Tuesday, December 30, 2008

news/noticas echo & narcissus

Film Pulgar
Chris Danowski (translation by Iris Mexico)

Bien, aquí estoy a las seis de la tarde en la noche del miércoles, el miércoles antes del día de gracias y no sé exactamente que quiero hacer aquí… Creo que me gustaría decir que si observas cerca del ojo, si observas muy muy cerca el ojo de alguien, tú ves las partes del ojo (del uno que observa). Y ahí están, las partes del ojo que conozco serían: la retina, la pupila, y está la parte alrededor de la pupila que rodea el centro donde puedes ver dentro del alma, la parte alrededor de la pupila creo se llama iris, si lo recuerdo correctamente –ah!-
Y esta es la parte que da al mmm, al ojo el destello y el color y ayuda a guiar la vista. Y si tu vivieras en este ojo supongo que sabrías todas las direcciones a las que necesites ir y de repente te encontrarías una mañana en el centro de la rueda de la fortuna, y desde esa rueda podrías ser capaz de tomar cualquier decisión y cualquier giro y caminar en cualquier sendero que desees.

Ok, wow, estoy grabando mucho hoy, pero está bien (suspiro) quizá hice una cosa estúpida, no estoy realmente seguro pero… el doctor dijo que podría quitar la venda y mirar si quería, entonces lo hice, y, aquí esta. Esta es la nueva versión. Esta es la versión 3.0 de mi pulgar.

Y como cabellos salvajes que vienen a tu puerta y te conducen a cualquiera otra puertas que alguna vez imaginaste.

El sendero del camino que te conduce a desde la civilización hacia la naturaleza y este camino, ah, es el camino a mi propia naturaleza carnal…

Y te encontré. Y cuando te encontré, te encontré mirándome. Y no sé a veces si estoy hablándote a ti o estoy hablándole a una musa y justo ahora no estoy seguro si te estoy hablando a ti, o a una musa o le estoy hablando a una cámara que me mira… es necesariamente “yo” observándome a mi mismo, y no sé si yo te observo podría estar viéndote o podría estar viéndome porque no estoy terminado y no puedo completar la historia sin ti… Hay un terminación en el camino que podría finalizar con la segunda parte de la oración o esa parte de la pregunta que es su opuesto.

Creo que luce como el viejo excepto que un poco más corto.

El opuesto también contiene el espejo de su inicio.

La verdad es que ahora mismo saboreo la sangre en mi boca, y la verdad es que ahora hay cosas recorriendo mis venas que están haciendo el mundo muy ah… un lugar muy extraño.

Acabo de ver El Libro de Cabecera, mmm… mientras lo veía en esta clase de estado del delirio, continuaba mmm teniendo otras imágenes que empezaron a mezclarse dentro de la película, mmm, o el filme, debería decir, más un filme que una película, mmm, y me gusto mucho, mucho mucho, ah, me gusta… muchísima escritura en el filme, de cualquier forma, estaba muy bien, om, de cualquier forma, sigo entrando y saliendo, y las entradas y salidas, mm, ahí hubieron imágenes de alucinaciones, o cosas aquí, como en la casa pero cosas que… ah, bueno cosas como; afuera ha estado lloviendo toda la mañana y afuera en el teléfono por la casa hay maceteros que se inundaron y… ah, estaban muy mojados, las flores estaban bien, pero las flores se habían inundado, y entonces cuando en cierta forma yo regrese a través de eso que me di cuenta que no tengo maceteros aquí, entonces fueron un montón de sueños acerca de cosas que… ah, que no estaban realmente aquí… oh, sueños acerca de cosas que ah, que yo me había olvidado, pero que no eran cosas que ah… ¿cuál es la palabra? Había más aquí, habían cosas escondidas que estaban haciéndose visibles o cosas que no había notado antes…

Cuando esta herida se abrió… esta ocasión en octubre, alguien más vino a tocar en mi imagen y preguntando por qué me gusta ver el mundo de cabeza. Un hombre colgado, bien colgado... desde este espacio, no puedo ni hacer una pregunta o dar una respuesta, ah, este espacio de sueño donde todas nuestras preguntas y todas las respuestas son sospechosas.

¡Ah! Realmente, ah, no lo mires demasiado.

Y entonces planeo encontrarme a menudo comiendo carnívoro y peligroso por el filo de una cueva enterrada en medio de la naturaleza, y con esto…
Envío un beso.

Beso y soplo…

para

Yo soy
;-p


C 2008
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z9xNOcKv0GI&feature=channel_page


Love Lovely
de Iris Mexico (traducion de Chris Danowski)
To integrate loving blessings between volatile desires
Why every moment transformations are different, and we wish to integrate what minutes ago, minutes more, hours less we wanted to disintegrate and vice versa?... Is it that every day you wake up with my name on your lips, wishing to integrate yourself with me, or is it that there are times when you do not know me or times when you really want to dissolve our bonds? Can we believe that every morning is a repetition, can we confirm that every day is different, repetitions flow in spirals, circles, zigzags, straight lines… and there are those who say that they bring hidden blessings… How then, with so many uncertainties related to the volatile thing of our desires and of the repetition, could we have a certainty to integrate ourselves in love?
To integrate loving blessings between volatile desires…

To integrate strawberry butterflies’ moments
Today, I had strawberries with natural yogurt and bee honey for breakfast… and I thought about you… after that, I took the morning sun on the terrace, and you came back to my memory… later I saw that you thanked me for the pictures of the dinner that I sent you, I was wearing a long draper dress, with pierreries in the décolleté, colored pignon, the silk emphasized my bronzed skin, and my make up in Mexican pink and golden tones… You wrote me that the woman in the picture is like a dream, I wonder if love is like a dream, a blessing to which we wish to integrate ourselves, and nevertheless she is as fragile as the butterflies that greet us in the garden. Then I recognized myself as the instant… and that wonders are not less by being ephemeral…
To integrate strawberry butterflies’ moments…

To integrate ourselves or to remember ourselves in timeless portraits
It was nine o’clock when I saw you, do you remember? And that was the instant which, for some strange surprise, destiny kept for us, and even though you were accompanied by a very pretty girl, we were ready to decide us for us, and we began to talk about twins, pretense, representation, presentation and the multiple forms of portraying reality… They say that the worst of all the steps is the first, perhaps it was singularly simple for us to overcome the inertia of having ignored us in the past, probably we remembered us from past millennia, distant seas and exotic landscapes… and we concentrate the force of solitudes and yearnings to impregnate each other with letters, dreams and actions…
To integrate ourselves or to remember ourselves in timeless portraits…

To integrate the lemniscata glance with rose petals
Do you want to believe that we are going to see this New Year as if it were the first time that days will pass in our heart, because of the fact that we are sharing the view? And so it is that you have begun to observe the world through my eyes, and I recognize myself inhabited in your maps… And you are, and I am, when the pupils wake up every day decorated by the Iris, under sandalwood perfume and skins made humid by the sea… When I read your plays, I recognize my portrait behind my confessions, and I know that when you listen to my voice, you recognize what you wanted to say to yourself… In a lemniscata kiss, we cross borders and we seed roses…
To integrate the lemniscata glance with rose petals…

To integrate in our skin the stars, science, the heart, worlds and fetish
Oh, and I sigh, countless sighs in your name… And my grandfather keeps watching soccer every afternoon, I suppose that his vital energy is nourished by the sexual metaphor of a ball of semen untiringly looking for the ovule goal… ah, did I tell you that he is over eighty years old and he asked to me to buy him a sexual stimulant? Even though I am his most faithful pornography distributer, I am taking some time in order to fulfill his request this time, because I have to consult with a doctor to see which is better, Viagra or vitamins?… they warn that even some vitamins should not be ingested by people under 18, so I wonder about over 80… Have you used sexual stimulants?, I wonder if you would need them with me?, could we integrate our erotic desire only illuminated by the sun, or would we find light from adults’ toys and provocative substances?, and so it is that when fusing ourselves we keep on being present in this world of families, sports, medicines and the fetish, and we add this to ourselves as well… oh, but I still have curiosity, I know that it will be months before we begin to add the world in our skin, although we begin to experiment in sharing this in the epistles of now…
To integrate in our skin the stars, science, the heart, worlds and fetish…

To integrate childhood and magic in a smiling kiss
Yes, corazón, I recognize the caution, I understand that you don’t talk about your childhood on the first date, and that you have not yet cried on my lap… ay! Women are quicker to tears and drama, maybe even though I don’t watch soap operas, and don’t read pink novels, they are part of my genes… and do you still have patience for my restless nights and infantile confession? I can’t help it, it’s just that some days I wake up fragile, like regressing to that girl who has lost something and still does not know what it is… as if you could help me find it… and then you send me a gift, maybe that’s what I lost, and that will help me to complete me, nevertheless the government postal service on the border of River Piedra is so slow… and I have been waiting for centuries… I sigh again, you call me and you swear to me that this time the postman will ring my door… and I don’t know, maybe it is not necessary anymore, there is something magic that I could receive in my dreams or in your kisses.
To integrate childhood and magic in a smiling kiss…

To integrate the shared truth
It’s nine minutes after nineteen hours… and I still don’t choose the truth with which I will go to bed tonight… I wait… You will come at nine under the moon, and maybe then we can choose a shared truth… if you want… You like my cut crystal glasses, and I love to see how the pink cider plays and is reflected between transparent forms under candlelight… Sometimes you do not see the glasses, neither do you see my dress, nor my hands, nor my lips, nor your hands, nor my eyes, nor the emptiness… sometimes I know that you are observing my soul, and that I do not have anything to lose, and that I can trust your glance…
To integrate the shared truth…

To integrate the courage in the middle of fragility
Ah! That is what my vanity whispered to me on the boulevard, when I was with my mother, who asked me where I came from.
- From Palais-Royal.
- And I from the Opera –she said to me-; I thought I would see you there.
- Why?
- Because the duke was there.
- Ah, he was there?
- Yes.
- Alone?
- No, with one of his girlfriends.
- That was it?
- The count went for a moment to his theater box; and then she left with the duke C. I kept thinking I would see you. There was a seat next to me that was empty all evening, and I was convinced that it was for you.
- But why am I going to go where the duke goes?
- Because he is your lover.
This ridiculous parody reminded me of the fragility of my susceptibilities, the vulnerability of my shame, if I had found him on the eve of his wedding and he had talk to me honestly, of course I would not have been so stupid. I was on the verge of going to see him, but I feared that revenge covered us with its mantle…
The most horrifying part of my situation is that even “The Lady of the Camellias” damaged me… love forces us to put our dreams in the hands of someone who can destroy them, and that is inevitable… I suppose that the only way I can accept that trip to Paris you want us to take together is by being brave… and do you think it is worth it, do you think that I am strong by being able to show you my fragility? Oh! If we know well that we are all still more fragile than butterflies. You have already have confessed it to me, in many of your deeper pains, you knew that there is pain in the world, you knew the relation between desires, consequences and causes, and even still you thought that it would not happen to you… Yes, I feel the same…
To integrate the courage in the middle of fragility…

To integrate intuition and life
I was seduced by your story of walking on a road with a heart, I found me in your words about how you intuited that to be together is a life way… It enamors me that you pronounce my name with untiring pulsing, and that, flexible to the life current, you receive my force… I like you when you dance between rhythms, sheets and verses… I kiss you, then, in the soul…
Sugar Bloom Iris
I am
http://www.5celula.org/selai2008/irism.htm

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Thumbtock

There are three things to discuss:

thumb

santeria/ this yaworaje

the third is just a matter of discretion but it's the only thing on my mind (well the other two also...but the third, oh the third...)

there needs to be a way to make hyperlinks for all of these (i know the way is called hyperlink, but that's not quite it...)

so i will just talk about all of them in one single breath--

i have been a Yawo for 11 months 2 weeks and 1 day now, and am looking forward to the anniversary of my crowning (jan. 5th) and the week after that where everything goes back to normal (jan 12 only not so normal, as if it were ever so ever so as if it were ever so...). i have less thumb, less money (in graduate school, not teaching as much, and after next semester not at all, so, ha...interesting to see how this will turn out...new adventures in the wings...), a lot of work, a lot of new work, a lot of strange experience, and more strange experience, and suddenly, strange experience...

I want to talk about the thumb.

Here's why they say you should not divine for someone you are attracted to: she was looking at the cards and I saw the two of hearts, and two choices for her: the world, or the fool, and I thought the cards said she should pursue the new relationship that was forming in front of her (which was us) and the world would come to her, or she was a fucking idiot and would fall of the edge of the world. I don't remember what I told her, not that, not what I thought, which turned out to be true in all respects, in every respect, um, but this is why...

***tho not exactly true because later in another part of the world i read for someone i thought was kinda hot, and it turned out to be right, and there was nothing like the choice between being in love or being an idiot, not for her, but oh this got confusing and I shouldn't talk about this here...

I am discrete

there's a lot more to this but right now i have to play a board game with bored Elli...i have no sustained concentration this year...

but I love that child, so what can I do?

I will post pictures of my thumb soon, but not of my face, not until next month...only the beloved ones get images and that's not here, and not her, the her that is beloved is one and she is there so very much there, and so much not here...

Um, new font for a new president. While I was self-absorbed, there was an event, an event that happened, events happening all the time, that's what events do, but this one, this event.

Was not about the thumb, and for now, here's how things worked out with the thumb>>>

On May 6th, 2007, one week after my head was marked for Obatala (I have a feeling not everyone will know what that means-- THIS IS THE SPACE WHICH I WILL FILL IN ), I was wondering about some things that were up for discretion and not discussion and wondering wondering, and although I had been marked, and with the idea that I am of that part of the clan where we need to pay more attention because we are prone to accidents, I was witness to an act whereupon a chain of a running motorcycle, being cleaned by the party of the first part (I or me), not turning it off before cleaning it but rather running it intentionally and running the chain through my thumb and index finger of the left hand, with a sock on said hand, sawed the thumb get caught up in things (as I tend to do) and went far far away from the end of my hand and to parts unknown. The two guys who lived in my apartment complex (both named John, as I recall), told me later they found the tip of this thumb but in too many diverse geographical locations to be something worth collecting, which means in Mayan cosmology I would have this as a sick part of my soul needing to be collected on the hour of my death (and I am not Mayan, but then again this is probably radically inaccurate). And so, this is how I came to lose that part.

And it took a long time to heal, and in fact took so long that the surgeon sent me to a pain doctor, who prescribed mild painkillers until it was decided (by him) that I was no longer in pain. It was less, for sure, but not gone. This would have been March or April of this year. So, well into my Yaworaje. And in March or was it April (section deleted for continuity)...and yes for the rest of my life, but who knows why things happen the way they do, and especially why twice (except for the blood).

And then in October it would be, October 8th from my medical records, I was learning how to pluck with my left hand, and suddenly felt the pain return like it had before, like it had from May-March approximately, won't you come see me queen jane)...and I saw my doctor, who told me it was nerve pain, and it continued to hurt but only exactly like before only much much worse, and I saw her again, and she was actually angry that I was bothering her, and said, we've already talked about this, what's the problem, and I said, it's pain it's continuing pain what the hell do you want me to say it's pain, give me darvocet,

And she did and she thought it a good idea to go back to the surgeon, and she was still angry at me, for reasons i do not understand, but think perhaps switching doctors is not unreasonable, or moving to Europe where there is medical care, um...

This is longer than I intended, and impossible to complete, but this is the start of something longer, I guess.

The short version now is: shorter thumb, the surgeon amputated more bone, and it's skinnier at the tip, and I think a little more elegant, a little more sleek, and the new pain doctor, when I asked her about the results of the addiction screening where I spoke with a psychologist who looked like a cross between John Cage and George Bush (the younger, the shoeheaded dethroned fucktack), asked me , why, are you concerned? are you doing anything weird? you're not poppin 8 of em at a time are ya? Which i take as a clean bill of mental health, at least as far as wondering if I were in fact creating this pain in my mind. Glad to know I am not. But tonight, tonight, tonight I really wanted to talk about something else, but this will have to live under my tongue, it's double-tongued, and watches, and I think this would be lovely already if it were not so lovely, and this is the truest part of this part which is one part of a longer part, but the longer part also has her written in its sleeve and that's also true...

MANIFESTO OF CROSSED ONTOLOGIES Everybody (and by everybody I don ’ t mean everybody I think I mean one person, and I mean you, in par...