DESERT

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

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

John Cage

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

sane/insane

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

 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

All my cheesy confessions!

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**

 

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

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

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

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

World politics, locked currencies, and their everyday use.

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...

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

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

Sink Garden

                                                                    Hotel Notice!

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

Night War

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

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.