Thursday, December 22, 2011

The Closet Voyeur

The Closet Voyeur along with The Story Bureau visited home for your eye delight and mine.
Below some photos, view whole post here.

Michell Halley from The Story Bureau on Vimeo.

Friday, December 16, 2011

Monday, December 12, 2011


Este animal está conformado por tiempo. Carente de cualidades espaciales, no puede ser percibido por sensibilidad alguna. Sin embargo, hay quienes afirman haberlo notado entre los límites de la conciencia; otros, haberlo escuchado en la progresiva absorción de los sonidos. Se le ha descrito como el desconocido reflejo de un espejo frente a la absoluta ausencia de materia, también como aquel lugar al que miramos fijamente cuando no se mira a ningún lado. No se sabe si es un parásito del hombre o al revés. Dicen que sistemas numéricos y formas geométricas son algunos de los resultados inmediatos de la búsqueda de su historia. Se desliza silencioso entre el orden y el caos, o entre los innumerables conceptos que tenemos de ellos. Al parecer, los grandes moldes de toda actividad humana lo configuran; por ello, permitiría una repetición minuciosa de la historia si cada uno de los actos humanos se borrase.


Sunday, December 11, 2011

Achronia, A Shoreless Ocean

Time was not "lost", "lacking", or "subtracted". Instead, the impression was of being beyond (any conceivable personal notion or conventional constructs of) time. No time existed. Neither this word nor this writer existed.

Now you may be able to glimpse the scope of kensho´s dissolution of time. For at each end, all prior limitations have lapsed. Only vacancies remain. At left, no archer, actual or implied. No notch at that back end during infancy. No feathered interval since then. Off to the right, no arrowhead points at some imaginary future. No willful complusion must fire any arrows off toward some actionable, longed-for destination.

Instantly, the former subjective sense of "time" has opened out, at both ends, into a zero state beyond timelessness. Off to the left? Nothing retrospective. Off to the right? Nothing prospective.

What happens within that (former) narrow "window of now?" It still registers, and encodes, the ongoing sequence of unique events. Part IX stands as a testimony that certain basic immediate memory functions still continue to encode and record, even in the absence of self, at least in some parts and connections of the hippocampus. but off in either direction a yawning gap opens out where the edges of that old time frame briefly vanished into perpetuity.

What impression remains when all these other dimensions of subjective time dissolve? Various languages substitute mere abstractions for these two openings out into a vacancy. Words such as beginingless past and endless future are not quite accurate. At least, not if you read "-less" to mean that the experiant was really noticing the fact that "time" had actually been subtracted at that very moment. No, that fact is not appreciated until later.

In English, the flavor of the experience points (imperfectly) above and beyond all words and time constraints, toward

E T E R N I T Y.

Zen-Brain Reflections
James H. Austin

Monday, December 5, 2011

Aware of My Own Ignorance

A basic option sustained on a notion of Equality. In politics, when people (myself included), are ill-informed and their idea of government revolves around misinformation or ignorance, the brain is left in some sort of obscurity towards the reality in which one lives (!!!), thus producing immobility or poorly aware choices.

In the current "light" of Mexico, maybe simplicity, and access to concise information may propose a clearer way. Leveling each member of this so called Society to what he or she is, a human, no one hightened, nor idealized, not even the politician.
Why on some basis of the collective unconscious is the politician supposed to made out of this incorruptible, to some extent unquestioned fiber, when we, in affirmation and in action do not believe it? Shouldn´t we be the first to plant incorruption to harvest that same thing?

I´ve never believed a man can be fully judged or ridiculed by a single mistake, no matter how huge, medium or small it may be. What I do believe is that the current situation with Peña Nieto has produced an invitation to consciousness, how much do I really know, or want to know about this man? Below some words that sparked awareness, not only directed at EPN, but at other elected officials who´ve headed this and every other country in the world (but mainly this one).

How do we, the majority, become smarter? Smarter for our own welfare.


Imbeciles rise to power either by hereditary right or, if the system of choice is elective, because they possess certain demagogic talents, or very often, because it suits certain powerful interests within the community to have an imbecile in office. Most modern societies have abolished the hereditary principle in politics; idiots can no longer rule a country by right of blood. In the world of finance and industry, however, the hereditary principle is still admitted; morons and drunkards may be company directors by divine right. In the world of politics, the chances of getting imbecile leaders under an elective system could be considerably reduced by applying to politicians a few of those tests for intellectual, physical and moral fitness which we apply to the candidates for almost every other kind of job. Imagine the outcry if hotel keepers were to engage servants without demanding a "character" from their previous employers; if sea captains were chosen from homes for inebriates; or if railway companies entrusted their trains to locomotive engineers with arteriosclerosis and prostate trouble; or if civil servants were appointed and doctors allowed to practice without passing an examination! And yet, where the destinies of whole nations are at stake, we do not hesitate to entrust the direction of affairs to men of notoriously bad character; to men sodden with alcohol; to men so old and infirm that they can´t do their work or even understand what it is about; to men without ability or even education. In practically every other sphere of activity we have accepted the principle that nobody may be admitted to hold responsible positions unless he can pass an examination, show a clean bill of health and produce satifactory testimonials as to his moral character; and even then if office is given, in most cases, only on the condition that its holder shall relinquish it as soon as he reaches the threshold of age. By applying thes rudimentary precautions to politicians, we should be able to filter out of our public life a great deal of that self-satisfied stupidity, that authoritative senile incompetence, that downright dishonesty, which at present contaminate it.

On "Inequality"
Ends & Means by Aldous Huxley

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Por si crees en Dios

Sólo a través de mi intuición veía posible una teoría que tocara los puntos a continuación. Llegué a toparme con la idea mediante un libro que habla de las intersecciones entre el Budismo y el Cristianismo... Aunque el término Apocatástasis sea absolutamente nuevo para mi, y lo de abajo un mero extracto de Wikipedia, me parece que define el amor infinito de Dios hacia su Creación y la esperanza de restablecer la armonía inherente, vivamos o no para verlo.

En mi noción de justicia, la profundidad de nuestras decisiones, la libertad que conlleva el libre albedrío, la causa, el efecto, me parece un trato justo. Delineando mi propio panteísmo/panenteísmo, hasta la propia personificación del mal i.e. "Lucifer" o como quieres llamarlo merece reivindicación.

Si es que la quiere, claro.


Es propio de la bondad de Dios -dice Orígenes- el que se manifieste por la creación y de su inmutabilidad el que cree desde la eternidad. El mundo de los espíritus, entre los que hay que incluir las almas de los hombres, es la primera manifestación o comunicación del Padre llevada a cabo a través del Logos. Todo humano fue creado ab aeterno y todos igualmente perfectos; y como la bondad no les pertenece por naturaleza, tendrán que decidirse a ella mediante el recto uso de su libertad. El abuso de la misma tuvo como resultado la creación del mundo sensible; en él se encuentran como en lugar de purificación mientras están como presos en cuerpos materiales. Esto no obstante, llegará el día en que todos los espíritus vengan de nuevo a Dios y aunque tengan que sufrir un fuego purificador, finalmente todos serán salvos y glorificados.

En lo expuesto hasta el momento en Orígenes ha sentado dos principios;

- Que Dios, como consecuencia de su bondad suma, ha tenido que ser el creador de unos seres espirituales y de un mundo sensible;

- Que dichos seres, con la prerrogativa de la libertad, son la única causa de la existencia del mal en el mundo.

En efecto, si Dios ha sido el principio, solamente Él puede ser el fin, "pues siempre fue semejante el fin a los comienzos", y se podrá decir que el mundo habrá alcanzado su finalidad en el momento en que la connatural resistencia entre la muerte y el demonio de una parte y Dios de otra haya desaparecido totalmente. Todos los espíritus, creados libres por Dios, conservarán eternamente su libertad y podrán simplemente elegir entre el bien y el mal: los demonios convertirse en ángeles, y viceversa, mientras que los hombres se convertirán en ángeles o demonios a no ser que hayan merecido seguir siendo hombres. No obstante, dicha evolución conocerá su término dado que la redención operada por Cristo tuvo por finalidad la restauración de todas las cosas; sin duda alguna, esta redención hace sentir paulatinamente su eficacia hasta el punto en que NADIE SERÁ SALVADO CONTRA SU VOLUNTAD. El mal no puede prevalecer con el dominio del mundo; si Dios lo permitió fue con vistas al bien; por tanto, las mismas penas de los demonios y condenados en el infierno no tienen otra finalidad que servir de enseñanza y de medicina. Así, pues -continúa Orígenes-, llegará un día en que todos los seres inteligentes, incluidos Satanás y ángeles rebeldes, entrarán de nuevo en amistad de Dios y Él "será todo en todos". Entonces todo lo no espiritual volverá a la nada y la unidad originaria de Dios y de toda criatura espiritual será restaurada.

Por si no

The apparent pointlessness of modern life in time of peace and its lack of significance and purpose are due to the fact that, in the western world at least, the prevailing cosmology is what Mr. Gerald Heard has called the "Mechanomorphic" cosmology of modern science. This universe is regarded as a great machine pointlessly grinding its way towards the ultimate stagnation and death; men are tiny offshoots of the universal machine, running down to their private death; physical life is the only real life; mind is a mere product of the body; personal success and material well-being are the ultimate measures of value, the things for which a reasonable person should live. Introduced suddenly to this mechanomorphic cosmology, many of the Polynesian races have refused to go on multiplying their species and are in process of dying a kind of psychological consumption. Europeans are of tougher fibre than the South Sea Islanders and become gradually acclimatized to the new cosmology. But even they have felt the effects of mechanomorphism.

They move through life hallow with pointlessness, trying to fill a void within them by external stimuli- newspaper reading, day-dreaming at films, radio music and chatter, the playing and above all watching of games, "good times" of every sort. Meanwhile a doctrine that offers to restore point and purpose to life is eagerly welcomed. Hence the enormous success of the nationalistic and communistic idolatries which deny any meaning to the universe as a whole, but insist on the importance and significance of certain arbitrarily selected parts of the whole- the deified nation, the divine class.

War brought only a passing relief to the victims of mechanomorphic philosophy. Disillusion, fatigue, and cynicism succeeded the initial enthusiasm and when it was over, the sense and pointlessness became a yawning abyss that demanded to be filled with ever more intenser distractions, even better "good times". But good times are not a meaning or a purpose; the void could never be filled by them. Consequently when the nationalists and communists appeared with their simple idolatries and their proclamation that, though life might mean nothing as a whole, it did posses a temporary and partial significance, there was a powerful reaction away from the cynicism of the post-war years. Millions of young people embraced the new idolatrous religions, found a meaning in life, a purpose for their existence and were ready in consequence, to make sacrifices, accept hardships, display courage, fortitude, temperance, and indeed all
the virtues except the essential and primary ones... Love and awareness- these are the primary, essential virtues.

The success of the dictators (some) is due in large measure to their extremely skillful exploitation of the universal human need for escape from the limitations of personality. Perceiving that people wished to take holidays from themselves in sub-human emotionality, they have systematically provided their subjects with the occasions for doing so. The Communists denounce religion as the opium of the people; but all they have done is to replace this old drug by a new one of similar composition.
(Decentralization & Self-Government)

Aldous Huxley, Ends & Means.

Thursday, November 24, 2011


The soul welcomes the passing of the old order and the arrival of the new, yet what is frightening is that the departing order leaves behind it not a child, not an heir, not a niño, but a pregnant widow and in between the death of the father and the birth of the child much water will flow by, long nights of chaos and desolation will pass.

When a marvelous new idea is born we do not change our minds at the snap of a finger, we may think we do but the unconscious is still with us. You know the unconscious belongs to the fathers, the mother, the past.

Martin Amis, paraphrasing Alexander Herzen.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Infinitamente Enamorada de la Aurora

La sublime iridiscencia que cobija este paisaje nos remite a un desfile de conceptos metapoéticos: la coexistencia de portales que acceden a realidades paralelas, el sueño manifestado de la divinidad, la hiperflexible perfección de la naturaleza, el canto de la sirena impreso en la bóveda celeste o el eco multicromático del axis mundi que nos recuerda que lo que es arriba, también es abajo. Sin embargo, más allá de dilucidaciones abstractas, esta majestuosa fotografía de una aurora boreal representa una sencilla invitación a una comunión silenciosa: simplemente observemos (11/11/11).

via PijamaSurf

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Hold your breath

Hold My Breath - Holy Ghost! from DFA Records on Vimeo.

This song put me in the best mood today. Check out the DFA cameos.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Let it Ride

The more you play the more you win.

via JDG.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Mutek Mx

Sony MUTEK MX 2011 from PFAS on Vimeo.

Estaré haciendo un par de entrevistas para el Mutek que comienza H O Y.
Los mantendré al tanto.
Les dejo el teaser.

Sony MUTEK 2011 presenta:


Toda la info:

Teaser reliazado por:

Tell me all the things you want to do

she´s hot ( H O T ) and she has a good voice.

i get the hype.

i can´t get this song outta my head.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

We kill what we build

I´d forgotten how much I love this track. The momentum created when one is reunited with such songs triggers a cascade of sentiments that make an experience memory-worthy. Yesterday as M83 played one of the best shows I´ve been to in a while and filled the empty spaces with mystery, this John Cage fragment came to mind..

"We carry our homes within us which enables us to fly."

A factor that makes music so compelling is it affects us in a direct-physical-individual-collective and at a level no one can fully describe; all at the same time. It´s abstract and ephemeral as far as both go, but the desire to have what we cannot hold remain, yet something always remains.
Making romance effective.

All of above

We are our own home.
Why are we inclined to kill what we build?

Monday, October 17, 2011

Mourir Auprès de Toi

Spike Jonze: Mourir Auprès de Toi on

A lovely animation created by Spike Jonze and designer Olympia Le-Tan.
To Die by your Side.

Sunday, October 16, 2011



via Whateva & @JMEA

Pieces of The People We Love

luke, futuro esposo.

de lo que más me gustó del corona.


Sunday Playlist.

no quise verlo ayer para no arruinarme la sorpresa de mañana.
no sé qué dice la gente que fue a M83... pero se me hace una banda para ver en full set, cero en festival.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Eventualmente... La Muerte vive, La Muerte muere, La vida muere, y la Vida Vive.

Iñaki Echavarne, bar Giardinetto, calle Granada del Penedés, Barcelona, julio de 1994
Durante un tiempo la Crítica acompaña a la Obra, luego la Crítica se desvanece y son los Lectores quienes la acompañan. El viaje puede ser largo o corto. Luego los Lectores mueren uno por uno y la Obra sigue sola, aunque otra Crítica y otros Lectores poco a poco vayan acompañándose a su singladura. Luego la Crítica muere otra vez y los Lectores mueren otra vez y sobre esa huella de huesos sigue la Obra su viaje hacia la soledad. Acercarse a ella, navegar a su estela es señal inequívoca de muerte segura, pero otra Crítica y otros Lectores se le acercan incansables e implacables y el tiempo y la velocidad los devoran. Finalmente la Obra viaja irremediablemente sola en la Inmensidad. Y un día la Obra muere, como mueren todas las cosas, como se extinguirá el Sol y la Tierra, el Sistema Solar y la Galaxia y la más recóndita memoria de los hombres. Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba como tragedia.

Aurelio Baca, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba como tragicomedia.

Pere Ordóñez, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba indefectiblemente como comedia.

Julio Martínez Morales, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba como ejercicio criptográfico.

Pablo del Valle, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia termina como película de terror.

Marco Antonio Palacios, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Lo que empieza como comedia acaba como marcha triunfal, ¿no?

Hernando García León, Feria del Libro, Madrid, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia indefectiblemente acaba como misterio.

Pelayo Barrendoáin, Feria del Libro, Madrir, julio de 1994
Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba como un responso en el vacío.

Felipe Müller, bar Céntrico, calle Tallers, Barcelona, septiembre de 1995
Todo lo que empieza como comedia acaba como monólogo cómico, pero ya no nos reímos...

Los Detectives Salvajes, Roberto Bolaño

¿o sí?

Saturday, October 8, 2011


cure for headache.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The End of Evil?

Neuroscientists suggest there is no such thing. Are they right?
Ron Rosenbaum

Neurons by Santiago Ramón y Cajal

Is evil over? Has science finally driven a stake through its dark heart? Or at least emptied the word of useful meaning, reduced the notion of a numinous nonmaterial malevolent force to a glitch in a tangled cluster of neurons, the brain?

And in reducing evil to a purely neurological glitch or malformation in the wiring of the physical brain, in eliminating the element of freely willed conscious choice, have neuroscientists eliminated as well "moral agency," personal responsibility? Does this "neuromitigation" excuse—"my brain made me do it," as critics of the tendency have called it—mean that no human being really wants to do ill to another? That we are all innocent, Rousseauian beings, some afflicted with defects—"brain bugs" as one new pop-neuroscience book calls them—that cause the behavior formerly known as evil?

This argument has been going on for more than a millennium, at least since Augustine proclaimed that evil was in the realm of “non-being," which seems to some a great evasion. Meanwhile pop neuroscience—and its not-very-well-examined assumptions—has taken center stage in the struggle to put evil in its place under the thumb of science.

Despite all the astonishing advances in neuroscience, however, we still know woefully little about how the brain enables the mind and especially about how consciousnesss and intentionality can arise from the complicated hunk of matter that is the brain. ... Discovering the neural correlates of mental phenomena does not tell us how these phenomena are possible.

The problem of evil—and moral responsibility—is thus inseparable from what is known in the philosophical trade as "the hard problem of consciousness." How does the brain, that electrified piece of meat, create the mind and the music of Mozart, the prose of Nabokov? Where is consciousness, anyway?


Ron Rosenbaum asking Jonathan Marks about the eradication of free will through neuroscience´s approach.

And he offered what I thought was one of the wisest responses to the debate over the existence of evil (and thus free will):

What he suggested is that we ought to act as if we had free will to choose good or evil.

And his warnings against the consequences of believing otherwise are validated by the fantasies of some fMRI enthusiasts. Consider, for instance, one of the more prominent new brain books: David Eagleman's Incognito.

In an excerpt in the Atlantic's "big ideas” issue, Eagleman depicts an Orwellian future in which fMRI scans will be used to preemptively identify those who have the potential to commit acts formerly known as evil, and prescribes for such possible malfeasants a regimen of "prefrontal workout[s]" to "better balance" those selected (how? by whom?) for brain remodeling.

He actually goes so far as to say, "Some people will need to be taken off the streets," on the basis of their fMRIs, "for a longer time (even a life time)." Neuroscientific totalitarianism invades your brain! The ultimate panopticon. No one seemed to notice or to care. It's science!

Read the rest


i was thinking exactly this today, not in scientific, but in spiritual, emotional, and psychological terms.

If this proof amounts to anything, I´ll use myself as an example...

Without having the slightest idea that neuroscience was up to the task... I began thinking about "The End of Evil" or the "Illusion of Evil", the concept was a faint whisper floating in mind for a while. In some deep part of my chain of ideas and beliefs there lay the question of insanity, how the mere thought could imply things that cannot be empirically proven or if taken to an extreme could turn us into:

A. Brave New World
B. Panoptically controlled robots (as the excerpt above mentions)

So the cloud lingered there...
Until today it manifested as something "concrete" with this article...

I do in some way believe that "evil" is a distant figment in and of our brain. I´d say Plato´s and Jung´s writings on archetypes would support the theory that the concept of "evil" has been imprinted on the unconscious mind since the biblical notion of Adam & Eve/free will, since the beginning of time, since the construction of our souls.

I´m not saying that evil doesn´t exist, it does and has. Many cannot conceive genocide, wars, mass destruction, as anything other than that, pure evil, and thinking "Evil is dead" would only justify it right?

In my mind, I´d disagree.

When man STOPS moving through dualistic notions as most "normal" human beings do, oscillating between love and hate in seconds time, and begins pulling all its little parts together into something greater than themselves; call it God, Jesus, Earth, Heaven, Humanity, Universe, Creation, etc. instead of the insignificant ego; "evil" will start dissolving into a distant and empty formless form.

i.e. I´d even dare to say pulling ourself together towards our own "true" self; in a sincere manner not in a self-destructive one...
The reader might ask how does one know if something is sincere?
4 basic principles that impulse:
1. Love
2. Liberty
3. Equality
4. Preservation of life

Utopic, maybe. Impossible, I hope not. I´m still trying.

So my question is, how is it at all possible for me to be aware of any of this? How is the conscious, unconscious, subconscious, superconscious sensitive to it? I have absolutely no clue about neuroscience, little knowledge about science, and a strong belief in free will, but at the same time inclined toward destiny... Is it all there suspended above our heads as if it were connected or something, waiting to be materialized? If it were so, what does that connectivity imply?

A. That we´re all the same. "All humans are equal". We essentially all come from the same place, wherever you believe that to be.
B. That this "oneness" exists.

All the ties, links, "coincidences", resonance, glitches, synchronicity, is what I find mind blowing and an utter mystery, and what keeps me coming back to the rhizome.

Everything in one giant nothing, or and nothing in one giant everything.

A special thank you to @unfolding for posting the link to the article.

La Société du spectacle

The spectacle presents itself as a vast inaccessible reality that can never be questioned. Its sole message is: “What appears is good; what is good appears.” Guy Debord, Society of the Spectacle, 1968

The shared consciousness, which is applauded as the global village, is a mere shadow of what’s possible.

Postmodernity is neither the enemy of handmaiden for Christianity, as pluralism has been ever present. While vanity and illusion take form in the latest sacred, media’s ultimately all-inclusive scope exposes the fault lines of its value system, and leaves only desire for more. We live on demand for the next best thing. We move easily on to the next one, because the last one, the current one, and even the next one are already overdetmined as temporary. This analysis cannot discredit the milieu in which relevance is upheld as a value, in part because this text appears through media, but more so because media is not to blame. Even nature has temporary forms, but valuing futility is an interest of men who exploit media. And while media can be used to correct how we are misinformed, reality is the place for genuine transformation.

Excerpts from Being Relevant: Confronting the latest sacred by Rachel K. Ward read the rest here.

Thursday, September 29, 2011


it struck me that the people you choose to work with, to surround yourself with in life and those you choose to love –these people say as much about you as you could ever hope to express in your own words.” –Kindness

se parece a ti.

via gorillavsbear

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Marking Infinity, Lee Ufan

I recently had the opportunity of visiting Lee Ufan´s show at the Guggenheim in NY, anyone who knows what I´m into knows the following:

A. How the abstract blows my mind.
B. The abstract-conceptual linked to any sort of philosophy is a shoe in for my own -mind fucking- experience.
C. Anything with the word "infinity" makes my heart skip a beat.

Beginning with this Frank Lloyd Wright sculpture - the museum itself -, has always caught my attention in its effectiveness in showcasing art. A bit ignorant i sometimes feel, when i don´t know exactly where the curated show begins or ends, or if I´m missing something in between, or if i should move clockwise or counterclockwise.

So, as a reaffirmation to Lee Ufan´s Marking Infinity discourse, the show was curated from the bottom-up (in contrast to how it´s usually curated, from the top, down), mirroring a spiralling seashell, (reminding me of Fibonacci´s golden ratio).

The Reflexion:

Revolving around the notion of encounter- seeing the bare existence of what is actually before us and focusing on "the world as it is".

"Expressive action begins with sensing a rupture in existence. The desire to eliminate this gap and become fused with existence itself becomes the will to create art"

"Perpetual passing of the present"

"Form is not static but a phenomenon of becoming"

Lee understood process as a system of connectivity between distinct components. " Each moment.. Occurs only once, but everything is a continuation of single moments, it is necessary for them to resonate with each other"

"The phenomenon of encounter is momentary.. In discontinuous, momentary flashes of light, it liberates human beings from one-sidedness and seclusion of the ego, if only for a moment . Unlike the human will, which always desires to define things and give them meaning or a place in history, the state of the world unto itself always teaches is that things are uncertain and indefinite"

Kierkegaard and Heidegger describe encounters as events attending the point of rupture between self and the other.
Nishida Kitaro as "pure experience".
Bachelard as poetic moments and
Baudelaire as correspondence.
A unilateral way if thinking is not involved in any ot these approaches.

The metaphysical relationship between being and nothingness.

"We can simultaneously sense existence and dissolution, genesis and extinction".

"Empty resonant space"

As objects manifest themselves as something pure and/or repeat themselves, there is an opening to a finite yet endless possibility of possibilities. A "pure" form, is just a pure form. A tree is evidently a tree. A rock, etc...
By seeing things for what they are is where this "finite" comes in, because the object is the bottom line, there´s no more room for word, image or text, which is beautiful to its own extent, but the opening of possibilities comes through exchange. What type of tree our mind links to the word or image of it, on the other hand, is never finite. This was what essentially attracted and moved me, how Ufan´s representation is so simple yet so mind expanding complex, evoking the pure form itself, and still taking us to many realms beyond it.

Kandinsky said in "Concerning the spiritual in art", that no form is formless. That nothing is shaped out of nothingness. What interferes or plays a crucial role is the context, the spectator, and the object(s). When one becomes unmoved by whatevers in front, we´re either lacking in context, space, time... Or, soul.


"If you refuse to let your own suffering lie upon you even for an hour and if you constantly try to prevent and forestall all possible distress way ahead of time; if you experience suffering and displeasure as evil, hateful, worthy of annihilation, and as a defect of existence then it is clear that [you harbour in your heart]...the religion of comfortableness. How little you know of human happiness, you comfortable...people, for happiness and unhappiness are sisters and even twins that either grow up together or, as in your case, remain small together"

The Consolations of Philosophy
Alain de Botton
via radicales libres

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Nuestros días pasan como suspiros...

Nuestra vida terrenal es frágil y corta ante El Creador eterno, que no padece cambios.

Antes que nacieran las montañas
y apareciera la tierra y el mundo,
tú ya eras Dios y lo eres para siempre,

tú que devuelves al polvo a los mortales,
y les dices, "¡Váyanse hijos de Adán!"
Mil años para ti son como un día,
un ayer, un momento de la noche.

Tú los siembras, cada cual a su turno,
y al amanecer despunta la hierba;
en la mañana viene la flor y se abre
y en la tarde se marchita y se seca.

El tiempo de nuestros años es de setenta,
y de ochenta si somos robustos
La mayoría son de pena y decepción,
transcurren muy pronto y nos llevan volando.

¿Quién conoce tú fuerza
y quién ha sondeado el fondo de tu furor?
Enséñanos lo que valen nuestros días,
para que adquiramos un corazón sensato*.


Que la dulzura de Yahvéh nos cubra
y que él confirme la obra de nuestras manos.

Salmo 90

*(Sensatez) Buen juicio, cordura , prudencia o capacidad de sopesar las consecuencias antes de actuar.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Friday, September 9, 2011

Of course the Dalai Lama's a Marxist

The Dalai Lama has a refreshing tendency to confound western caricatures. As a cuddly old monk, he could comfort fans by fuzzily connecting us to an imagined Shangri-La that contrasts favourably with our own material world. Only he won't play the game, regularly making ethical, political, scientific and (ir)religious statements that rudely pop the projections laid on to him.

He was at it again the other day, telling Chinese students that he considers himself a Marxist. This wasn't just playing to the crowd – although it was reported with surprise (at least in the US), the ideological alignment is longstanding. In 1993, he said: "The economic system of Marxism is founded on moral principles, while capitalism is concerned only with gain and profitability. Marxism is concerned with the distribution of wealth on an equal basis ... as well as the fate of those who are underprivileged and in need, and [it] cares about the victims of minority-imposed exploitation. For those reasons, the system appeals to me, and it seems fair."

There are a number of caveats (he's not a Leninist, believes compassion rather than class struggle is key, and doesn't consider communist regimes such as the USSR, China or Vietnam to have been true exponents), but the dissonance between image and reality remains – the Dalai Lama is not the comforting Oriental pet that consumer society might like.

Neither does his tradition match the capitalist fantasies attached to it. Perhaps because Buddhism came to the west on a wave of post-war hippy soul-searching, and was then co-opted as friendly religion of choice by new ageism and the self-help movement, its radical economic and social messages have been lost under an avalanche of laughing fat-man statues, healing crystals and copies of The Secret.

The very idea of self-help in Buddhism is an oxymoron – relief of suffering can only come from the realisation that pleasing ourselves doesn't bring happiness – instead we must try to work skilfully and compassionately with others, as part of interwoven systems of connectivity that bind us together. A "western Buddhism" that prioritises solipsistic focus on the individual is so great a misconception as to be unworthy of the name – or at the least the Buddhism part – as anyone who pays it more than passing attention knows. It's also largely a media invention – many western Buddhists are serious, deeply committed practitioners. That commitment means choosing to follow a path that leads against the stream of materialism and selfishness. Of course, we don't always manage it, but that's why it's called a path of practice.

Buddhism goes way beyond the confines of the personal – realising the truth of interdependence implies taking up the challenge of engaging with others in the wider world. This isn't missionary zeal – proselytising is hardly the Buddhist way – but it does mean social action that embodies dharmic principles, and western sanghas are increasingly prioritising community involvement. As they do so, Buddhism may start to look less like some nice bit of calm and relaxation and more like a radical, uncompromising critique of the status quo.

This critique has already begun to influence the UK mainstream. It's 45 years since EF Schumacher published his Buddhist Economics essay in Small is Beautiful, which the Times Literary Supplement listed as one of the 100 most influential books since the second world war. Though the male-centric, mechanistic world it describes now seems dated, Schumacher's outline of a world driven mad by consumption (and his Buddhist-inspired remedy of sufficiency and sustainability) has informed everything from the climate change debate to the happiness agenda – particularly through the influential New Economics Foundation (NEF) thinktank, which grew out of Schumacher's vision.

The well-being indices enthusiastically taken up by David Cameron have grown in part from NEF's links with the kingdom of Bhutan and its policy of favouring gross national happiness above gross domestic product. Is the prime minister aware of the Buddhist foundation to his plans for the nation's mood?

Of course, we're a long way from a government that looks even remotely dharmic. From a Buddhist perspective, only a revolution in our collective mind can counter the momentum that keeps us grasping for happiness in all the wrong places. And that would involve more than measuring whether someone with a job and a family in sunny Cornwall feels more upbeat than a lonely, unemployed Londoner on a rainy day. It would require systemic transformation on both an intimate and a huge scale, bringing the path of personal practice together with much broader societal shifts. Could this be what the Dalai Lama is thinking of when he describes himself as "half-Marxist, half-Buddhist"?

Article Via The Guardian By Ed Halliwell

Hoy el Dalai Lama en México

Monday, September 5, 2011

Thursday, September 1, 2011

moments of always within a never

"She wasn’t doing a thing that I could see, except standing there, leaning on the balcony railing, holding the universe together."

Thus, Speak the Chromograph by Eleni Sikélianòs

Saying: One night in a cloud chamber
I discovered a thing: that a thing (I used to have a crown
of light) a thing could be more
than True, and more again

than False, a thing
could carry its name

with a ticket of lights
called Possible: In a cloud chamber, particles are betrayed
by movement and water vapors

leave trails. Discovered: when matter and its antithesis come
together, a disappearing
flash of light: (our share of night to
ear) (I mean what I say): In contempt

of the Law of All
Excluded Thirds: laws are not
symmetrical in the forward and the back
(of time). On which side
are they stacked? and the sky also

(is what made Hart Crane
so crazy in the heart) continued to pile up
clouds without account, a mass of gasses with nothing

scribbled under them; a song in the middle

of the crystal
cavatina. We hardly had any bones then. Did
Hart Crane have bones? If so, which kind? AndD

run toward the sea)



"Don’t worry, Renée, I won’t commit suicide and I won’t burn a thing.
Because from now on, for you, I’ll be searching for those moments of always within a never.
Beauty, in this world."


Where You Are by Mark Doty

2. Everywhere

I thought I’d lost you. But you said I’m imbued

in the fabric of things, the way

that wax lost from batik shapes

the pattern where the dye won’t take.

I make the space around you,

and so allow you shape. And always

you’ll feel the traces of that wax

soaked far into the weave:
the air around your gestures,

the silence after you speak.

That’s me, the slight wind between

your hand and what you’re reaching for;

chair and paper, book or cup:

that close, where I am: between

where breath ends, air starts.

thanks andy for this.
poetrys´ been floating heavily lately, landmarking september.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

sad songs for dirty lovers

the weekend translated into resonance.
JM killed it.
via PFAS.


so if you´re in love or in pain, this might just be your medicine.

download all.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I´m so glad you´re my boy


Down along the cove
I spied my true love comin' my way
Down along the cove
I spied my true love comin' my way
I say, "Lord, have mercy, mama
It sure is good to see you comin' today".

Down along the cove
I spied my little bundle of joy
Down along the cove
I spied my little bundle of joy
She said, "Lord, have mercy, honey
I'm so glad you're my boy".

Down along the cove
We walked together hand in hand
Down along the cove
We walked together hand in hand
Ev'rybody watchin' us go by
Knows we're in love, yes, and they understand.


Monday, August 15, 2011

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


are the origin of dreams.

Monday, July 25, 2011

refreshing. it still sounds like him, but with neat sparse of evolution.

Friday, July 22, 2011

no surprise here

the song hadn´t even gone 5 seconds through and i knew the hype was true.
though i predict this is just a crumb of what the album´ll be. i´ve been waiting for this one for a while.

they´re cominggg and the line-up´s INSANE.

playing with my best friend/a couple of talented young musicans.

yes, this time, i´m bragging.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011


in each a combination of reality, surreality, hyperreality...
which one´s which?


reflexion & message shared by Bishop Bennett Smith

"you have one judge- your word."

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Monday, July 11, 2011

Sunday, July 10, 2011

The collection

"There is for each man, perfect self-expression. There is a place which he is to fill and no one else can fill, something which he is to do, which no one else can do.."
Florence Scovel Shinn

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

don´t you?

my presence was required at two weddings on saturday.
one heavily smudged make-up, the other poked my eyes out.
both manifested fixation on ocular region.

who can tell where this one was?
me neither.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Definition: God is the shortest distance between zero and infinity

"right up your existential alley".

Title: Alfred Jarry, Exploits & Opinions of Dr. Faustroll, Pataphysician via but does it float

photos taken from favorite site but does it float, ffffound, iceland photogallery, national geographic, and internet lostage.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Friday, May 27, 2011

say you do

last of this i promise.

What is love can you tell me baby be,
Is it the hole you put inside me.
Young cavernous crater young windswept cave,
If love is my salvation I don't want to be saved.

But I never met a girl like you.
Someone who made that dumb shit true
So oo oo.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

when you do,
wont you say you do.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

say you do.

Full capacity mind wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

But I never met a girl like you,
Someone to keep my black heart blue.
And I'll always stay a little bit me,
The portrait of complicity.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.
(Lovely picture of me)
Say you do

(Love me love me love me, say you do)
(Love me love me love me, say you do)

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Monday, May 23, 2011

tangible memory, tactile sound

has fantasy or illusion ever come true exactly how you imagined it? even if you tried and tried not to expect anything at all or even expected the worst?.. i´d never had a taste of that magic until saturday. the stars alignment to fulfill for a couple of minutes the ethereal. wow, god manifest might sound like an overstatement, i´d agree but i think back on it all, and it still feels like a dream. maybe that has to do with the fact that i had more than a couple of beers. nonetheless, the sweet taste remains.

if anyone has been reading what i´ve been writing since this blog began, you´d understand a small fragment of the impact tv on the radio has had on different aspects of my life. it´s weird to write that but it´s true. music to me, is an art form that makes you go beyond your own limits and layers. art in genereal aspires to that, but music, at least for my ears becomes solidified when chemistry makes a cameo, chemistry you can play over and over. it´s like you can eat it, and cut it, hold it and taste it, and travel through space with it. there are no actual words that explaln the exact feeling. what makes one have this chemistry with certain bands still remains a mystery. like why am i into terry riley, mt. kimbie, george michael, earth, wind, and fire, or how nat king cole´s unforgettable, infalibly makes me cry...
i could speculate that music speaks to the soul at some unknown, subconscious and invisible realm. earth, wind and fire must channel my texan nostalgia towards the radio station my dad heard. terry riley, my pretentious contemporary adult.

i know exactly why unforgettable makes me cry, but that´s a whole different story i´ll tell when i´m feeling a bit more sentimental.

memory´s webs are infinite.

back to tv on the radio, the affection dates to wolf like me, rarely it was heard on the dancefloor (back when i was a wolf myself) but when it did come on, a full moon appeared. i got really into them, then came a best friend, guillermo whom i met on the internet, yes, the internet, all we did was talk about music, he recommended mogwai and sonic youth, and claimed to be a tvotr lover. the spark was mutual. to this day he always comes to heart with the band. i remember perfectly, the first time i saw tvotr was in prospect park about two years ago, guillermo was in mind for most of it.

with a little bit of history, we arrive at the almost present when i found out my best friend singer/writer of disco ruido! was opening a small show for tvotr in guadalajara. a part from it being a huge thing for d.r!, they happened to be playing with my favorite band.

no brainer.

i took one of my postcards of a red sky i´d photographed and wrote on it something i wanted to say to the band, i was sorta anxious that if the time came the words i wanted weren´t going to come out...
i saw tunde standing outside his tent and walked up to him, introduced myself, gave him the postcard and asked for a picture. he was super nice. something you could vibe from seeing him on stage or on rachel getting married or through something about his smile or whatever, but you never know if that´s really true or if it´s just you exalting. we chatted for a while. he told me about the movie he co-directed for their new album (posted below), we talked about illustration, a project i was working on, how he liked disco ruido´s! graphics, what i did for a living, why i was there, what was the downside of touring, how he liked making things, how my friend (elena) had confused him with another person and asked for a picture, how i was nervous, etc.
after a minute i was at ease, and i said, "this was better than what i´d pictured, you never know when you meet someone you admire if they´re gonna turn out to be assholes. i didn´t really wanna stop listening to your music if you did turn out to be one"... he laughed and agreed that it´s not cool to have that type of illusion shattered, "i´m glad you´re not an asshole either".


after disco ruido! came down from playing an excellent show; kyp, dave, jaleel, and the drummer headed over to our tent to congratulate the band. something i´d never seen. which amazed and made all our jaws drop. god how refreshing it is to find real people in the world. i mean of course that´s ideally what you´d think would happen, what else should one expect right?, but that´s not always the case. more so with a band that´s covered as much ground as they have.
anyways, after observing all this, even if i already felt most of it, i confirm they deserve absolutely everything good that´s coming to them, that they´ve created, and´ll continue to create. i have nothing but admiration towards whatever they´ve put their heart into. and here is a great example of how the universe again conspires to compose and soundtrack something beautiful.

of course, they went on stage and put on an awesome show. i am no longer objective in this aspect, as you obviously deduced. if you gotten through most of this post, maybe you feel nauseous for the excessive sunshine (here too, i am no longer able to help myself), i don´t doubt there´re one or two of 364 bad days, one thing is fact, they do transmit clarity in how far they wanna take themselves and everything around that happens to be true to it. that alone supports my theory. all the rest is just an extended version of my own perception.

they later appeared at the after party where julian was djing. we danced and drank some more. so the world didn´t end but it brought mexico and a faithful part of brooklyn to guadalajara. (here´s where i actually get that brooklyn´s a whole different planet than manhattan.)

in conclusion to this post of praise, it still amazes me how bands have all these effects on thousands and thousands of people without knowing it, or better said, with just seeing faces and bodies move in elevated ways to what they do, connecting in the unseen and apparently unconnected... it´s like if you split yourself into a million melodic little pieces and you are able to share it with anyone who happens to stumble upon what you do.

dear science,
please explain.

favorites include caffeinated consciousness, second song, killer crane. you and backwards dragon probably top it.

Monday, May 16, 2011

body, rocks, & architecture

"Every human action gains in honour, in grace, in all true magnificence, by its regard to things that are to come. It is the far sight, the quiet and confident patience, that, above all other attributes, separate man from man, and near him to his Maker; and there is no action nor art, whose majesty we may not measure by this test. Therefore, when we build, let us think that we build for ever. Let it not be for present delight, nor for present use alone; let it be such work as our descendants will thank us for, and let us think, as we lay stone on stone, that a time is to come when those stones will be held sacred because our hands have touched them, and that men will say as they look upon the labour and wrought substance of them, 'See! this our fathers did for us.' For, indeed, the greatest glory of a building is not in its stones, nor in its gold. Its glory is in its Age, and in that deep sense of voicefulness, of stern watching, of mysterious sympathy, nay, even of approval or condemnation, which we feel in walls that have long been washed by the passing waves of humanity. It is in their lasting witness against men, in their quiet contrast with the transitional character of all things, in the strength which, through the lapse of seasons and times, and the decline and birth of dynasties, and the changing of the face of the earth, and of the limits of the sea, maintains its sculptured shapeliness for a time insuperable, connects forgotten and following ages with each other, and half constitutes the identity, as it concentrates the sympathy, of nations: it is in that golden stain of time, that we are to look for the real light, and colour, and preciousness of architecture; and it is not until a building has assumed this character, till it has been entrusted with the fame, and hallowed by the deeds of men, till its walls have been witnesses of suffering, and its pillars rise out of the shadows of death, that its existence, more lasting as it is than that of the natural objects of the world around it, can be gifted with even so much as these possess of language and of life."—John Ruskin, The Seven Lamps of Architecture


one paradox, however, must be accepted and this is that it is necessary to continually attempt the seemingly impossible. i agree with Siddharta, our wise friend form the East, who once said:
"words do not express thoughts very well; everything immediately becomes a little different, a little distorted, a little foolish. and yet it also pleases me and seems right that what is of value and wisdom to one man seems nonsense to another".

"he who travels far will often see things
far removed from what he believed was Truth.
when he talks about it in the fields at home,
he is often accused of lying,
for the obdurate people will not believe
what they do not see and distincly feel,
inexperience, i believe,
will give little credence to my song."

the journey to the east.
hermann hesse.

Monday, April 25, 2011


nicolas jaar is my favorite thing to happen to music in seconds.

gracias jose.

his new album does a great job at swaying me to sleep, though i´m not sure if the previous sustains my statement too well.

i´m obviously attracted to his space is only noise title, also part of my "metabiography".


HEALTH on PFAS Interview from Jose Manuel Espínola on Vimeo.

via PFAS

as i mentioned a couple of posts back, i was scheduled to interview HEALTH when they visited d.f some time back...
for reasons that go beyond my own physical capabilities/internal GPS, i didn´t make the interview, long story short, i got lost in a horrible part of downtown, horrible to the point of thinking i would never see daylight...
a good samaritan actually got into his car and escorted me to where i was going. even though in mexico city, this could also be a trap (yes, you read correctly, trap), his intentions were pure; it was the desperation on my face.

HEALTH one of the best live shows i´ve seen in 011.
the lost and thinking i was going to die part was worth it.

ps. HEALTH mentions PICTUREPLANE in this interview, some friends claim he´s the best thing to happen to music in seconds, now it´s all clearer...
HEALTH being one of those bands that´re underrated, yet the quality of their sound is rare, they´re way way better live than on tape, it´s not something you can say about a lot of bands nowadays... Pictureplane played DF on friday, didn´t go bc i was out of town, but if he´s backed by HEALTH, he must be carrying a worthwhile gig, I see where those conclusions are coming from... even if in the end, it´s all about the post-punk nostalgia.

Friday, April 15, 2011


..."Love must not entreat," she added, "or demand. Love must have the strength to become certain within itself. Then it ceases merely to be attracted and begins to attract....
Another time she told me a very different story, concerning a lover who's love was unrequited. He withdrew completely within himself, believing his love would consume him. The world became lost to him, he no longer noticed the blue sky and green woods, he no longer heard the brook murmur; his ears had turned deaf to the notes of the harp: nothing mattered anymore; he had become poor and wretched. Yet his love increased and he would rather have died or been ruined than renounce possessing this beautiful woman. Then he felt that his passion had consumed everything else within him and become so strong, so magnetic that the beautiful woman must follow. She came to him and he stood with outstretched arms ready to draw her to him. As she stood before him she was completely transformed and with awe he felt and saw that he had won back all he had previously lost. She stood before him and surrendered herself to him and sky, forest, brook all came toward him in new and resplendent colors, belonged to him, and spoke to him in his own language. And instead of merely winning a woman he embraced the entire world and every star in heaven glowed within him and sparkled with joy in his soul. He had loved and had found himself. But most people love to lose themselves.

Hermann Hesse

Wednesday, April 13, 2011


ok, so almost two hours of a youtube video seem insane, but let me say it´s well worth them. you´ll invest in something interesting instead of sitting around picking your nose. if you dig lynch, science, meditation, consciousness, how the brain works, a cameo on dreams, etc. then take a look.
right around min. 50, when dr. hagelin (a dude that´s being compared to einstein/who incidently looks like major garland briggs) explains the scientific perspective on meditation, i was blown away, i had no clue science had a way to explain such ethereal things. people call the micro micro micro worlds quantum physics, mechanics and such, i would call it something else.
laugh away people, now it´s science..

known unknowns

where and what would we be without language?
some would say language expands certain restraints and obstructions, others would argue that words remove the blockage. certain writers write about the author dying everytime he expresses himself on paper (barthes) giving his identity to his reader, the readers vision is added onto the writing, exchanging ones world for the writers world and vice versa.
our verb is our architecture and invisible legacy.
letters, words, sentences, phrases, and languages are necessary to a certain extent, but what happens beyond them when communication doesn´t seem to be enough... ?

what´s clearer, more words or less of them?
when are there less casualties?

this wasn´t the exact dj spooky song i wanted, but it´s close to the one i was listening to when i began thinking about music with few to no words.

Wednesday, March 30, 2011

Tuesday, March 29, 2011

what does the universe smell like?

Among Thieves

"I can see that your thoughts are deeper than you yourself are able to express. But since this is so, you know, don't you, that you've never liked what you are thinking and that isn't good. Only the ideas that we actually live are of any value. You knew all along that your sanctioned world was only half the world and you tried to suppress the second half the same way priests and teachers do. You won't succeed. No one succeeds in this once he has begun to think."

Demian, Hermann Hesse

Wednesday, March 23, 2011


it´s difficult to resume what happened at sxsw because by now it´s all a blur. what i do know is that i never wanted it to end.
the downside of attending such a mind-bottling event is that you are forever inclined to frown upon bands playing huge venues. this had been the case beforehand, i´d always preferred to see bands at small joints (who doesn´t), but living austin i´m officially boycotting the whole thing.
the strokes, M.J huge? really? don´t get me wrong, i´m a huggeee strokes fan, but austin made the biggest fuss to see their show. i ended up seeing it on a bridge, way better than a three hour line. at least there i could sway from side to side.

james blake at fader with half the people talking/looking the other way? bummer. upside is i made friends with some rappers from L.A.

but charles bradley, mount kimbie, OMD, psychic tv, grimes, trentemøller, GAYNGS, !!!, glasser, and a couple of others i´ve blacked out on, killed, murdered, annhiliated it.

so if i could make one suggestion to people reading, is never ever ever go to sxsw. less lines for me.
it took forever to go, the festival is my age, and i´ve heard it´s changed so much, it´s mainstream now and blablabla, but isn´t everything mainstream nowadays?... i don´t know what it was before, or what that actually means, but i do believe you can still find those little spots still keeping it how it was intended to be kept. and if my analysis is off, it all basically felt amazing.

ps. i made two notes to myself on my phone stating:
1. "michael cera is eye-fucking me."
2. "stupid people with initiative rock my world, but they don´t".
i´m thinking really hard to who i was referring to but i honestly cannot remember. i really wish i could, then i´d know where all my anger comes from...

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

two realms

i cannot tell my story without reaching a long way back. if it were possible i would reach farther still- into the very first years of my childhood, and beyond them into distant ancestral past.

novelists when they write novels tend to take an almost godlike attitude toward their subject, pretending to a total comprehension of the story, a man´s life, which they can therefore recount as God Himself might, nothing standing between them and the naked truth, the entire story meaningful in every detail. i am as little able to do this as the novelist is, even though my story is more important to me than any novelist´s is to him- for this is my story; it is the story of man, not of an invented, or possible, or idealized, or otherwise absent figure, but of a unique being of flesh and blood. yet, what a real human being is made of seems to be less understood today than at any time before, and men- each one of whom represents a unique and valuable experiment on the part of nature- are therefore shot wholesale nowadays. if we were not something more than unique human beings, if each one of us could really be done away with once and for all by a single bullet, storyteling would lose all purpose. but every man is more than just himself; he also represents the unique, the very special and always significant and remarkable point at which the world´s phenomena intersect, only once in this way and never again. that is why every man´s story is important, eternal, sacred; that is why every man, as long as he lives and fulfills the will of nature, is wondrous, and worthy of every consideration. in each individual the spirit has become flesh, in each man the creation suffers, within each one a redeemeer is nailed to the cross.

few people nowadays know what man is. many sense this ignorance and die the more easily because of it, the same way that i will die more easily once i have completed this story.

i do not consider myself less ignorant than most people. i have been and still am a seeker, but i have ceased to question stars and books; i have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me. my story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are; it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams- like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.

each man´s life represents a road toward himself, an attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. no man has ever been entirely and completely himself. yet each one strives to become that- one in an awkward, the other in a more intelligent way, each as best as he can. each man carries the vestiges of his birth- the slime and eggshells of his primeval past- with him to the end of his days. some never become human, remaining frog, lizard, ant. some are human above the waist, fish below. each represents a gamble on the part of nature in creation of the human. we all share the same origin, our mothers; all of us come in at the same door. but each of us -experiments of the depths- strives toward his own destiny. we can understand one another; but each of us is able to interpret himself to himself alone.

demian, hermann hesse.

"lose some, lose some"

if your subconscious could articulate physical sound, it would most likely sound like the narrator in the following:

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

white on white

...white, although often considered a no colour, is the symbol of a world in which colour has disappeared as a quality or material substance. that world is too far above us, that none of its sounds reach us. from it, a great silence takes its place, like a cold, indestructible, impenetrable, and infinite wall. white acts like an absolute silence over the soul. internally it sounds like a non-sound comparable to musical pauses that temporarily break a melody. it is not a dead silence, on the contrary, it is full of possibility. white sounds like silence, that all of a sudden can be comprehended.
wassily kandinsky,
concerning the spiritual in art.

i begin my thesis with this excerpt, which to me seems to sum up many of the things i lived through, let´s say for the past lifetime. anyone who´d disagree must really hate the abstract. or is simply a control freak.

ps. as i relistened to the song i just posted, and assimilated it to whatever i just wrote... i´m such a nouveau new age junkie. on my defense, even though i´m authentically repelled by myself, i grew up in the nineties/Y2k.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

we all care more than we´d like to admit...

i always knew we were friends...

knowing without knowing

that background guitar that hits around 1.45 up til the end kiiiiiiiiiiiiillss me.

Thursday, February 10, 2011

the three lives

... that people more readily accept affliction and outward penances than the task of changing themselves, or even examining themselves; that they believe more in formulas than experience. these are matters which in the several thousand years since his era have probably not changed so much as a good many history books claim. but he had also learned that a seeking, thoughtful man dare not forfeit love; that he must meet the wishes and follies of men halfway, not showing arrogance but also not truckling to them; that it is always only a single step from sage to charlatan, from priest to mountebank, from helpful brother to parasitic drone, and that the people would by far prefer to pay a swindler and be exploited by a quack than accept help given freely and unselfishly. they would much rather pay in money and goods than in trust and love. they cheat one another and expect to be cheated themselves. you had to learn to see man as a weak, selfish, and cowardly creature; you also had to realize how many of these evil traits and impulses you shared yourself; and nevertheless you allowed yourself to believe, and nourished your soul on faith, that man is also spirit and love, that something dwells in him which is at variance with his instincts and longs to refine them.

the rainmaker.
hermann hesse.