La Mar Adentro/The Sea Inside

al àpice de raìces enredadas estoy y de la estirpe humana como tù soy yo, Nuestros cuerpos cifrados son, de nietos todavìa no nacidos la boca de eva y adàn y la faz del primer hombre que buscò alimento para que nacieramos. del àpice de las raices vivas me volvi A construir una fènix ofrenda piràmide a Dios frotarme ampollas nuevas intentarè para que se rescucitaran los àtomos de siempre Dia y noche intento descifrar los codigos de mi sangre buscando en mis manos la fe y las ampollas de los que construyeron Teotihuacàn: mis huesos, glifos de mèdula de un luchador rendido que en el fùnebre crepùsculo de su entierro habìa una luz trèmula de mi presente la chispa de la luz de nuestro giro incesante por el eje eterno. (Y sigamos en busqueda del pasado y del advenimiento.)

This is what I will be doing, come Monday December 8, 2008, for 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week. This is like telling a man in prison, that if he turns his bed on it's side, he can use it to do pull ups, so don't worry about not being able to go for a run. Though come to think of it, even prisons have gyms. On Monday I will become an industrialized worker, who performs only 1 task in a system of tasks, rather than being a holistic contributor to all aspects of the goals of my Agency. I watched a movie last night whose main character was from Greenland, she had grown up in the vast expanses of snow and landscape--her idea of Hell was to be enclosed. I thought about quitting the job I have not yet started. I decided to hold out and see how it actually feels. Last night I also met someone who has a similar 40-hours-a-week-in-front-of-the-computer job. She said that the first week, her eyes were constantly bloodshot, and every hour her body felt so restless. Now, her eyes have adju...

Nieta a Abuela: Viste el libro del arte de mi profesor, Malaquias? Abuela a Nieta: Si. El es muy...radical...? (Abuela comienza "radical" con el tono de una declaracion...tiene dudas y se acuerda con quien esta hablando entonces lo termina mas con tono de pregunta) Nieta a Abuela: O sea, El no permite k nos olvidamos de las cosas k pasan en el mundo. (Nieta comienza con tono de declaracion...no quiere hacerla a la abuela sentir mal entonces lo termina mas con tono de pregunta) Abuela a Nieta: (un poco defensiva) Pues, EL escoge lo ke el creE ke es importante no olvidar. Nieta a Abuela (senalando a una obra de arte en la pared, de unas naranjas): Asi como este artista escogio recordarnos de las naranjas, mientras gente moria...

Those of us in our early-mid twenties probably remember the Clinton years, the ends of which were tainted by the Lewinsky debaucle as a (looking back) silly segway into the BUSH ADMINISTRATION years. So, for all of my waking political life I have lived with a combination of love & loathing for the people and ideas of people of this country as the political scene has become more and more polarized. I have been at once aghast at the spiritual depravedness of our "Leader", while at the same time KNOWing that this system is sick and although it still plays a role in the organizing of human affairs, that at some point we will hear its death rattle and I don't know if I will be alive for that or not. I have wavered between believing this system will have to completely disintegrate to give way to something new, and hoping that change will happen so organically that we don't have to see complete destruction before the base for a new world system is built. Since Bush ha...

Estaba caminando, pensando en los ultimos dias porque fui a Los Angeles y vi mucha gente, pensaba k seguro estos dias me dieron algo para explorar con palabras...pero sabia tambien k tendrian k "percolate" un poco mas, tendria k permitirlas pasar por todas partes de mi mente, digerirlas para darles vida, anyways, cuando pensaba esto, casi al fin de mi caminata, vi esta hoja en la calle. Tenia todos los colores, tenia primavera, verano y otonio todas juntas- no tenia colores muy FUERTES - los k usualmente me llamen la atencion--pero me parecia mas linda por tener sus colores mas humildes - una belleza k cuesto encontrar, una belleza k no gritaba. me parece k cuando la mente esta muy agitada, busque las cosas mas tranquilas y justo cuando la agarre, comenzo a tocar esta cancion de Ursula Rucker en mi ipod: (*disculpa, es la unica copia k encontre, alguien ha puesto sus propias fotos) y en vez de seguir caminando con mis pensamientos en gira, me sente, disfrute de la vista de So...

This morning I woke up and rolled over in the comfort of my bed, in a time of war, to check my email. Grex had sent me a video, in a time of war, of Hector Buitrago's "Damaquiel". Damaquiel is a beautiful track, bodies moving, sending salutations, in a time of war, in a place of war, colors and patterns and hips and trees and guitars and resilience. An Afro-Colombian man traverses the city and the the countryside, he dancingly shuffles, floats just above the surface of the earth, in a time of war, and his feeling is one of praise, he sings it, he shares it, his arms wave about to disperse it into the air, to bring it out in my own body moving in my room as the soundwaves hit my ears. Here, in my room, i'm surrounded by my beautiful things, in a time of war, i'm surrounded by my purple and yellow dried corn wombs, watercolor paintings from my grandmother, painted wooden boxes, carved seed jewelry, a warm hoodie, my holy books, I'm going to get up now and make ...