Sigue volviendo

Y yo la sigo leyendo, cada que se va y regresa y vulve a decidir que no escribirá más pero un años después, lo hace de nuevo.

Y es que como me gusta leerla.

"A veces, cuando algo me importa too much,
pretendo justamente lo contrario para que,
si lo llego a perder, nadie intente consolarme.

Detesto sentirme como campesina indefensa."

X, la de los ojos negros.

Type

Typophile Film Festival 5 Opening Titles from Brent Barson on Vimeo.

Yo tampoco tenía Barbies.

Yo no tenía Barbies. Tenía una o dos. Un día mi hermana decidió que prefería el espacio de su closet para ropa que para cajas de muñecas. Y yo tuve muchas Barbies de pronto; Barbies, Skippers, Kens (sólo 1). Acompañados de el coche de Barbie, la casita de Barbie, la nevería de Barbie. La lista llega hasta el McDonnalds de Skipper y Barbie ( a teen job after all).
Y así fue que de todas maneras, llegué a la expocisión de Barbie y sus 50 años.
Las fotos van a otro lado, pero por favor tomen un momento y lean esto, ábranlo y léanlo con el zoom. Y después mueran, junto conmigo, de la risa.

I don´t know how to explain this, maybe because in order to explain something it is necessary to have a logical reasoning behind it. I, as usal, don´t have one for this.
How do you begin to explain beign filled with emotions that you can not separate?
In this momment I feel nostalgia, jelousy, uneasyness, happiness, peace and restlesness. My fingers try to type with speed but they only find motions complicated by the rush of bits going inside my skin.
I have before felt often like this, needless to say, and never have found the answer.
This is not a complain as much as it is a very hard question (or several). How do I catch up with life?
Im not at home, Im not in a familiar space (even though I feel very comfortable in this city) I go to a school I like, do things I like, eat what I like. I can not say Im missing anything. So why wont it stop?
I was walking back home today and I started thinking about how, it doesnt matter where you are, you are still the same you. People doesnt change. I ve been trying hard to explain this to Dear Roomate but maybe I wasnt listening myself. Sometimes I firmly believe that I dont need my own advice. She talks about wanting to go out and meeting people and when we are in a bar, with unknown people, she shys away and finds herself wanting to go home and sleep. I understand that, my answer was if there is something you have not liked doing for 23 years, it is most clear that you will not want to do it instantly just because you crossed country lines. She agreed.
Now, that was a matter of likes and dislikes, I will still enjoy figs anywhere in the world and think beer is an aquired taste I dont whish to acknowledge. That is simple.
The situation however, becomes obscure when we mention feelings; I try hard to make friends and even when it takes time and I do feel there is progress in it, they will see me as everyone else does; a mouse. The shy, quiet girl that goes everywhere when asked but is just, there.
Maybe it is not even so; my point to all this is that people doesnt change, and maybe I just want to do so.
I got what I wanted, I left everyone I know and feel safe with back home, I am free in the sense of not being restricted and still I feel imprisioned. The problem is me, then, of course. I know the answer then is, fix yourself, but I just wanna ask, how do I run from myself?
I was very determied of being here in a certain way, I was sure my mind was up for it, that my actions where up to it, that I could just be here, and do that, just be.
It has nothing to do with happines or feeling lonely, I am happy and I dont feel alone, most importat, Im not. Why do I keep looking for reasons , then? Why is it so hard to just be?
And then, it all turns to having too much to say and no way of figuring it out. Its like there is a wall inside my head and everything that is important and interesting is being held back behind it.
Was the cultural shock not grand enough? next time I'll be going to China and still feel confortable enough, still numb enough.
In other notice, I finished reading Niffenegger, it was a very surprising last 100 pages. Its amazing how when reading I can find myself in a characther, watching a movie too but when it comes to real life, I still have no idea. Which of course is obvious but still strange; if I can find myself that way then why not just be theatrical about it collect those personalities that I have already assumed as my own. That would be pretty fucked up.
I know by definition, Im longing, same as always. I cant turn it off. Dont know how to change it.
I must. or before I know it july will be here and I will still be me.

Will this vacation ever stop being re-use?

Collage for visualizing class, not so pretty but on the way.

Sólo un día soleado en otoño afuera del MACBA cominedo un gran merengue

Es Así

Irse es el más culposo placer.

Encontrar que en otro lugar te sientes en casa aún estando entre paredes desconocidas, caminando en calles sin saber a donde llevan y escuchando un acento que no puedes evitar pensar, un día tendrás.

De pronto, no hay quien te salve y la mezcla del miedo y la seguridad que esto causa te llena de la más pura melancolía. Esta es la definición del sentimiento, esto que se siente que es una mezcla entre nostalgia y emoción, alegría y felicidad. Una comedia dentro de un drama. ¿o es al revés?

Acabo de ajustar el reloj de mi computadora a la hora de un país que no es el que me enseñó a comer salsa Valentina con Rancheritos. Un país en donde la corriente no va a 120 voltios y mi maquinita para depilar no funciona sin quemarse cuando la conecto. Donde las banquetas no son anchas y no puedes caminar junto a otra persona y sino en fila de hormigas para que alguien más pueda pasar.

No lo había hecho porque no había necesidad; aún no era real. Fue real cuando pensé tengo que barrer porque el piso no se barre solo y mis calcetines se están ensuciando. Aún así es maravilloso, aunque la ropa no se seque a tiempo y todo esté cerrado los domingos. Parece como si jugara a la casita y por eso sé que algo falta, pero no importa, ya me asustaré cuando eso llegue.

Lo más extraño es hablar inglés con gente que habla español (y un montón de idiomas extraños), en un país que tiene el castellano como lengua oficial, en una ciudad donde todos hablan catalán en las calles. Lo mejor es que les entiendo. Más de lo que entendía cuando llegué. Y que la primera persona que me agregó a Facebook es turca. Que hay tiendas de té por todos lados y hay cafés, librerías, tiendas de teléfonos y peluquerías por igual. Que mi credencial de estudiante es magenta y me hace descuento en libros de Taschen. Que aunque no he visto la playa, ya vi el mar. Y las patatas bravas con sangría. Y que vendan alfajores Havana en el Corte Inglés, a precio de oro. Saber que he vivido una semana con alguien y sigo hablándole.

Lo peor es que a los únicos españoles que conozco son el señor que me renta y a su hijo de 5 años, el chico de MoviStar, la señora de Vodafone, la chica que cuida los libros de la escuela, la secretaria y la titular que parece sacada de una ilustración de Garance Doré. No tener Internet automáticamente, el desfase de horarios y el costo de las llamadas. Las fallas de las tarjetas del banco y no poder agarrar el teléfono por que sí. Contar las monedas de un centavo y pensar ¿cuánto es esto?

Lo mejor es que tus papás te digan “estás más valiente y más lista de lo que pensaba”. Lo peor es que no estén aquí para descubrirlo juntos. Saber que las relaciones son como ligas que cuando se estiran mucho quedan inservibles. Saber que tengo que cambiarme antes del 3 de enero y mover mis cosas de nuevo.

Pero me gusta, me gusta mucho. Y amo la Fnac.

I want to make a pretty blog

This is my moms present for me, so I can write plenty. So I can keep it in my purse.

El viajero del siglo

Además, continuó Sophie, él realmente se esfuerza por ser todo un caballero, no sé si me explico, ¡un verdadero, pudoroso caballeo¡ Ajá, se revolvió Hans. Pero Sophie no dijo nada más. Ajá, insistió él cada vez más inquieto, o sea, todo un caballero, ¿demasiado …caballero? Es un alivio, sonrió Sophie, poder hablar con alguien mal pensado. Y tú, se atrevió Hans, ¿lo consideras bueno? Quiero decir, ¿tú valoras muchísimo la… caballerosidad? Ya deberías saberlo, contestó ella asomando el perfil fuera de la visera. Me temo que soy, como lo quiso mi padre, una chica práctica. Hans tragó saliva. Todo era inevitable y fluido como el río.

El viajero del siglo, Andrés Neuman

Some earlier, some later.

171/365 Some earlier, some later.
Originally uploaded by :You, Me, and Photography

La mejor frase

"Manejar una moto sin lluvia, es como ir a los tacos de Santa Tere; pateas al perro, auyentas a las moscas y te paras en la calle sin cuidado.
Manejar una moto en la lluvia, es como comer en un restaurante elegante; haces todo con cuidado, vas tranquilo, te tomas tu tiempo y ves todos los detalles."

Doc. Guenze

The weirdest day

It was the weirdest day.
It began just fine but evoled in a strange manner. Mother intending to have breakfast out and Daughter intending to sleep in. Daughter had to give in.
After preparation and stablishment of time to leave, Father arrived again throwing away any expectation to be able to go out. And yet, in a strange happening, both Mother and Daughter left the house in order to have a lovely chat.
As soon as they arrived and were seated in a crowded sunday-morning essential, a waitress, preignant and busy in her head with her own life and problems and probably thinking how terrible it would be to name her un-born baby something reseambling and eggplant, miss placed her streght and let go of the tray she held. The tray contained a glass made of, well, glass. There was a crack, an unmistakeable sound of shard flying everywhere when Daughter heard a shh sound, followed by a feeling of itching in her cheek and a cling when falling to the ground.
Daughter believed the tiny pang was of nothing but a scratch, how wrong she was.
A napkin on her skin came back tainted in red and again and again, it would not stop. In a rapid pace she went to the bathroom to check in a mirror only to discover the Manager of such prestigios-palace-made-of-iron stablishment, runnig along, asking if there was need for a doctor to come by. Daughter, in terms of not calling more attention said no.
The cut wasn't at all deep and the red stain in her cheek went dry but of course, but by that time the Nurse had already come to make sure it was not a great deal and take a better look. All in all, Mother and Daughter had a free breakfast.
So the texting began, too, Daughter made common knowledge of what had just occured.
Long story short, after a couple sms, the thing ended in "this is so the last try I make, have a nice trip and keep in touch xD" to what Boy answered "Of course, we'll see us around. I'll miss you! " to what Daughter replied "jaja, no you wont." And this, of course, got her down.
For some reason, just this day, she had decided to be very lady-like and wear high heels to a walking day (along with a button-down shirt and cute jeans, very cute) and some time later and after all the glass-cutting/boy-texting drama, got the best of her and wore her down.
Mother and Daughter went back home, where she discovered the reason why it hurted so much; leave it at, her feet looked very much like the one's of a ballerina.

She has now, a huge need to speak of all of those things and yet, her voice ends before it reaches sound.
Daughter is convinced now, specially after watching Jane Austen's Persuassion, her life will never be as great as her fiction can. For this, she has decided to take on her pen and write again, if not the stories that she could make up, the stories that in her own life, will never be.

Just like he said, he could set his heart to his watch, I could make this the excuse for my life

Take someone who suddenly speaks to you in an intimate tone that he had never used with you, who tells you what he had never dared tell anyone. Because he was ordinarily so reserved, you are rightly all the more touched. You sense there a mark of extraordinary confidence. Suddenly he has become a friend. He has chosen you for a friend; he has chosen you for a confidant. At this moment an infallible bond has been established between him and you, this bond which the philosophers call "interpersonal". Moreover it is not only between him and you that something essential has taken place; it is also within him and within you. One becomes a person by means of this genuine and intimate encounter. No one discovers himself in solitude, by turning inward on himself and by analyzing himself. It is by giving one's self that one finds himself. Paul Tornier

Y lo mejor de todo fue que al intentar comprenderte, me dieron ganas de crear

Y lo mejor de todo fue que al intentar comprenderte, me dieron ganas de crear
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

Hidden fire

Hidden fire
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

A brain on its own

A brain on its own
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

Mini diálogo

Yo: Los brownies quedaron aguaditos.
Mamá: Así pasa, la cocina es como los novios.
Yo: Pues me molestan
Mamá: ¿De sobre manera?
Yo: Sí.

Digo, igual saben rico pues... los brownies xD

And this is how I fell in the parking lot instead of falling in love

So..
El chico viene a la oficina y después de platicar y quejarse de mi compañera de trabajo, susurra para que nadie escuche, me dice - nos vemos a las 5:30?- -Oki- digo yo.
A la dicha hora, lo encuentro en el pasillo y caminamos hacia el estacionamiento. Yo voy hacia la derecha y él a la izquierda y dice -Vamos mejor para acá- yo lo sigo. Al parecer me recuerda de enero, lo que es difícil porque yo lo recuerdo en febrero y antes sería imposible. Casi. Quiere comer barbacoa antes de irse, por que en Canadá no hay barbacoa y es rica, yo asiento, sí, la barbacoa es sabrosa. Por el momento se me olvida que hay un lugar donde comer los sábados en la mañana cerca de mi casa. Pero se complica, siempre se complica. Quiere saber cuando es mi último día porque la barbacoa se come en la mañana, al parecer...
Y llegamos a su auto, que confundo porque se me olvida si es negro o gris cuando en realidad es gris obscuro. A mi me da gusto que no sea azul.
De repente, mi mano está recargada en el tronco de un árbol y mis pies se balancean en las raíces que salen del concreto. En 5 años me he parado de esta manera más veces de las que puedo recordar. En 5 años, he visto la pintura de las jardineras de cerca, sólo cuando yo lo he querido. En 5 años nunca me había caído frente al chico que me gusta en el estacionamiento de la escuela.
Así fue que yo terminé en el suelo por medio segundo y el terminó preguntando - no de vdd, ¿estás bien? no te levantes tan rápido- -Sí, de vdd. no pasa nada-
Qué bueno que no me dolió mucho porque las lágrimas hubieran salido 2 segundos después. Bueno que el pensamiento de I am my mother's daugther no duró porque hubiera llorado al medio minuto.
Probablemente lo que debía de haber hecho fue quedarme sentada y reírme y esperar que el chico se sentara conmigo. No, yo me levanté, me reí, juré que nada pasaba y subí a su auto. Roja como un tomate que soy, probablemente, no me acuerdo.
Todos de buen humor, igual. Fue chistoso y torpe, pero de qué otra manera podía ser.
Lo que sigué fue una de esas cosas. De las que dices, ¿para qué espera hasta la hora de la salida si sólo me llevará hacia el auto? Y yo soy muy tonta para estas cosas y además, tengo el reflejo (no siempre estúpido) de mover mi cabeza cuando parece que algo caerá en ella.
So.. he may or may not have tried to kiss me. Guess will never know. O si. Tengo un plan. Odio tener un plan para estas cosas. Mi punto es que, tuve un deja vu a la situación que fue igual sólo que terminó con alguien diciendo si pones la mejilla cada vez, no te quejes luego. Esta vez nadie lo dijo así que, cómo me voy a enterar de la situación.
Llegamos a mi coche, en su coche que estacionó a un lado. Yo esperé y él dijo algo equivalente a bueno nos vemos luego. Yo bajé del auto, agarré mi mochila y me paré junto al mío mientras buscaba el gran llavero.
Él preguntó - ¿no se cayeron las llaves cuando te caíste?- -No! mira, aquí están- -¿No necesitas una curita?- -Nop- -¿Una venda?- -Nop- -¿Un cirujano?- -Nop- (Todo esto con muchas risas y jajas en medio, chistoso todo, no con cara de stop asking stupid questions!)
Y se fue y yo entré a mi coche y grité. Uno, por que me dolía la rodilla donde ahora hay un morete rojo ¿? y dos, por que este chico siempre me deja gritándole a lo que tenga enfrente porque no más no entiendo.
A final de cuentas, es una cosa graciosa de la que me acordaré y ese el punto final de todo.
Lo mejor de la situación es que yo podría escribir con esto un guión tipo años 50's por que todos los cues para cosas lindas están ya puestos! y no ayuda en nada que mi canción del momento sea You go to my head de Bayne Bacon jeje. Sí, tengo como 80 años.

O+

I think I know how to read silences better than looks.
I know I can't tell what my eyes say and it's impossible for me to control them; they say what they want and they don't ask for forgiveness or permission.
I figure not many people have the skill of reading them correctly, so it's no biggie.
I wrote a story once,in my head, about a postive O. I wanted to write it, that was the intention for the characters because she had an O name and he could have been named taht too, so there was an overlapping of O's giving a positive one. It was interesting because two O's make a plus sign while one O makes a whole. I never decided on the names so i changed them.
That was a while ago. Funny.

So it went

This is how it happened; silly, dumb, simple and yes, kinda cute.
He walked into the room, and her heart, instead of going quiet, began a new drumming.
It seems it discovered that for a while, it had been sitting rather still in its corner and was now speaking as hard as it could. She thanked for this, even if it wasn’t true, it was nice and that, she found out, no one could take away from her.
She sat in her own corner in her boss’s office when he spoke; it wasn’t her that he asked for though. So she decided not to come out, but then the phone rang getting in between her meeting and the other girl went out and she had nothing to do and a series of questions to ask so she finally stopped thinking and went out.
And he looked thinner than she recalled and his hair was much shorter. So she said, Of course you asked for my boss but not me, and he said I asked for her but it’s you I’m going to call. And she didn’t say hello because it’s overrated and he remembered to say hello because somehow, he remembers that she doesn’t. And she asked about his visa and he stood up and opened his arms intending a hug, he walked one step and she knew she had to take the next. And her brain said no, and some of her friends in her head said no but for one reason or the other, knowing it wasn’t what she should do, she opened her arms and took one step forward too.
This lasted close to nothing and the immediate need to let go caught up with her. The way she grows cold in a second when she gets too nervous became present and her shoulders became aware of the tension. Never the less, she heard him say the explanation that she had silently asked for; her mind was taking a lot of effort to cover the disappointment she had felt when a day earlier he hadn’t called or shown up. Because, why would someone say I’ll phone you and then not? And if he affirmed he would show up on Tuesday, with out her asking, why would he not?
Bad weather and delayed planes make up for a rather good excuse.
After three signed letters gone to waist and an almost angry boss who allowed this just because of the fondness she feels for her assistant and there for, for him, he sat down by her at the table, made funny faces about her co-worker and talked endlessly about paperwork, all the while she remembered why she thought he was funny and so, worth the while.
So he waited for exit time with out telling her and she imagined this but didn’t ask. They walked out the building and talked about pictures in baby size and warm chicken in cold salad and would she like to eat some? Because in December, when he is coming back, the airports will be so filled with crying children and snow. Then comes the strange part in which they stop in the middle of the parking lot and sort of say goodbye; He says – where is your car?
She says- Over there.
He says- Its too far, do you want to go take some pictures?
She, wanting to go, looks for her cell phone in her always messy purse while saying – I don’t know, Wait, I had to go to pick something up-
He says- Oh. Well, we’ll see each other tomorrow.
And with that he walks away. This is a weird ending and she feels completely strange about it and has no idea what to do of it. So she does the one thing she can think of, go to the nearest Humantree and spill the beans. After all, how else could it be?
Wait for tomorrow! (or someday) when UBC guy will show up (if he does) again!.

*This is of course the shorten version, I'll save you the details of conversations such as "Do you sign language?" and a girl that won't play senless jokes on grown ups she doesn't know and the sudden panic of entering Cute guy's office next to UBC guy.

Blue

It's not about days like these. Not even about the wheather.
It has nothing to do with a certain fantasy guy or even the one that is closer without being real anyway.
I won't mention deceptions or broken promises, careless thoughts or forgotten apointments.
I wont speak of the songs I've never written and the chords I've amazed myself with finding and then, like magic, forgotten two seconds later. Music is like that, its there all along, you just need to find the right combinations and the perfect timming.
Maybe I've read too many stories, watched too many movies and dreamt too much while still awake.
I guess it has something to do with this silly need; I feel like I need to be someone else again. I want to learn a script and become someone else every time. I dont think Id be so terrible at it. Maybe in the acting but not in the becoming. I want to change my name for a day.
Maybe it has something to do with the gray that is starting to crawl into me; it has taken my troath, my hands, my feet. Soon it will reach my brain, my heart. My lungs.
Maybe it has something to do with me listening to Stereophonics and feeling like a love child in the 70's, a flower in my hand and crazy hair flowing around in the wind. They make me want to get high while laying on the rug looking at a moving ceiling fan.
Maybe it was Phoebe in wonderland, maybe it was that I never read Alice, maybe Im getting old and searching for a heart of gold. Maybe Im just getting blue.

*

Wrinkles & Swirls

Wrinkles & Swirls
Originally uploaded by artsyevie

Mini diálogo

"¿Crees que piensen que no tomamos en serio la oficina?"
"Dormimos en la oficina, comemos en la oficina, ligamos en la oficina...mmm no sé"

Originally uploaded by groovysong24

Some days, you wish you could walk under the cold rain and reach up to pick brazilian cherries in a funny hat. Like watching Pride and Prejudice while every branch and leave shake with water falling on them. And then find secret gigant mushdroms hidden in between the wilderness of un-cut, over-grown grass. Some days you do. And you feel again like a small child.

Cositas

Not the best pictures but anyway...

Dance

She never knew. Music was a thing to listen to, to sit on the couch and listen to. Quietly. Headphones on, well stuck where they belong. Drums and guitars are only for recording and voice is better for debating. Singing is like loving, never like debating. Unless you sing about a fight, then it becomes a protest. But she never thought about standing from the couch.
She believed in sitting in a chair and working her way through paper piles and clearing files and creating databases in excel. She made a mistake; when she slid those tiny plastic speakers in her ears, she knew she had been wrong all along.
She wanted to dance. Music fell in her veins like drops of tainted blood that little by little took over her; her hands couldn’t take it and began a beat on the desk, her feet wouldn’t handle it and began throbbing under the table, in high heels, even her mind began wondering about the next sound she would hear, the next 4 chord progression.
All the sudden, with out thinking about it or noticing, she stood up, ipod in one hand, white strings hanging from her head and the rest of her letting go free and dancing like never before. Her boss walked in the hall and like all her workmates, stood next to her, staring helplessly.
He took one look and nodded.
He fired her that same week.

Fame

"Everything you want to change about yourself, all the parts of yourself that you keep secret, Its your power, its who you are."

Fame is back!

Trailer here.
Remember, remember, remeber, Im gonna live forever,baby remember my name...

Movie

Soy el tipo de persona que no lee clásicos. No es que no quiera leerlos, siemplemente tienden a marearme y nunca los termino. Nunca he terminado de leer Jane Austen y claro, he visto un montón de las películas basadas en sus obras.
Sin embargo, sí leo. Mucho. Leo libros que encuentro en bazares y en los libreros de los hoteles. Paperbacks y hard covers, no importa. Recomendados o no, bajados de internet por que el título parecía lindo y la portada me gustó. Sí, por eso termino leyendo cosas como Candy and Me (so sweet) o The knight of my dreams (more like a nightmare) porque como en todo, en donde menos lo esperas, encuentras cosas maravillosas.
Entre ellos hay muchos que después de convirtieron en best sellers o bueno, tal vez eran best sellers cuando yo los descubrí. Uno de ellos es The time traveler's wife.
Si están buscando un libro lindo, largo, con una buena historia que contar, un poco de fantasía pero suficiente realidad para hacerlo creíble, look no further!
Lo leí hace muuucho. Y ahora saldrá la película, con Rachel McAdams. Tenemos que ir a verla!!! por favor!!!
Aquí el link para el trailer que anunciaron hace año y medio cuando todo era rumores. Parece que estará lista para el 14 de agosto, yei!!!

Waking characters

Originally uploaded by geetarooman

Amo esta foto.

Lado Derecho

No tengo nada más que hacer que facebook quizzes. Al parecer uso el lado derecho del cerebro. Soy Yo!!

No verbal: Es consciente de las cosas, pero le cuesta relacionarlas con palabras. Sintético: Agrupa las cosas para formar conjuntos. Concreto: Capta las cosas tal como son, en el momento presente. Analógico: Ve las semejanzas entre las cosas; comprende las relaciones metafóricas. Atemporal: Sin sentido del tiempo. No racional: No necesita una base de razón, ni se basa en los hechos, tiende a posponer los juicios. Espacial: Ve donde están las cosas en rela­ción con otras cosas, y como se combinan las partes para formar un todo. Intuitivo: Tiene inspiraciones repentinas, a veces basadas en patrones incompletos, pistas, corazonadas o imágenes visuales. Holístico: Ve las cosas completas, de una vez; percibe los patrones y estructuras genera­les, llegando a menudo a conclusiones divergentes.

Take a leap

Para mi, hablan de brincar y no sería mejor la vida si brincaramos más seguido? Some times we just have to take a leap and see what happens, we might end up with a nice surprise. The things we dont do are the things we ussually regret.

Del semanario LeCool. Semana 18- 24 junio.

De repente, cuando saltó, todo le vino a la cabeza. Esa frase, el gesto, la mirada. Una canción. Empezó a caer y esbozó una sonrisa, el viento empujaba sus brazos hacia atrás, volaba, casi no podía abrir los ojos, tiembla, tiembla, tiembla, el suelo, el mar, los árboles, cada vez más grandes, más cerca, más fuertes, rápido rápido rápido, “¿ahora te acuerdas?”, “qué bien que me haya decidido”, “no me arrepiento de nada”, más rápido más rápido más rápido, árboles, mar, suelo, canciones, frases, gestos, miradas, baja, baja, baja.

Y entonces, la cuerda llegó a su fin y rebotó mandándole de vuelta al cielo como un yoyó desbocado. Y despertó.

Getting a foot off the ground.

Jumping
Originally uploaded by Bern@t

If you know me, and you do, you now i dont make plans into the future. Never. maybe an undetermined future but never for a certain date or situation. I never do this because doing it means getting the one foot I have on the ground off and going free with the thinking. And the dreaming. And the everything that such actions imply. And when things dont work out how I planned them, not even because what I planned doesnt work but because everything else stops working, I feel bad.
I once said that I didnt day dream, I wasnt lying. I guess after that day in which I declared I couldnt see unicorns going into the parking lot (which I still don't) I realized that day dreaming its such a permanent state in my mind that I dont even notice it anymore. That freaked me out a little, but then again not so much. Thats that and its better to face it.
I was talking to my astrology-liking friends the other day, well, one of them, and she said "why dont you just admit that there is a possibility in things and get over the denial?"
And I said "because you know me, Im an double-air sign- acuarian, I fly with the smallest effort. Denying something or saying all that is wrong with it, thats my way of keeping one foot on the ground".
So now, I find myself plannig a head. Not only that, but I havent stopped myself! this is neither good or bad. Its good, sure. Because I like it and its fun and its always a good thing to plan...I guess.
Sometimes I its I feel like my brain is gonna start thinking about something and I have to stop myself from doing so. Not cute.
So the thing is, I thng i've decided to take my foot off the ground. It'll be fine for a little while, right?

Imagine the picture

I wanted to stay up all night;
We could have gone to the late movies show
Or jumped from place to place until everything was closed.
It wouldn’t have mattered at all,
To look forward an endless day;
It seems the sky would have hold for us
The magic it holds for those with blue eyes;
The red in the Sunrise would have been purple and filled with stars.
Like the girl with only one eye,
We would have seen the planets align in the morning light.
Imagine the picture;
Two of us walking trough darkened streets,
Tiny shapes to be seen in the horizon far away,
And never in our minds the doubt of falling birds,
We’d watch the sparrows fly
As they shift form north to south.
Imagine the picture,
It could have been two of us;
Never-ending rambling about the days that have past,
Never-ending wonder about what may come.
And in the midst of the waking time,
The sweet joy to be had.
All along,
It would have been me taking notes with my eyes,
To never erase the details,
To play it again once you’d say goodbye.
Imagine the picture;
It’ll be just me
With out you.

El cable se movió

El cable se movió
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

And then again, that's that.

The big chai theory

"Let's Chai!"
Sí, se ha convertido en un verbo. Creo que dajaré el espacio abierto para que ustedes lo expliquen, hay quienes lo entienden mejor que yo. Lo único que diré es que me encanta que una taza de té o café pueda decir tanto (no entremos en cuestiones esotéricas, pero tmb!) y que tanto se pueda decir al rededor de ellas. Pocas excusas son tan buenas como "quiero un chai" que además suele implicar ir a un lindo lugar a tomarlo. En palabras de Rodrigo, Have a chai week!

Y nos subimos en el coche...

Y así fue que su mano acabó en la mía, de repente y sin preguntar; sin miradas, sin palabras, sin dudas suyas. Sólo las mías que olvidé recordar.
Y así fue que su mano terminó sobre mi pierna y arriba de mi rodilla; sobre el vestido que era sólo tela en el camino, delgada y aspera. El blanco de repente más lindo que el verde. Fue por eso que sus dedos la quitaron y yo no dije nada, no me moví ni respire, porque su brazo se recargaba en mi pecho y sentí que si respiraba profundo él lo notaría y se iría. No se me ocurrió pensar que todo caía en un entendimiento mutuo; que no importaba qué hiciera, él seguiría ahí.
Fue en eso que el coche se detuvo y mis ojos miraron por el retrovisor al conductor intentando decirle que siguiera sin importar el rumbo.
Fue así como no pasó nada, como no se convirtió en el amor de mi vida ni en el chico que he estado esperando, mucho menos el que dejaré de esperar porque ha llegado.
Fue así que se convirtió en la novedad, de la que me rehuso a cansarme hasta que se vuelva vieja la memoria
Y así fue como recordé que extrañaba una mano en mi mano.
Y que me sentí en una canción de Mecano.

So...it's late. Not much to do. Don't want to sleep. Talking to a tree while watching India meets bad hollywood movie. Mmm...funny, feeling like spending 4 hours talking about the blue in the sky.

Pan de plátano!

Whole batch
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

Yummy! Más fotos en flickr. Véanla en grande

I got it! xD

Vibrations

There is a blog I read; it's about a women, Penelope, she is a writer, for what I've read she went to writting school and struggel a lot. Well, now she has a blog that is mostly about getting-a-job advice and how-to-not-feel-like-your-life-is-in-a-whole or how-to-see-things-in-a-better-light. Ussually her advices or comments have to do with that kind of topics, and if it weren't because I'm always trying to see a way out of where I am or the fact that she really knows how to say it -kinda yells at you for being a slaker and then pats your back and says it'all gonna be fine- I woulnt read it at all.
Some times, the way it has to be, her personal life get's in between her advices and the readers end up knowing about her divorce, her farmer boyfriend and how someone wanted to buy the link to that entry or the 25 year old guy that wanted to date her so she could get him a job. Well, this morning she spoke of a guy she is "seeing" -because only at the end of a reflection could she see that she is dating him- and there was something that ring true.
She wrote:

"He sent me a quote about how we each vibrate a certain way and we find our vibrational match. I told him I think that’s true, but I vibrate like an insane person. And I worry that I am attracting my vibrational match for insanity and that if I could just get more sane, I’d attract a different match. He pointed out the obvious: I will probably not get more sane. “This is just you,” he said.
And then I got happy that he is stable and calm and largely unshakable, when I am often shaking as much as I can."

Yes, we attrack our vibrational matches. I dont know what Im supposed to be calling for. Better said, I know the kind of people I attract, I just dont know why I attract them!
I have a friend that once, when he was just broken up with his boyfriend and was kinda down/broken/filled-with-someone-just-broke-my-heart-epiphanies and we were discussing just this; how when you feel like shit and you walk into a bar there are all this people and the one who sees you is the one who is picking up that you feel like shit and is probably not too good a match.
And so, maybe this is all rambling but given the latest news, I wonder what kind of people do I attrack and why, I mean, I know that sometimes I go falling right into the rabbits whole even when I know that I should just be running like a mad women to the opposite direction but, usually, I dont even know that there is a whole in the floor to fall into! Is there something about me that screams, Come over, I will welcome you people with deep scared issues? Do I look like I can fix them?
I used to think that I looked like the kind of person that needs to be rescued or saved, specially if it was a stranger who did the looking. I thought they wanted to feel like they could save someone because in their worlds, acting like a hero was beyond what they could do and I made it easy with my endless rambling and silly never ending drama.
But now I realize, that maybe that wasn't it. Maybe there was something more I just dont know what it is...

That day we were also discussing what happens when people gets stuck in something or more like someone. I figured, just like it is easy to keep someone close when you know there is something, even if you don't feel it too, it is also easy to keep someone close when there is nothing. Its easier to keep the drama on and on and just say, this is alright because of waht ever reason. This can be an excuse to not look around you and try to find something else. It sucks to be in that stage where you dont have anyone to feel for, not even to be interested in so, knowing that there is someone safe to keep your interest on its just.. well that, safe..I guess. He said people gets additec to things, like conflict, drama being included; you just need a fix of something going on and its easy to take it from there.

If someone wants to read Penelope's blog, which I highly recommend, the link is here. And if Im wrong, please correct me because, I just dont know anymore.

Banca

Banca
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

Tengo una cámara Diana+.Es azul y negra y tiene una cosito plateado. Muy linda. Es formato 120 mm, película que yo nunca en la vida había usado antes. No tiene forma de poner el rollo como cámara normal.Por eso, yo y mis torpes manos no supimos cómo acomodarlo y y a la hora de dar los saltos de un cuadro a otro, seguro conté mal. Pero! tenía esto revelado desde hace muchoooooo osea, casi un año creo.. más? y que ayer me doy cuenta de que se pueden pasar los negativos revelados por el escaner! y yo fui feliz!
así que aquí están las 3 fotos que salieron medio lindas jaja poruqe la mitad del rollo se atoró y se veló..je

Luz

Luz
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

TrEe

TrEe
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

i'm a festival, i'm a parade

i'm a festival, i'm a parade
Originally uploaded by sevenworlds16

Qué lástima quea la gente le guste más siendo lo que no soy.

Soft soft

Very pretty.
Alexi Murdoch "All My Days" Vinyl Fever-Tampa, FL (Best)

About Failures

The kid took a deep breath and hen smiled. She went up stairs and changed her shoes, a better match. She came back down and found her in a cry; How could you this to me? She screamed, How Could you even try?
The girl promised in a soft voice it had been just a breath, nothing else. But she didn’t believe it and raised her voice again. So the girl raised it too. It wasn’t a competition but sometimes it might appear so. So she screamed again, How can you be this way? Why are you this… this… person… this monster…?
The girl sat in the arm of a chair and said nothing. She sat and thought what she should said, but said nothing. She carried on, she said, This thing you are, it makes me a failure. You make me a failure. I gave you only love and now, you are this thing, and it makes me fail.
The girl couldn’t hear those words so she shut herself inside. No crying allowed until mommy was out. She went to bed, her dramatic Greta Garbo dying act. The girl said she was sorry, feeling her insides crumble. One more time. Just one last time. She said nothing.
It is now that the girl begins to cry; she goes to the bathroom and catches the eye; the red silhouette the puffy lips the wet nostrils and the lost smile. The green eyes. She’s right, a monster at last.

Free Ride
Originally uploaded by theGentleman™

Sure, she is the kind of girl that doesn´t need somone to win her a stuffed animal at the state fair. But she wishes someone would anyway.

Brats

Si es vdd que nunca me he creído una niña consentida, lo sea o no, no importa, porque ahora este trabajo me está haciendo una malcriada!
Qué va a pasar cuando en algún momento tenga que salir de aquí y hacer otra cosa en otro lugar y resulte que bueno, de 8 horas de trabajo tenga que trabajr 9 o 10. En un lugar donde no me den la comida a un peso y donde talvez, ni siquira habrá cafe o snack y tendré que llevar mi comida preparada una noche anterior! un lugar donde no podré ponerme a escribir posts o editar fotos o ver Gossip girl. O donde mi jefa me odie poruqe cree que tengo habilidades para hacer mi trabajo.
Qué miedo. When it comes to work, at least, Im becoming a brat.

Vamos otra vez...

Ahora sí, no es un arte fácil prometer y menos cuando no depedende ya de uno mismo pero, miren!! ajá.. I'm so not gonna win.. pero qué se le va a ahcer, a trabajar para ganar el del cuento. O bueno, por lo menos pero tener algo en que entretenerme por el momento.
Igual aquí está el link.

*nota: en caso de no ganar, solicito una nieve acompañada de gente, así que vayan juntando para comprar un helado.

Hilando culturas

Lo hice. terminé. Después de tanto pensarle, moverle, preguntar opiniones y cambiar de proyecto una y otra vez, terminé. Lo mandé! no sé que pasará, pero aún si no quedo ni en la preselección valió la pena intentarlo. Happy happy!!

We are young. We meet people.

I just want my pants back

Hace un rato leí un libro acerca de que un chico de Nueva York que busca sus Dicki'es, en otras palabras, sus jeans favoritos. Buscando si había subryado algo encontré esto.

"A very close friend once told me that the most important things in life happen when you're just hanging out. What I think she meant was, well, you can have a good time with just about anyone on a roller coaster, or at the Super Bowl, or inVegas. But it's really how you feel in the little moments you're standing on a line at the DMV, or when you're sick with the flu, or who you can still have fun with while, say, having a heated debate about the pros and cons of wedding appetizers, well," I paused, "That`s something"

I guess Im lucky then.

I just want my pants back- David J Rosen

A cracking sound in the window is that,
a sound.
The door opened for a reason,
to allow the wind in.
The birds sang just because,
they sing all day long.
The sky grew orange, yes,
it was that time of the day.
The racing heart,
just a disease.
The scene turning to magic purple,
it was an accident.
It was an illusion.

Riesgos de la semana

*Mandar un cuento

*Ir a clase de astrología

*Recordarle a un extraño que me conocía

*Hacer maniquis sin copiarlos del libro

xD

Manifiesto

Desde una vez que estaba en clase de literatura y me dijeron que para las nuevas generaciones de escritores se hacían manifiestos, he querido hacer uno. No importa de qué en realidad, aunque nunca imaginé esto...
Ahora, en lugar de hacer un manifiesto estilo dadaísta y pegarlo en los postes de Chapultepec, hago manifiestos para UPS...

Paper Clips.

paper clips.
Originally uploaded by jessi.

Los clips con cosas raras; son pequeños (o grandes) fierritos hechos rollito. Se usan para detener cosas, hojas en especial. No sé a que persona ociosa se le ocurrió hacerlos, seguro el mundo de las papelerías, bodegas de oficina y personal administrativo se lo agradecen.
Yo sólo tengo una pregunta, por qué sucede que los clips redondos siempre se atoran solitos, sin que uno los junte, pero los cuadraditos no. Seguro se aplica a la vida, pero no quiero ponerme a pensar...

I’ve been changing cloths, skin and colors.
Moving my furniture around.
Closing doors, holding windows open.
Looking in, looking out.
Walking from one place to the other
Doing this and that and this again
Swapping a brush from end to start of the page
Filling my hands with ink and painting the walls
Pressing my ear to wooden floors
All just to see if a can find the reasons
If I can discover the truth
If I can finally get to the source of the secret
I cant’t. I haven’t.
I don’t understand this game
I’ve lost and haven’t even played
So many rules unsaid
Wasn’t the whole point to feel?
To share and to allow someone in?
My head has decided to spin
My heart to stop
My hands to move
I’ve been changing cloths, skin and colors….

Muchas veces no hago las cosas por el miedo a equivocarme; desde chiquita era así pero cuando crecí se hizo peor. No corría en la pista ni cachaba el balón para tratar de encestar y definitivamente nunca levantaba la mano en clase cuando la maestra preguntaba algo porque me asustaba no tener la respuesta correcta. Después, cuando iba a clases de pintura, tardaba mucho más que las demás en agarrar el pincel y repetir el ejercicio en el lienzo y era extremadamente lenta para poner atención en cada rayita y cada pedazo de color.
Todo bien, nunca me han gustado los deportes y no entiendo de pintura. No me importa tanto no ser la favorita de la clase que sabe todo, en especial ahora uqe no tengo clases.
El problema empezó cuando trataba de escribir y no podía poner las palabras en el papel por el miedo de hecharlas a perder o pensar tanto antes de hacer algo que se me acabara el tiempo o agarrar el lápiz y dibujar una silueta que seguro no queda bien pero si la hiciera más seguido, quedaría mejor. Lo peor es cuando es algo que se puede arruinar.
En mi cumpleaños mi mamá me regaló un cuaderno hermoso; es un poco más pequeño que un tamaño carta, tiene un forro rosa como de gamuza y hojas gruesas amarillentas con una delgadita entre la pasta y la primer página. Tengo la pluma perfecta para escribirle o dibujarle...pero me da miedo arruinarlo y hacer algo que no se vea bien, que tenga que tachar o borrar u olvidar.
Últimamente el miedo me ha hecho evitar hacer cualquier cosa que después pueda querer olvidar. ¿Tiene sentido? no sé qué siento poruqe me apanica desde diciembre saber qué es lo que estoy sintiendo, así que llegó enero y decidí olvidarme de todo. Desde entonces, en mi cofrecito enterrado hay un pánico a arruinar mi vida, una necesidad de ser feliz y de no ser olvidada (y de no olvidar) una insufrible nostalgia a los ancianos y un terror a los niños que parte de mi decide nunca tener y parte de mi quiere muchísimo. Las dos ideas, junto con muchas otras, me hacen querer llorar.
El punto final era, hoy saqué mi pluma linda (a la que le pinté manchas moradas) con la tinta más negra (nunca más que el sharpack ) saqué mi cuaderno hermoso que tenía envuelto en papel textura magitel y estrellitas rosas y después de pensar por un rato en una frase de 3 líneas y un dibujo de lo más sencillo, apoyé por fin la punta sobre el papel.

Pink Balloons

It doesn't make sense. Everything is just fine and then one day, I blush all of the sudden. I talk too fast and make little sense. I loose my point and I hate it. Mostly because it makes me feel. Because it makes me fear. Because I like it. Because it's a rush and my head spins and I feel dizzy...
So I make an effort, a small one, just to try and to be able to say I tried. To know that if somehting does happens after ward, it 'll be because of something I did. Because I can't understand waisted time and my heart clenches with the thought of it. Because my subconscious hasn't stopped reminding me about it even if my conscious doesn't stop ging at how silly and dumb it is.
All of this makes me restless and quiet, nervous and definitely shaky. It makes me weary.
Whats the word you use when you feel like you can burst into tears if you only breathe deep?
It`s not really something, is it? I refused to believe that this was something and then one day I woke up. And then one day I realize all of this is just like running after pink balloons flying on the highway; a never ending road where I keep chasing after something that is not meant to be mine.

I had a beatiful week, I mean, so pretty I can't stop smilling. I told someone that most likely, I'd be paying a big karma check for all the bliss and he said, maybe this is karma paying back. Silly me, I convinced myself into beliving him. I ll give this 2 days.

Photo by.. Me!!!

No lo quería decir en caso de que no se hiciera, la vdd es que para muchos puede no ser nada y eso está bien. Pero para mi sí es algo y se los quiero enseñar. La querían para la versión impresa pero por algo no funcó, la movieron a la versión en línea y seguro la quitan en 3 horas junto con la noticia que ni siquiera me ha importado leer. Bueno sí pero no con atención. Les dejo la foto de la página jeje. El contacto fue de la revista Art+Auction de los Los Ángeles y terminó en ArtInfo que es como una cosa actualizada más seguido. No me pagaron obvio y hay a quien le puede parecer que es mucho más fácil ir por la vida bajando las fotos de Flickr que ir a tomarla ellos mismos o por lo menos pagar por ella, pero, no me importa. Mi foto está en un lugar no lugar porque alguien dijo mira, ponemos esa y yo dije sí! jeje. xD

El artículo está aquí.
Y si quieren verla en grande acá.

Sharpacks!!! y duos jejeje claro, en lugar de hacer mi tarea, hago cosas. ¡Qué raro!

RiBbOnS

7 pounds

Sólo porque nunca me había quedado en la sala viendo los créditos para escuchar la música en entre las butacas vacías. Y porque me encontré en la pantalla y fue, com diría Cabral, "muy triste pero muy lindo".

Converse

Recuérdenme que no importa lo que pase, nunca hay que dejar los converse jejeje.

"Estás sola, está mal."

Eso es todo lo que tengo uqe decir.

NestHead

NestHead
Originally uploaded by groovysong24

ReAdInG

Done with Murakami just to understand the beauty of memmory and connections. Continue with Green (yet again) and the Travels with my aunt (1969) his, not mine jeje.

Just what I've been telling myself for a year!

l

365:2:21 .. Spines
Originally uploaded by fwumpbungle

" Don't expect just any old warm body to meet your emotional needs. It's about finding the right person, but until that happens, fill your life with meaning. Volunteer, forge new relationships and reach out to others. Surrounding yourself with others is the best way to stave off the loneliness."

Kind a cute any way. And not a whole year, just a couple of months..
*******
No tengo mucho uqe hacer así uqe he leído, bastante. Entre Tuck Everlasting y Kafka en la orilla, las noches se me han pasado pero fácil. No sé mucho de literatura japonesa pero sé que amo a Murakami! y que algún día lo tienen que leer poruqe es maravilloso y aunque de vez en cuando su personaje secundario se pierde en la surrealidad del asunto, no puedo culparlo por su manera inimaginable de enredar los destinos de sus personajes. Después de todo, su fuerte ES el realismo mágico. Les dejo frases, no sé si las entiendan sin el contexto de toda la página pero a mi me dejan algo.

"Acabo de descubrir en la señora Saeki a la niña de quince años. Duerme acurrucada en un pequeño hoyo, como un animalito hibernando dentro del cuerpo de la señora Saeki."

"Temes a la imaginación. Y a los sueños más aún. Temes a la responsabilidad que puede derivarse de ellos. Pero no puedes evitar dormir. Y si duermes, sueñas. Cuando estás despierto, puedes refrenar más o menos la imaginación. Pero a los sueños no hay manera de controlarlos."

"-Exacto. El pecado original- dice Oshima. Y hace oscilar un lápiz largo en los dedos indice y corazón como si fuera una balanza-En dfinitiva, lo que quería decirte es lo siguiente; para un ser humano es muy duro vivir solo."

Y la que más me gusta, con eso de que suelo encontrar mi corazón lleno de agua...

"Tu corazón es como un gran río crecido tras un largo período de lluvias.Los postes indicadores del camino están, todos sin excepción, sumergidos en la corriente, o tal vez hayan sido arrastrados a otro lugar oscuro. Y la lluvia sigue cayendo torrencialmente sobre el río. Y cada vez que veas en las noticias las imágenes de unas inundaciones pensarás: "sí, justo. Ése es mi corazón"."

Busqué por si tenía algo guardado en After dark pero no encontré nada señalado...igual sé que me encantó.


Pic by fwumpbungle