eyes and back. We are the analysis that exists between the tangible substance and the world of idea. Ephemeral Mode, the translation, the transition and its expiration.

We are left with the sensation of travel, we manage to see it at a distance, it is contained in the air, it is incorporated into the skin and then... we see it make way to the intersections of space, time and body.

mh. 009

i know i know i tend to go on and on about space time and intersections, but i believe that is the abstraction of life.

Monday, July 27, 2009

big apples

once more in ny, this place is like therapy for my brain, toes and eyes.
the intersection of N people, heading in clashing directions, some survive, others fly.
new york is the best city to describe a place where there is no place at all, so many appropriations of a space which is constantly shifting and where its constant barriers say i belong to no one, but i want you to think i belong to you.

possession is a complex state of being.
we want to call this home.
yet i believe we possess nothing.

we walk and run and stay static in many places, dromology makes our perception of speed transit at distinct paces, this city pulses on this fact, everything moves at rates that don´t contain any specific pattern, yet they are all continually moving forward, but in endless directions.
i guess ones eyes must keep up with the fact that we all are treading towards the "end", when we must pay attention to the sparks, reflections, and refractions that lye in the middle.

high line park.
it rained, the sun was shinning on one side of the park and on the other it was pouring, my shoes got wet, i had an umbrella. the light was white, it lit up the water.
spencer finchs´, "the river that flows both ways" is simple (simple in the positive aspect of simple, meaning less is more) but extensive work into the analysis and the abstract representation of the color conditions of the hudson river in the period of 1 day.

a cigarette on the border of the water, a plane taking off in the distance, the sky cleared into yellow and beige shades, rocks on the shore growing electric green plants. a broken down dock, a rusted fence, the city in the distance depicting the imposed position of human in nature.. both subsisting out of one another to create eccentric harmony.

glorious intoxication brewed by skies, rain, sun, rocks, pavement and old traintracks.

Monday, July 20, 2009

wa wa wa woww

best news arrives by "post"...
a postcard from erlend Øye writing that the new kings of convenience album will be ready by the end of september, then they will be touring and with no doubt i believe we can expect a concert here in mexico around the end of the year.
i think i almost cried.
happy happy happiest day.

a radio rip for a new song mrs. cold from their new album is available here.

with all implied redundancy, once more.

Sunday, July 12, 2009

On Allen Ginsberg & Joy Division

listening to joy division, i decided to take the afternoon and read, HOWL by Allen Ginsberg seemed a likely choice, it had been a gift and was patiently waiting for me... the colors that were being painted outside my window had a strange lighting; yellow and grey... the shadows struggled to have it´s last seconds of the day... this inspired the setting... i quickly got into it and let the music run on, as i finished the book, an unusual feeling crept into my mind for the pairing of both...
both sublime tragedy..
so i continue..

it´s truly interesting to analyze how ginsberg manages to paint such vast perspectives in simple phrases, phrases that turn ones mind into a channel of ones depths. the introspection on a poetry book such as HOWL, makes raw emotions symmetrically/ asymmetrically beautiful, real and human, visual images created through text and irony... a whole universe of reality is quickly presented before ones hand.
a cathartic experience is evident to say.
one that leaves this lingering feeling of truth and contemplation through life´s extreme dysphoria, bliss, and everything that lies in between.

fragment. HOWL & OTHER POEMS.

.... a lost battalion of platonic conversationalists jumping down the stoops off fire escapes off windowsills off Empire State out of the moon...
screaming vomiting whispering facts and memories and anecdotes and eyeball kicks and shocks of hospitals and jails and wars...
.. who broke down crying in white gymnasiums naked and trembling before the machinery of other skeletons...
.. who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads everyday for the next decade...
... or where run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality...
... who drove crosscountry seventytwo hours to find out if i had a vision or you had a vision or he had a vision to find out Eternity...
...who fell on their knees in hopeless cathedrals praying for each other´s salvation and light and breasts until the soul illuminated its hair for a second,..
... and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psychoteraphy occupational therapy pingpong & amnesia...
... and who therefore ran through the icy streets obsessed with a sudden flash of the alchemy of the use of the eclipse the catalog the meter & the vibrating plane...
... to recreate the syntax and measure of poor human prose and stand before you speechless and intelligent and shaking with shame, rejected yet confessing out the soul to conform to the rhythm of thought in his naked and endless head.

...Moloch whose poverty is the specter of genius! Moloch whose fate is a cloud of sexless hydrogen! Moloch whose name is the mind!...
... Moloch in whom i sit lonely! Moloch in whom i dream angels! Crazy in Moloch! Cocksucker in Moloch! Lacklove and manless in Moloch!...
... Moloch who entered my soul early! Moloch in whom i am a consciousness without a body!
::. Moloch! Moloch! robot apartments! invisible suburbs! skeleton treasuries! blind capitals! demonic industries! spectral nations! invincible mad houses! granite cocks! monstrous bombs!

i´m with you in rockland
where you laugh at this invisible humor
i´m with you in rockland
where we are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter.
i´m with you in rockland
where your condition has become serious and is reported on the radio
i´m with you in rockland
where you bang on the catatonic piano the soul is innocent and immortal it should never die ungodly in an armed madhouse
i´m with you in rockland
where we wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls airplanes roaring over the roof they´ve come to drop angelic bombs the hospital illuminates itself imaginary walls collapse O skinny legions run outside O starry spangled shock of mercy the eternal war is here O victory forget your underwear we´re free.

the room closed down on me, i expected the presence of the Creator, i saw my gray painted walls and ceiling, they contained my room, the contained me
as the sky contained my garden,
i opened my door.
...the animal heads of the flowers where they had arisen
to think of the sun.
... the privilege to witness my existence- you too must seek the son...
i am so lonely in my glory-- except they too out there-- i looked up--those red bush blossoms beckoning and peering in the window waiting in blind love, their leaves too have hope and are upturned top flat to the sky to receive-- all creation open to receive-- the flat earth itself.
the closet door is open for me, where i left it, since i left it open, it has graciously stayed open....

... how many flies buzzed round you innocent of your grime, while you cursed the heavens of the railroad and your flower soul?
poor dead flower? when did you forget you were a flower? when did you look at your skin and decide you were an impotent dirty locomotive? the ghost of a locomotive?
... you were never no locomotive, sunflower, you were a sunflower!
and you locomotive, you are a locomotive...

we´re not our skin of grime, we´re not our dread bleak dusty imageless locomotive, we´re all beautiful golden sunflowers inside, we´re blessed by our own seed & golden hairy naked accomplishment bodies growing into mad black formal sunflowers in the sunset, spied on by our eyes under the shadow of the mad locomotive riverbank sunset Frisco hilly tincan evening sit-down vision.

... to be so lying in the living
room drunk naked
and dreaming in the absence
of electricity...

Cildo Meireles.

at the almost culmination of a truly enriching cultural weekend, came the Cildo Meireles exhibit at MUAC.
as i travelled from room to room, the idea and conception of time, space, life, perception in general, became a bit clearer...
meireles, a brazilian born artist, manages an intense abstraction of the factors i just mentioned.. it felt like the spectator was being given a complete panorama into "life", the expo. travels through almost all sensory experiences such as smell, sound, touch, and sight of course..

his conception of space and how he represents it, is definitely precise, the merger of both time and space becomes this trip into a room full of clocks and rulers, clocks with time undone, and rulers in their skeleton form, numbers out of place, apparent "chaos", their true function blurred into a room of CHANCE... the "paradox" of these coexisting is when the spectator has touched that exact floor, at the exact moment, so that harmony may arise and their lines intersect.

stepping on glass, hearing the glass break in the distance, looking into a mirror without a face, a tower of radios, the music, the interference, the beauty and the frustration of the no-order...
taking the body into the art, the mind going beyond its vision, and acting upon the senses.
the real, the represented and the illusion.

it was enlightening to view this expo at this time, my thesis had something to do with the exploration of objects (specifically platonic solids) in euclidean space, how an idea may be mapped, and how its core meaning, its real reality (with all implied redundancy), how it´s transformed and how someone else perceives it... all being different points ARE contained in the same idea, they must coexist, and they must know that they are the same "thing" but at the same time, they are also antithetical.

once more, paradoxes are lovely.

exhibit_ july 2009- january 2010.

insurgentes sur 3000

Andrea Balency

honey flows from the mouth and fingers of this truly talented artist, the other day, i witnessed something that felt special.. she sang at bataclán.. amidst 40 people..
i don´t know why being there reminded me of this scene from 24 hour party people, when tony wilson describes he was witnessing history as he saw the sex pistols play a gig for about forty-something people.. and then he goes on in the movie saying, "the smaller the crowd the bigger the history".. he tells this guy, "how many people where at the last supper" (this got a laugh out of me.. )
(just wanted to point out that it felt special, maybe it´s not history, but i know and have this gut feeling that it will be something... maybe andrea balency´s music has nothing to do with the sex pistols, so i´ll continue)
the thing is this, andrea has this exquisite voice, i´ve heard her demo tapes, and she´s better live than on record, tell me how many artists have the privilege to be better live? plus she writes her own music, she plays the piano like she were drinking a glass of water, the accordion and etceteras.. she usually plays/sings alone, but the other day she was accompanied by two band members on counter bass and percussion.
harmony and honey is a perfect description for this 19 year old french slash mexican girl, who oscillates between singing in french, spanish and english...
passing on the information and hoping someone will check it out.
for that to happen, one must


she´s playing a gig with juan manuel torreblanca at casa hilvana on the 23rd.

Friday, July 3, 2009

es que veo clarerrimo a (blur)

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 1:55 del 02 de julio

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 1:56 del 02 de julio
barbijin intruso

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 1:57 del 02 de julio
intruso tu a (blur).
lleno de claridad.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 1:57 del 02 de julio
imaginariamente me encantaria que diario.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:00 del 02 de julio
no, no lo borro, barbijita acompañante.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:01 del 02 de julio
hasta que la barbijimuerte nos separe

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:02 del 02 de julio
obvio ratillita medianochera.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:05 del 02 de julio
adivina el juego de palabras mbjvj sólo tienes 2 shots... o words... y si barbie, i see the picture

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:05 del 02 de julio
hardcore malibu stuff

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:06 del 02 de julio

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:06 del 02 de julio
ok, i can´t see it.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:06 del 02 de julio
rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr hace la ratillita al ritmo de la canción

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:07 del 02 de julio
and then she goes woo hoo.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:08 del 02 de julio
cheque tu horóscopo

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:09 del 02 de julio
i´m a scorpio, by the way.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:09 del 02 de julio
es que es el chino

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:10 del 02 de julio
pelo de hijo único

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:10 del 02 de julio
junnney.. you lost me.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:11 del 02 de julio
napoleon blast

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:11 del 02 de julio
eat the fucking food tina.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:12 del 02 de julio
pásame el barbijin

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:13 del 02 de julio
honey te veo con muy buenos principios

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:14 del 02 de julio
honey, con muy buenos principios y morales.. con esa actitud no te pasaré ningún barbijin, just the malibu barbie hardcore shit

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:16 del 02 de julio
wait... now it´s just hot.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:16 del 02 de julio

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:16 del 02 de julio
mmmm 25 metros (manita "honey")

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:17 del 02 de julio
....dijo la nariz, la boca, la ceja, la frente y el ojo.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:17 del 02 de julio
y el barbijin

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:18 del 02 de julio
o la shancla

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:18 del 02 de julio
o el clush.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:20 del 02 de julio
si y fuera tu, vestiría a winna de pato

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:20 del 02 de julio
si yo

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:21 del 02 de julio
claro, si tú fueras yo.
y si tú fueras yo, también te vestirias de delfin.
como ahora lo hago.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:22 del 02 de julio
o de horóscopo chino.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:23 del 02 de julio
por eso robé los zapatos de umpa lumpa disco

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:23 del 02 de julio
o de jamiroquai.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:24 del 02 de julio
that´s what i like to call midnight fun, jamiroquai, oompa loompas, a pencil, and some cigarettes.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:26 del 02 de julio
barbie, you rock my world.

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:27 del 02 de julio
no, you do.

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:28 del 02 de julio
no you do

Dea Arjona ha escrito a las 2:29 del 02 de julio
y con ésta frase me despido "ya los cacharon durísimo"

Michell Halley ha escrito a las 2:30 del 02 de julio

_si alguién le está tratando de encontrar sentido a esta conversación, no tiene ninguno en lo absoluto.

en memoria de

Friday, June 26, 2009


so, i´m here, once more, after the chaotic end of my semester slash thesis slash final project slash in-concluded state in which i´m left in after finishing college...
so i´ve almost graduated, and what´s next, the first step is this deeply deep continuos soul searching...
so what have we missed out on?

i recently pinpointed i have minor dyslexia, (a word i had to spell check because it´s a word i think i had never written).. i say minor, because sometimes i can confuse the p for the b or the w for the m.. letters that quickly sort themselves out... anywho. i think i always knew i had it, it just never really got in the way.
i´m smoking a lot.. (which sometimes i love, and sometimes i don´t)
i´m doing exercise, something i hadn´t done in about two years.

ok.. so the world has lately showed me that it´s not what i imagined it would be, but what´s true is that it´s mostly worth living, i had begun limiting my opportunities thinking they weren´t for me, i begun stereotyping myself, what i hadn´t realized is that how the fuck could i know, if i had never tried it. so.. i guess i´m about to try everything.. or at least that´s what´s making sense right now.

my computer´s falling apart, i need a new one.

anywho.. otro dato es q he estado retomando a death cab for cutie, no sé por qué regresé ahorita a ellos.. pero bueno aquí estoy.. y soy su fans. creo q es por qué crecí con ellos y fue todo lo q tocaba mi cd player la segunda vez q fui a europa, y fue la primera vez q viajaba sola y q realmente me sentí sola. (aprendí a crecer mucho en esa época)...

on another note, been thinking a lot about life, love. and etceteras... my conclusion on life, is that we all have a huge power of changing ourselves, of evolution, of growing and progressing.
on love.. a couple of weeks ago, had a conversation with a friend who stated he didn´t believe in love, he didn´t believe in love in the sense that he didn´t think love was forever...i laughed naturally, and then was sent into weeks of analysis and contemplation into this subject, i was surprised on how much thought went into these words.. and then i found myself realizing i had always believed in the same statement, but had never put it into a phrase.. today, now, that i have given it more thought my outermost conclusion is.. whatever love i have to promise, i can only promise it for today...
podrán creer q es la versión diluída del amor, pero yo la veo como la versión condensada, es como todo el amor q tienes, lo das en un solo día y lo vuelves a repetir.

so today, this is what i feel, i feel we only have now (this instant as past/present and future) for everything, for this transformation, for whatever it is that we want... i don´t want to give out this "just do it" sort of trite sentiment, but it´s so true, humans at their most certain moment, is at this instant...
what else have we got?..

and p.s. i´m going blinder as each day passes. i think i should get my eyes checked... or maybe it´s just symbolic.

death cab tracklist.

(something about airplanes.)
your bruise.

(the photo album.)
steadier footing.
a movie script ending.

title and registration.
the new year.

what sarah said.
i will follow you into the dark.

(narrow stairs.)
bixby canyon bridge.
talking bird.
grapevine fires.

ah, y no tengo nada de sueño, conforme pasan los días, duermo menos.

Monday, April 6, 2009


el perro de unos amigos está desaparecido.
es como su hijo y para aquellos q tienen perros/gatos/goldfish/chango... saben q extraviarlo sería muy triste.
entren a este link/blog para ver si nos pueden echar la mano.
muchas muchas gracias..

Thursday, March 19, 2009

rhizomed mirror

para la continuación de este espacio, por un breve momento..
los invito al paseo.....

you shall find me..

Wednesday, March 11, 2009


hola a todos, escribo para contarles que del 23 de marzo al 3 de abril, estarán de visita por nuestra hermosa ciudad tres profesores de CENTRAL SAINT MARTINS para impartir un curso llamado FASHION SURGERY, consiste en tres bloques:

tomé el curso en octubre, fue una excelente experiencia, ayudó a fundamentar muchos aspectos del desarrollo de mi teoría/concepto, el transcurso de las ideas/inspiraciones, entender cómo materializar todas estas ideas y hacer un plan de mercadotecnia coherente con la propuesta.

de hecho hize un post del profesor q me dio el curso, IAN SCOTT KETTLE, gran tipo.. muy talentoso..
creo q les podrá dar mucho apoyo y claridad si en están en vias de desarrollar cualquier proyecto relacionado con la moda.
no tienen q saber dibujar, ni tienen q estudiar moda.
enrealidad lo puede tomar quién tenga interés en la moda, y quién busque crecer su conocimiento.
creo q les podrá abrir el panorama y ayudarles ver un poquito de realidad de este mundito.

si quieren info. dejen un comment.
me comunico con ustedes y les cuento un poquito más..
pueden escribir a con alicia

Wednesday, March 4, 2009


estoy confundida blogger me dice q ya no puedo subir fotos..
es posible esto?
help anyone?

chez danielle et brett.

Monday, February 23, 2009

off to guadalajara... dónde nadie te conoce.

punto número 1.
reading material for the road.

punto número 2.
me pregunto quién será el publicista de estos actores...
publicista. "galilea, tu fama está decayendo.. por qué no hacemos un statement q no has tenido sexo en dos años"
galilea. "wow! humberto, cómo no lo pensé antes, seguro eso revive mi carrera.

punto nùmero 3.
nota a publicista
mínimo le marcas a tv y notas para hacer este tipo de comentario, a bit more coverage... o de perdida posar para playboy.. (seguro ya lo hizo y ni me enteré)
en mi vida había visto "FAMA". sé maybe i live on an island.

si pudiera describir a paul con una foto, con esta sería.

roadside stash.

los integrantes_

aplauso al conductor

¿quién les dice a los pseudo intelectuales q le bajen?
esa era la razón por la q el asiento de atrás era dónde "nadie te conoce"....

en nuestros viajes siempre hay sexytime.

_producción de imagen abajo: alejandro grande.

_ martin margiela shades de kook.

su vista

mi vista

la vista

si fuera hombre, seria sébastien tellier

& de pronto la banda se llenó de puntos.

cat power

_retratadas por alberto

ghostland observatory
debo mencionar q fue de lo q más me gustó del festival.

mystery jets

mr. bufi/neon walrus
banda recomendada.. escuchen.


crudo regreso

la turisteada
si michell fuera casa, esta sería ella.
hermosa arquitectura en decadencia... ahh ahora yo le tengo q bajar a mi pseudo choro.

fue un pesado, pero muy buen fin de semana...
los highlights del festival incluyeron ghostland observatory, sébastien tellier (me gustó más aquí q en covadonga) y switch.
IMS y neon walrus también muy buenas presentaciones...
entré negada a switch, (porq para mi gusto, no empezó bien) y terminó como genio. nadie dejó de bailar, y puedo decir q fue la música y no la sustancia. (bueno a bit of both)

no me puedo quejar de ningún grupo, la verdad es q todos los q se presentaron son excelentes bandas.
y así va estar el de toluca chavos..
mi recomendación es q vayan descansados, q entre danger y el IMS, ya andaba muriendo.
vale la pena quedarte hasta el final.