Used to be one of the rotten ones and he liked you for that.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and he liked you for that.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back.
Can't you come back?
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back.
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under your breath.
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under your breath.
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under your breath.
Bleaching your teeth, smiling flash, talking trash, under my window.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone, sleep on the floor, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone.
Park that car, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone.
Park that car, dream about me.
Park that car, drop that phone.
Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that.
Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
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.
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
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.
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
l´hippocampe
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.
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
slacker
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.
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?
what?
life?
love?
company?
friendship?
routine?
contempt?
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.
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?
what?
life?
love?
company?
friendship?
routine?
contempt?
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.
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.)
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
doodling
tapping pencil
doing 8 things at once
getting drunk
avoiding the inevitable
not finishing something.....
not knowing how to finish something.
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
doodling
tapping pencil
doing 8 things at once
getting drunk
avoiding the inevitable
not finishing something.....
not knowing how to finish something.
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