Message to a recurrent nightmare

(Read while listening to: Relax with wind chimes)

1890

(Read while listening to: Vals Poetico by Felipe Villanueva)









Regresa el tiempo y si no puedes, pídele entonces que me lleve con él.
Dile que me deje estar en un espacio sin tecnología,
sin red, sin celulares,
un lugar a la luz de las velas.

Dile que me conecte a través de cartas,
de miradas y secretos en salones.

Dile que extraño escuchar música sólo como un raro accidente,
cuando toco el piano en una tertulia
o cuando asisto al Teatro de la Ciudad a alguna ópera.

Dile que me lleve a la ciudad con 2 millones de habitantes,
a la primera gala de Bellas Artes, recién inaugurada.

Dile que extraño enamorarme de lejos
y en silencio.
Dile que extraño la formalidad.

Suplícale que me lleve,
con toda tu fuerza.

Ojalá revivieras, mi General Porfirio Díaz...



Fotografía: Otto Fernandez de Castro.
Vestido mamey: Marvin y Quetzal.


Translation:

Turn back time and if you can't do that, then please ask time to take me with him.
Ask him to let me be in a place where technology does not exist,
nor does the net, or cell phones.
A candlelit place.

Tell him to connect me through letters,
through glances and secrets shared in ballrooms.

Tell him I miss listening to music just as a rare accident,
whenever I play the piano for friends,
or when I assist to the City Theatre to watch the opera.

Tell him to take me to Mexico city when it only had a population of 2 millions,
to the first gala at Bellas Artes museum, recently opened.

Tell him I miss falling in love for someone who is far away
and in a silent manner.
Tell him I miss formality.

Please, beg him to take me,
do it with all your heart.

I wish you could come to life, my dearest General Porfirio Díaz.



Photo bye: Otto Fernandez de Castro.
Orange dress by: Marvin and Quetzal.

Verde Clorofila

(Read while listening to: Whispering Wind by Moby)

Quiero ser orgánica y perderme entre el verde,

ser el oxígeno que inhalo... bióxido de carbono, exhalado.


Uno...

dos...

Ser sólo tierra... agua, átomos y células.
Simbiótica, biológica y fotosintética.

Quiero ser de enredaderas...

de tierra, de agua y madera.

Yo soy la naturaleza.

Vivir de sol.

Agua en las venas...

Hoy soy.

Absolutamente muda


y quieta
observando.

Verde hoja,

planta

enraizada.

Soy el verde clorofila.






Translation:

I long to be organic and lose myself in the green,
be the oxygen I inhale... carbon dioxide exhaled.
One...
two...
Be nothing more than soil... water, atoms and cells.
Siymbiotic, biologic and photosynthetic.
I long to be a climbing plant,
of soil, water and wood.
I am nature.
Live on sunlight.
Water running through my veins...
Today I am.
Absolutely mute
and still
observing.
Leaf green,
plant
rooted.
I am chlorophyll green.

Sky is not the limit

(Read while listening to: Serenade for the Winds by Mozart)

Most of the time lately I feel like I don't belong down here on Earth.
And so, I feel lucky whenever I get to fly... to feel closer to the ethereal reality that floats above all our material tribulations.

Too bad I just get a little window to look at such a wide open space. To contemplate perfection.


And even worse that I have to land.