El Patio de mi Casa es Particular

black earth, crisp air

2012-02-19T19:01:00.000-08:00

Walking the Iztaccihautl

Extracts from - The Walking Man - by J.M.G Le Clezio

2012-02-16T09:51:00.000-08:00

One can waste the better part of a lifetime in walking without actually being a walking man. That's obvious. And on the other hand one may have walked very little, really one may never have cared for walking, never been good at walkig, and yet be unquestionably a walking man. Such is the law of all deep-seated life, according to which beings and objects exist only in terms of a pattern peculiar to themselves, an achievement for which they are granted no handicap, no limit and no appeal.
* * *
Paoli strolled like this along a succession of streets, some of them shady, others sunny. A mysterious force had entered into him, had distended his muscles and sinews, and was propelling him forward, over the resonant concrete. It was rather as though his body were inhabited by a perfect mechanism, where nothing was left to chance, where each movement followed naturally upon the one before, simply owing to the play of the driving-rods pivoting on their axes, of valves commanded by complex, decisive systems of gears, wth smooth wheels and cogwheels, ball-bearings steel pins and an infinity of screws. In his brain, nothing was clear. No idea could manage to take shape, not the tiniest thought. It was an expanse of fog, prevailing from end to end of his skull, from which nothing emerged except the rock, the tense cry of determination. A sort of tightrope, stretched to breaking-point, extending straight ahead of him, as far as the horizon and even beyond, along which he was walking without understanding.

yesterday's sunset

2012-02-04T18:23:00.000-08:00

Monte Alban, Oaxaca

2012-01-29T21:29:00.000-08:00

after the rain

2012-01-25T06:08:00.000-08:00

Mexico City - Cerro de la Estrella, Iztapalapa.

2012-01-09T15:15:00.000-08:00

On Saturday Lore, Luis, Caco and I climbed to Cerro de la Estrella, a little hill with an archaeological site at the southern edge of the city in Iztapalapa.
Desolate parks, horse training, old cars, a dead iguana which we could not figure out if it had been a pet or part of some witchcraft, or whatever else...what is certain is that it was out of place.
At the top of the hill you get probably one of the best views of the city than anywhere else. This spot used to be the site for the New Fire Ceremony practiced in prehispanic times every 52 years. Now they do a representation of Christ carrying his cross, and there are some remains of some contemporary hippitecas (Aztec hippies) doing probably some sort of rituals. The crowd varies from local families, athletes, lovers, redeemed criminals, us, etc. Towards the hill there is a sign encrypted in the concrete steps "I met you in the 03947 police patrol and I fell in love with you"

It is an interesting place.

grasping time

2012-01-04T11:12:00.000-08:00

Nothing is more of a unique mark of an specific moment as the sky.
It does not matter how contrasted or subtle...light is the greatest reminder of the present.
Photographing the sky often is like marking time in relation to absolute concepts of existence, and time regardless of all the social, visual...etc.
.. no moment in the sky (or anywhere) repeats itself.
+ + +
Right after writing about the sky I turn to it and it is very rare and magnificent as if vowing to its acknowledgment... being in the car it is impossible to get a good picture...
The moment is gone.

Pictures taken in between October-November 2011 through Lebanon, Russia, France and Switzerland.

western europe

2012-01-04T10:58:00.001-08:00

Spending some time in Europe it seems almost impossible to slip away from the established functional and social structures that are more ingrained and institutionalized than in other countries.

The change of consciousness and the possibilities that seem an open field in other parts of the earth, but are imminently heading on the same direction of institution.

(again re-reading my own notes!)

reading from my diary

2012-01-04T10:57:00.000-08:00

After the last post I was looking into my notes, I found something I wrote while pondering about what I perceived intuitively of social and development values from Lebanese society.
Arabic culture coming from the desert and its inherent austerity, it would inspire a natural tendency towards abundance. How the landscapes and environments generate social values, how vegetation shapes societies. Universal human nature reacting to climate and vegetation.

A sense of place

2012-01-03T11:33:00.001-08:00

To know a people, British writer Lawrence Durrell once said, you need only a little patience, a quiet moment, and a place where you might listen to the whispered messages of their land. Landscape, he thought held the key to character. He wrote that you could depopulate France, resettle it with Tartars, and within a few generations find, to your astonishment, that the national characteristics had reemerged: the restless, metaphysical curiosity, the passionate individualism, the affection for good living. Is is what he called the invisible constant of a place...Just as landscape defines a people, culture springs from a spirit of place.

Wade Davis, extract from Breaking Trail essay.

- - - - - - - - -

But the essential act of faith is physical movement through space, a walk across landscape, pilgrimage that brings the supplicant from the realm of human society to the bleak reaches of the puna, and the endless possibilities for redemption or madness inherent in every encounter with the wild.
...
The effort is the sacrifice, a term that does not mean to give, but rather to make sacred. This is the key to the maestros' art of healing. It is not enough just to identify a symptom and eliminate it, with either medicinal plants or the intervention of positive magic. To heal the body one has to seek realignment, not only with the supernatural realm, but with the earth itself, the source of all life. It is the movement through sacred geography that makes atonement possible. This is the true meaning of healing. To make whole. To be holy. To give of oneself to the earth, and thus rediscover balance, the foundation and essence of well-being. As much as any aspect of the contemporary cult, it was this pursuit of equilibrium that linked the maestro to the ancient traditions of the Andes.
Pg. 189-190, Shadows in the Sun, Wade Davis

winter nest

2012-01-03T08:21:00.000-08:00

One of the last drawings of 2011

2012-01-01T22:26:00.000-08:00

ferns and a succulent

2011-12-28T17:23:00.000-08:00

today

2011-12-28T16:49:00.000-08:00

SERIES

2011-12-18T00:23:00.000-08:00

final piece

Themes (from top to bottom, horizontally)
1- internet
2- an important dream
3- sea waves
4- mexico
5- geologic cartography
6- untitled

Process
17.12.11, from 10am

4:30pm, finishing the paintings

a little nap

The Opening, 7pm

Rita is missing!!!

The morning after!

Cheerful Times

2011-12-16T18:14:00.000-08:00

Walking back home from a night stroll, I had a very pleasant surprise. It turned out the bar from the corner has now installed a Karaoke, there was a laaaarge table of office people, singing aaaall together at the top of their lungs ".......uuuaaaaaaa ... se enciende, coquetea... se evapora...!!" La Chica de Humo by Emmanuel, an old time classic. I could not stop smiling!!!!!!

Rivers and Tides: Andy Goldsworthy Working With Time by Thomas Riedelsheimer

2011-12-16T16:01:00.000-08:00

beautiful movie

scolded

2011-12-15T22:18:00.000-08:00

17.12.2011

2011-12-13T09:54:00.000-08:00

Saturday 17th of December, 7-11pm

Yautepec 103, col. Condesa.

Mexico City

SERIES

This show arises from collaboration, immediacy and flexibility.

All the work is from everyone,

all the work is the same color,

all the work is the same value,

all the work is the same size,
all the work is done in one day,

In Tatiana's garage, with little time and little resources, using simple ideas and dynamics, accessible prices and little importance to authorship, we look to generate a national and generational artistic scene which has more fluidity, capable of stimulating a dynamic and diverse production.

Parameters to follow: Rita, Tatiana, Marco, Christian, Mauricio, and Marcos, get together; each artist proposes a theme, each artist makes a drawing of each others theme; to end up with 6 series, by 6 artists, of 6 different thematics.

As a result a dialogue is created between artists which have very different creative processes and that normally would not collaborate. The fact that this event is possible shows great disposition and aperture, something new is materializing.

Christian Camacho

México,1985

www.battle-plans.com
Actualmente cursa un MA en el Royal College of Art en Londres, bajo apoyo del programa de Becas para estudios en el extranjero del FONCA y de La Colección/Fundación Jumex.

Entre sus exposiciones colectivas están:

Five drawings about fire, Lower Gulbenkian Gallery, Royal College of Art, Londres, Reino Unido, 2011; Interim Show, Royal College of Art, Londres, Reino Unido; The Man Group Drawing Prize, RCA, Londres, Reino Unido, 2011; Lo transparente en actividad, Casino Metropolitano, México D.F. 2010

Marcos Castro

México, DF, 1981

Estudió Artes Plásticas en la ENPEG La Esmeralda.

De sus exposiciones individuales destacan: Pater/Padre, en colaboración con Alberto Castro Leñero, Galeria Luis Adelantado, México; SOLVE ET COAGULA en el Museo Experimental El Eco; Fabulario, Casa del Lago, México y Muchos Lobos en Galeria Luis Adelantado, Valencia. Ha participado en la Bienal de Pintura Rufino Tamayo y en exposiciones colectivas como, DRAW, en el Museo de la Ciudad de México, curada por Miguel Calderón; Mother of Hedone, Jaus Art Space, Los Angeles, EUA; Scope Art Fair, Arróniz Arte Contemporáneo, NY, EUA; Arco, Madrid, España; Das Phantastische Geheimnis des Exotischen Universums, Birgit Ostermeier, Berlin, Alemania. Fue seleccionado para la residencia, Artist in residence at 18th street art center, Los Angeles, EUA y recibió la beca Jóvenes Creadores del FONCA. Su trabajo es parte de varias publicaciones como el libro The Younger Than Jesus Artist Directory de editorial Phaidon y 100 New Artists por Francesca Gavin.

Mauricio Marcin Álvarez

Curador del Clauselito (www.elclauselito.com). Tapachula, Chiapas, 1980.

Dedico tiempo a la lectura. Dibujo poco. A veces escribo y últimamente

investigo o me fijo en el movimiento aparente.

Editor del libro artecorreo y curador de la exposición del mismo nombre que se exhibió en 2009 en el Museo de la Ciudad de México

y en 2011 en el Museo de Filatelia de Oaxaca, dónde se presentó el libro de la errática investigación.

El pasado agosto participó en la residencia móvil de gestores dependientes de Capacete en Sao Paulo, Belo Horizonte y Rio de Janeiro, e hizo una residencia en la Bienal de Mercosul:

http://bienalmercosul.art.br/blog/curadores-residentes-casa-m-mauricio-marcin/

Tatiana Musi

México, DF, 1982

www.tatianamusi.com
Realizo un BFA en San Francisco Art Institute.

Exposiciones individuales: Mind Fills, en el Instituto Cervantes de Nueva Delhi, India; diciembre a febrero, proyecto para el Clauselito, Museo de la Ciudad de México; Death in the Open, en Galería Yautepec, México y Greeting from..., Diego Rivera Gallery, San Francisco, EUA. Ha participado en exposiciones colectivas como: Nostalgia, Pride and Fear, BMB Gallery, Bombay, India; DRAW, en el Museo de la Ciudad de México; HOW TO (skip a dead end street), Estambul, Turquía; On the Shoulders of Davids, JAUS, Los Angeles, EUA; Moleskine Detour, Museum der Dinge, Berlin, Alemania; LatinoLatino, Santa Maria dello Spasimo, Palermo, Italia e Inner Geographies/Crossing Paths,Tokyo Wonder Site, Tokio, Japón.
Realizó una residencia en Kriti Gallery, Varanasi, India. Fue fundadora de la galeria Yautepec en la Ciudad de México y trabajó como asistente para Mike Kelley. Actualmente trabaja en la publicación de su libro, A Subtle Understanding of Waking Perception, realizado en Kerala, India.

Rita Ponce de Leon

Lima, Perú, 1982

http://vigiliaycabeceo.blogspot.com/
Estudió Artes Plásticas en la Pontificia Universidad Católica de Perú (1999-2003). Concluyó su educación en la ENPEG La Esmeralda. Utiliza principalmente el dibujo en escalas y medios muy diversos para establecer un diálogo, entre ella misma y personas cercanas como su familia y amigos, acerca de su entorno social y cómo éste es comprendido e influye en sus vidas a nivel subjetivo.

Expuso individualmente He decidido Bifurcarme (Centro Cultural Border, México D.F. 2011), Necesito Dormir Cómics (Galería Vértigo, México D.F. 2011) Diente de Leche (Casino Metropolitano, México D.F. 2010) y Acepto que nada es mío (Galería 80 metros cuadrados, Lima, Perú, 2010). Colectivamente ha expuesto su trabajo en espacios independientes como el Centro Cultural Border, Vértigo y el Casino Metropolitano en México, así como en el Consulado de México en San Francisco y el Museo de Arte de Lima, en galerías como Co-Lab en Dinamarca, Ramis Barquet en Nueva York, Arróniz en México D.F. y 80 Metros Cuadrados en Lima, Perú. Ha publicado su trabajo de manera independiente (Necesito Dormir Cómics, 2006, 2011) y con editoriales como el Fondo de Cultura Económica (México), Alias (México), Red Cat (E.U.A.) y la Editorial Contracultura (Perú). Ha trabajado como asistente de Dr. Lakra, Adrián Villar Rojas y Gabriel Orozco así como colaborado con Abraham Cruzvillegas. Próximamente participará de la Trienal “The Ungovernables” en el New Museum de Nueva York.

Marco Rountree Cruz

México, 1982

Algunas de sus exposiciones individuales son: La Casa del Dr. Caligari, Travesía Cuatro, Madrid, España; Colección Otoño Invierno, Valenzuela Klenner, Bogotá, Colombia; CONCEPCION BEISTEGUI 831, Proyectos Monclova, México, DF; Extensión Considerada en una Sola de sus Tres Dimensiones. Galería Seattle, Zapopan, Jalisco, México; entre otras.

Algunas de sus exposiciones colectivas son: Todas las historias son historias de amor, Galería Desire Sain Phalle, México, DF; DRAW, Museo de la Ciudad de México; El arte del hogar, Galería Caja Blanca, en conjunto con Rodolfo Díaz Cervantes, México, DF; Nothingless and the Being, Colección Jumex, Comisariada por Shamim Momin, México, DF; Formas Literarias, Segunda Trienal Poligráfica de San Juan, Puerto Rico; Conversations II, comisariada por Jens Hoffman, Travesía Cuatro, Madrid; El Norte del Sur, comisariada por Michelle Blancsube, Sao Paulo, Brasil; An Unruly History of the Readymade, comisariada por Jessica Morgan, Colección Jumex, México, DF; Love Love Love, Martos Gallery, Nueva York, EUA; HangART Edition 7, Salzburgo, Austria.

Ganador del premio Tequila Centenario Feria MACO 2007.

Mexico City's trepidation, oscillation, last night and 85

2011-12-11T11:54:00.000-08:00

Yesterday Mexico City's open wound bled, as soon as the earth trembles, 19th September 1985 comes to everyone's mind, and then when it not just only trembles but roars, and a long roar...
Last night there was a 6.8 earthquake in Mexico City, one thing I realized is that my precaution measures where equal to none...I felt the earthquake right away, everyone ran out of the house and I was a bit in awe and overflowing with a sensorial experience as I calmly, after announcing the event to other people, and as if nothing was happening headed to the kitchen and continued making tea, then came out to comment... it is still trembling it has been long no...?
Everyone started talking about how they lived 85, as for me I was 3 years old, and I think I did not have the conscience to live it as a traumatic event, however it is one of my earliest childhood memories, the replica...I was watching TV with my father in my pyjama and with the sausage dog, he carried us both and we ran out of the building.
I went to a party last night, many friends of the same generation, 1982, all of us have some sort of memory around the event...
Anyhow last night I felt something deep... and there was a deep movement in the earth, so no wonder.

-the in between-

2011-12-10T14:36:00.000-08:00

Organic Eggs

2011-12-08T12:44:00.000-08:00

Walking on the street from the store to my house I had an almost uncontrollable desire to smash them on the sidewalk!...they made it home.

07.12.2011

2011-12-07T19:26:00.000-08:00

I feel I have been pushing myself on a search since I can remember, not just the profound kind of search, all sorts, mundane. What will happen if? how does it work? when? what? why blue? Always windows. Always sunny. Warm when possible. Nothing I can control.

This last months I have been very conscious of nail cutting. It has been the main time keeper. Time elapses and suddenly nails are too long again, and there cannot be much time between one nail cutting and the next but I can never remember the previous one exactly.

I feel a little overwhelmed, I try to make a pause, organize and simplify. Easy instructions.

How did it become a chaos...so many illusions and ideas materialized/objectified...I should just throw it all away but... and then yes... but... so a lot of things gone, a lot of things kept, a lot of thing uncategorized, outside and inside. Physical and abstract.

And I get a sense that I understand many things, I play the role of the observer, but then what I do not manage to grasp is what it is that I actually understand and what I don't. It is blurry, yet there is clarity.

My house which has been office and kitchens, abandoned, a gallery, inhabited, and abandoned, a pet center and hostel, inhabited and abandoned...

One more time I attempt to inhabit my house for a couple of months in the simplest of forms.

1 bed

5 clothes changes

1 plant

2 plates

1 spoon, fork, knife

sort of...

also a sort of little chaos...enjoyable processes...time...everything finds its own place.

Victoria Amazonica

2011-12-05T21:56:00.000-08:00

A flower with giant leaves. It only blooms for two nights after releasing a sweet fragance, one night it blooms as a white female, then it turns reddish and it blooms as a male to be pollinated by beetles, then it dies.

It was in bloom on October 8th, my birthday present, at Zagreb's botanical garden.

Impermanence

2011-12-01T12:20:00.000-08:00

Lenin at Moscow train station

2011-12-01T12:18:00.000-08:00

A little too long... all a little too fast

2011-11-14T10:08:00.000-08:00

of when I packed my house

of other croatian friends

of Steve a very eccentric character described in detail by Sunci here:

A Coffee in the Balkans blog

of a transition from summer to winter within 2 hrs. a completely unexpected snowstorm

of Zagreb's Maksimir park and botanical garden under the rain, turning 29.

of the town of my ancestors in Lebanon and the only living relative, uncle George

of museography

of the largest stone in the world

of getting lost in France with my brother

and empty lots in France... and its gardens

of a hike in the alps... and its crows

of little art hotel in a swiss town, that serves soups on wednesdays

of Emma in the heights of Zurich..

And so many places, so many experiences so many friends, and I stopped taking pictures!!!

Russia

2011-10-24T11:38:00.000-07:00

Fountain's Winter Suits

Baltic Sea

Inside Hermitage

Afternoon Byblos

2011-10-13T10:25:00.000-07:00

Sunrise Beirut

2011-10-13T10:24:00.000-07:00

Sock Repair - Croatian Style -

2011-10-10T12:36:00.000-07:00

"....in Croatia you have to buy shoes a bit bigger than your size, just in case"

Sunci's Kitchen

2011-10-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

-I love being a sardine- and -The spirit of one eaten shrimp-

Adriatic Midnight

2011-10-05T02:24:00.000-07:00

Autumn is beginning in most of Europe, however the island of Hvar, Croatia caresses with a summer breeze. The sea turning slightly cold, and goosebumps from afternoon winds but still a summer feel.
Croatian temperament fits most impulses. Last night me and Sunci (my Croatian ambassador) went for dinner at a friends house, lonely bay. Octopus salad, vevanda, crepes, and madness went on...around 12am Stipe, a fisherman, mentioned that tonight he will not go fishing, his neighbor, who would always spy with binoculars for fresh fish (so she could eat it the next day), would see a fresh catch, he would just throw frozen fish in the nets. Immediately the idea of midnight fishing was planted in our heads, and I knew it would happen, with Croatians you do not seat still and wonder, it goes from one adventure to the next.

Suddenly we were all in the boat untangling nets, aggressively starry night, wind, caves and just 5 fish.

Officially Insane

2011-09-22T18:05:00.000-07:00

Here are a few tips on how to push your mental balance over the limits. A few tips on how to gradually loose your mind. It will be a progressive and painless process.
- Have a crack on your spectacles or sunglasses, whatever you use more.
- Make one shoe shorter than the other, the bigger the difference the better
- Modify all your keys to barely open
- Always keep at least a small bank debt = many phone calls assured
- Keep as many things as possible (hoarding)
- Crack all mirrors
- Keep a loud tick tack clock
- Have buzzing lights
- Leaks, always have leaks
- Always drive during rush hour
- Maybe a few pills here and there could speed the process.

I believe this will do, but any more suggestions are welcome in order to perfection the methodology for perfect insanity.
(This was posted in collaboration with Fede (www.federicoschott.com) whose presently undergoing this process, he has done a lot of progress!!)

Fede's sunglasses

Reclaiming Territory

2011-09-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

I agree!

2011-09-05T17:39:00.000-07:00

Mexico City sidewalk

home cooking, self-pampering!

2011-08-29T18:25:00.000-07:00

Adaptability

2011-08-23T09:53:00.000-07:00

Back in the city the obvious and simple fact of sunrise and sunset seem so obscure...by the sea it is so evident, opening and closing of the day, all the birds flying from one place to the next announcing the drastic change of light, passing of time, a storm, mute dialogue with an iguana, locking eyes with a giant sting ray... back in the city this simple pleasures, which should be part of everyday life seem like a luxury, and it takes just renouncing to certain unnecessary things, still the city has a more subtle way of letting its charms reach us, instants, small reminders, a delicate scent of jasmine while strolling like a passing caress, a sudden warmth, flapping wings, working ants, faint light, heavy drops, all somewhat overshadowed. Within all our structures of comfort, "flat" (mexico city is not distinguished by impeccable streets) surfaces, fumigated spaces, mechanical noises, we do not hear the world, we do not hear ourselves.
On the weekend I saw face painters for kids in the park, I remembered I hated it, even as a kid, the paint itches your face, it melts. But still some kids go around with tiger, panda, clown, robot, what not faces... I guess some humans are just more adaptable than others, and its visible since childhood.

napkin doodles

2011-08-22T20:46:00.000-07:00

I found this old napkin where I did a drawing and my father copied it...I like his better!

Ai Weiwei

2011-08-22T20:41:00.000-07:00

"Doubtless, the tides of history are pulling this archaic ship ever nearer to the banks of democracy, as communication, identification, understanding, and tolerance have begun to supplant methods of coercion and exclusion. We have realized that cultural and spiritual totalitarianism and exclusionism have deflated people's spirits, shrunk their wills, and made them myopic. Burying troublesome opinions and evading difficult questions are nothing short of skepticism and denial of the value of life; they are the blaspheming of gods, and acknowledgment of ignorance and backwardness, and a blatant expression of support for unchecked power and injustice. Today's culture and art are still lacking the most basic of concerns - the social function of artists, social enlightenment, and independent criticism.
No manner of linguistic exploration, no possible appropriation of strategy or medium, and not even plagiarizing techniques or content could possibly conceal independent creation, thus exposing pragmatic and opportunistic style-brokers and reflecting impoverished spiritual values and a general lowering of our tastes.
When the attention paid to "trends" is shifted toward personal methods and issues, when explorations into form are transformed into explorations into the plight of our existence and spiritual values, art will thus be enlightened. What a very long road."
(from essay The Longest Road)

Rabindranath Tagore

2011-08-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

In the mountain, stillness surges up

to explore its own height;

in the lake, movement stands still

to contemplate its own depth.

sunrise

2011-08-18T13:44:00.000-07:00

I love waking up at sunrise, fresh crisp light and newly awaken world...especially by the sea. In Holbox, on full moon, sun and moon overlap at sunrise and sunset. Every day my sunrise walk was accompanied by a flock of flamingos.

All the unfinished works, incarnation of unfulfilled desires...

2011-08-01T14:06:00.000-07:00

sometimes i just have to eat pretty things!

2011-08-01T11:18:00.000-07:00

DESERT

2011-07-31T13:02:00.000-07:00

In 2004, 5 of us went camping in the middle of the desert in San Luis Potosi, far away from any town or road. We arranged to be dropped somewhere...no one really knew where we were going...through dirt road and putting down fences, which seemed to be the boundaries between no man's land, then we walked a few kilometers into the direction where we were told we would find an oasis. We would be picked up, at a second fence we were to find, in 4 days. Needless to say, it was all unplanned, somehow we ended up camping near the small oasis, with 2 peyotes per head, very little water and food... in fact by the last day we had ran out of both. Silence and stillness were of such intensity that we could hear each other talk from miles apart, while each one wondered through giant cactus and rattle snakes.

The only documentation of this experience, besides our memory and the effect it had within ourselves, are a couple of blurry thumbnails and a Paul Shepard quote I had found and kept next to them.

"The desert is the environment of revelation, genetically and physiologically alien, sensorily austere, esthetically abstract, historically inimical. ... Its forms are bold and suggestive. The mind is beset by light and space, the kinesthetic novelty of the aridity, high temperature, and wind. The desert sky is encircling, majestic, terrible. In other habitats, the rim of sky above the horizontal is broken or obscured; here, together with the overhead portion, it is infinitely vaster than that of rolling countryside and forest lands. ... In an unobstructed sky the clouds seem more massive, sometimes grandly reflecting the earth’s curvature on their concave undersides. The angularity of desert landforms imparts a monumental architecture to the clouds as well as to the land. ...

To the desert go prophets and hermits; through deserts go pilgrims and exiles. Here the leaders of the great religions have sought the therapeutic and spiritual values of retreat, not to escape but to find reality."

[Paul Shepard, ‘Man in the Landscape: A Historic View of the Esthetics of Nature’]

Time Capsule

2011-07-29T12:01:00.000-07:00

In the last couple of years I have been working on memory, as a sort of sideline, an undertone to my constant questioning of the negotiation between humans and nature.

I believe the questioning of memory crawled up from inside me, as a way of trying to assimilate constant change; multiple landscapes, contexts, and experiences one after the other.

Memory often comes with nostalgia, even though until now I had treated it very coldly, very logical, as if decoding a structure. But memory has its own ways of working through us, and slowly as it has happened in multiple occasions, for example, I found myself with the sentiments of warmth and complicity I shared with my grandfather.

My grandfather, Luis Torregrosa, died 6 years ago, he was a very prominent doctor, his head could not be contained within his studio especially after he got senile dementia. His studio was his sanctuary, always organized to the last bit until everything started loosening up...until the final loosen up, the grasp of life. While he lived, his studio was out of boundaries, a rule that seems to have outlived him...He left a widow, 7 children and 16 grandchildren, to this day his things were still untouched, the studio door always closed.

In dealing with the vestiges of my own memory I wanted to go through the pictures of my grandfather, knowing that there were plenty, but completely unaware of what was to come. In the search for the pictures kept in the studio... I began to wonder what layed behind all the drawers, cabinets, boxes, what all the piles of paper, books, objetcs..etc. were about, and asked permission to dig into it; to organize the tangible remains of my grandfather as well as now being in charge of finding all the very important papers lost in that maze.

It is a weird thing, all the little things we keep... the collection of objects left behind, it is like being on a hunt for hidden treasures, as well as putting together a puzzle of information, as he was highly involved, in research, politics, economics, education and a weird sense of humour... he travelled all over the world, there are boxes and boxes full of slides, with labels such as "when we travelled to the Nordic countries" "the pyramids of Oaxaca" "Rio de Janeiro and Caracas" "Capri" "Japan"... and many unlabelled paths.

The search for me is about who my grandfather was, and understanding more of myself through that and the strong connection that we shared. Out of all the things I have found until now I decided to keep two things (of course with the permission of my grandmother).

- A photograph of my parents from 1980

- A collection of very poisonous scorpions, collected by my grandmother in 1944 while they lived in Irapuato.

HAPPINESS

2011-07-26T20:05:00.000-07:00

John Cage

2011-07-24T20:33:00.000-07:00

"There is poetry as soon as we realize that we possess nothing"

sane/insane

2011-07-22T10:24:00.000-07:00

This is the copy of a chart that I found on an Indian philosophy book, it made me laugh a lot, as a very impulsive person, to think of myself, at times, at the border of insanity.

There is an extract from "The Long Way" from Bernard Moitessier, where he is trying to establish a relationship with birds, I think it to be a good and simple example of the importance of sensing a situation before any action. It is true that impulse prevents you from the time needed to process and asses.

"...And I had the feeling, again almost physically, that my hand drew them more than the cheese. I wanted to caress them, at least to try. But I did not gesture I risked breaking something very fragile. Wait a while longer, don't rush things, don't force things. Wait until the waves of friendship, made of invisible vibrations, reach their full maturity. You can spoil everything, trying to go faster than nature."

Reserved Seats

2011-07-10T16:08:00.000-07:00

I was going through all the pictures I have taken over the last two years; trying to make a selection for myself to sum up (sigh)... experiences! I found that I constantly find four empty seats.

Objects I've collected over the last year

2011-07-04T19:08:00.000-07:00

All my cheesy confessions!

2011-06-30T08:12:00.000-07:00

I'll keep editing this post as ideas come...

I want to get a heart tattoo
I can't help to take pictures of birds flying

warm welcome back home

2011-06-29T13:05:00.000-07:00

WALKING...it's not a matter of scale, it's a matter of time.

2011-06-27T20:13:00.000-07:00

We are on the habit of asking the question: "Is it walking distance?"
In reality that does not mean anything the real questions are, what do you want the experience to be? how do you live your life? what is your personal rhythm? and most importantly...how much time do you have? how do you conceive time?
In fact every walkable surface of the earth is walking distance.
I have always gone on long walks, but after a short trek in the Himalayas I realized that walking had even a stronger meaning, the days were about walking, as well as every destination being only reachable by foot, since then I have made it a point to increase my walking, in distance and in relation to my functional life which in turn is creating a shift in my life's pace.
The pace of contemporary lifestyle is out of sync with our biological and emotional pace, even logical pace... I think it is driving us all a bit insane.

Here something beautiful on walking... and (sorry) a bit unclear, it is from Francis Alys, on what you are not doing while you walk!

NYC

2011-06-27T19:55:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was on the 31st floor at the Chrysler Building... how can it be that even that high you can still feel submerged by the city, still sunk, still surrounded by skyscrapers...

BAD REPUTATION

2011-06-27T19:49:00.000-07:00

While doing "serious" work in India...I took a break and did this drawing!

World politics, locked currencies, and their everyday use.

2011-05-22T08:53:00.000-07:00

I think I was getting too cocky, thinking I can get my way all the way.... the last couple of days have taught me a lesson!

Indian Rupees exchange is prohibited for foreigners when traveling to Nepal, and then Indian Rupees are officially not accepted from foreigners in Nepal so the "visa upon arrival" only works if you have the right kind of money (US $ or Euros... maybe Pounds as well...) which even if you try you cannot get unless you exchanged in your own country. I offered Mexican Pesos...but they were not too keen on them... Bordering on conflict a fellow Indian tourist offered to exchange my Rupees for my visa fee and I could go through! .. To be honest I had Euros in my wallet, but I said I did not, hoping they would take my Rupees as I found it unfair that I was expected to have any other currency, intending a small protest on this weird policies. However by the time I realized it would be such a mess it was too late to pull out the Euros in front of the immigration officer... I did confess all this to my fellow tourist once we entered the country.

I arrived on a connecting flight of which the first leg was delayed and then barely made it to the next flight running like a mad woman from domestic to international, clearing immigration and security all in like 20 min. But my luggage was not as fast.. and did not make it to Kathmandu with me, here there is not a digital tracking system, and the missing luggage "infrastructure" is equal to none... but only in appearance... I was quite relaxed and knew it would probably just work it... it sort of did but I still don't have my bag! It arrived today, but cannot be delivered as I have to clear customs myself... I could not pick it up as there is a complete strike for an unwritten constitution, and the people were leaving early as they had to walk home, now the strike will go on tomorrow... and again I might not be able to collect it...I was also on strike refusing to buy stuff, and neglecting my hygienic needs (like change of clothes and a shower) but at this rate.... I might have to break the strike first!

and days turned to nights, and so on...

2011-05-20T11:59:00.000-07:00

I no more ever know about days of the week, soon probably months, numbers hopefully years will start getting lost! I know they won't...but I wish...time passing was counted for the number of paintings completed for two months, and now, I don't have that to keep track....

tomorrow off to Nepal, indescribable excitement! ...

I miss this hut....

but I feel like this palm tree!

Charm Games and Blue Tape

2011-05-20T11:42:00.000-07:00

Yet once more I had an encounter with Indian police and customs officials... so they confiscated my painters tape, I did not really needed it anymore, and I can very well do with absolutely anything less in my bag... but I had time to lose, and I pretended to be very upset about my tape; demanded to talk to the person in charge for tape confiscation.

so I waited..and waited a little bit more... began to think "why am I doing this nonsense..... for tape..?" anyways I was already on it!... so the officer came, I received him with a question: so does the Indian constitution say "no tape allowed on planes"?, mmmm not specifically he said... but it represents a threat to the social order... or something or other.... bureaucratic language... so i continued.. grabbed my tape, ok, so this tape::::: and soooo oooon.... just picture me playing with the tape... then the officer: " Actually I think the tape is ok, but it is you who represents a threat to social order" we both laughed! I got my tape! and ... of course after a typically delayed flight.... I flew!

These Days: Temporary Gardens

2011-05-04T10:27:00.000-07:00

Sink Garden

Hotel Notice!

Of Course!!!!! Indians had to do something...!

2011-05-03T19:00:00.000-07:00

Night War

2011-04-17T00:42:00.000-07:00

In Thekkady we have started a very nice community, every night there is an assembly meeting of ants in my bathroom... unless they have to drag a dead beettle along; beettles come in every size and colour and are generally trapped behind the curtains, being noisy as hell until I drag them out... poor clumsy guys...and of course the ever buzzing mosquitoes, flying geckos, prehistoric size insects... etc..but last night it seems there was a war where I came out victorious without even noticing it.
I felt very itchy and moved around all night...also I broke my non-killing policy and before going to bed decided to kill two mosquitoes which were bound to give me yet another endlessly interrupted sleep. So with all the forest sounds and calmness I went to bed....itchy.... I woke up to find a whole battleground under my sheets, pieces of dismembered bugs here and there, some mosquitoes and some which I cannot even recognize, accompanied by bug and blood squashed marks... it seems I brutally killed a few of this little guys...but the blood was evidence of their attack on me, it was all in self-defence!
Overview of Battleground!

Of transit knowledge + transcending natal wisdom

2011-04-05T03:22:00.000-07:00

It's a strange skill to have the ability to deal with immigration officers especially when you are not doing anything illegal... or hardly illegal and they question you once and again as if you were the head of the mafia. Also it is such an art to know what they want to hear in each country and by the end of it to even make them laugh.
That is what I get for being a Mexican who currently lives in India got there through the US and Europe twice in a year with detours in a few other countries in the last couple of years with a passport issued in LA.

If not for a bit of charm this is definitely a trait I did not acquired at birth... of that I am certain.