Second Study

​blocking the shadows, quick study with a marker.

Un camino de flores…

Trabajando en este collage para Don Ricardo. Le voy a llamar: “Un camino de Flores” basado en el sueño que tuve con el. 

Hoy alguien subió una foto de él, cuando estaba mucho más joven, quizás mi edad. Senti rarísimo referirme a él como “Don”; pero es lo que lo separa del Hijo. Una clara distinción. 

Estoy todavía batallando con el collage, pero creo que ya casi.. ya casi. 

Llegue al estudio, un cielo estrellado hermoso. Me quedé contemplando por un rato. Al salir, una luna súper dorada, súper brillante, llena!! Noche maravillosa! 

quick light and shadow study

quick sketch de sombras para la nueva pintura. Aprender como moverse más rápidamente, concentrarse menos en los detalles y más en la expresión, en el contraste de luz y sombras. 

Wuthering Heights

​A society at the height of its withering. 

Emily Brontë, illustrates an ill society, ill with their aristocracy, obsessed with their rigid social hierarchy. 

They have isolated from the rest, in way to preserve their status as nobles. By doing so, they have trapped themselves in their own prison. Breathing each other’s illness. They are fragile, the kids are weak and sick, and they die fast. 

On the contrary, the servants, the class they treat like animals, becomes robust. Hartenton grows up to be a healthy, vigorous young man. 

Emily, makes a point of using Name and Last Name to remind us of their presumed superiority, while the servants only have a name. 

Emily makes a subtle Christian allusion that was invisible to me until yesterday;

Nelly becomes the mother of Hartenton; later, when he goes to live at WH, Joseph becomes his father. 

Joseph, a clear reference. He is the only devoted christian. He doesn’t teach H how to read or write, as commanded by Heathcliff; but he teaches him his christianity and how to sustain himself, and do things around the house. 

Emily keeps H in the back, we just know that he is ignorant and badly treated. Yet he is the only character in the book that goes through a self-transformation. He carries with the burden of his family, much like a Jesus. In spite of the abuse, He improves himself, learn how to read and write, motivated by the love of Cathy. 

All the others die from their illness; he remains. 

A lot more levels of this novel became visible after discussing the book with some people last night. Very well read academic people. The more I think about it the more I appreciate Wuthering Heights. 

Los del hielo

-es que no puedo ir! - Aracely, en la otra línea con la voz entrecortada. 

-como? te pasó algo? , le preguntó asustada. 

-No, no, es que aquí andan los del ice. Y me da miedo que me cojan por mi niño. 

Los del Ice, los agents del hielo. La enfermedad que Emily señala en su novela. La metafora de que la sociedad, entre mas fría y deshumanizada, mas se vuelven hielo. Frágiles.

En cambio, las sociedades que rechazan, golpean, maltratan, y siguen maltratando, se vuelve cada vez más y más robusta. 

Hay que ponerle atención a las hormigas. Ponerle atención a los más chiquitos. 

Aracely, es una hormiga,  en la metáfora de mi sueño. Una hormiga bajo la amenaza de la gente más grande, los fríos, la gente del hielo.  

El único otro hielo, que está arriba de ellos, es el hielo del cielo.  

Sueños

​I am walking around the house, is dark there are no lights. I see this guy Lalo walking around. I see his tall shadow. At this point is like he is my partner? 

I walked across the kitchen, also in the dark, when I heard someone say hello. In on corner in the darkness, I see Bill Grindell, sitting down. He smiles and says hello! I get surprised, and say hello, he says hello back with his hand. I want to ask what is he doing here, but I can distract myself, I am going to the back of the house, there is something I need to do. 

He understands I am busy, and gestures for me to continue. 

I walk towards the back of the house, and outside there is some sort of room. 

I said sort of, because is not exactly a room. The walls are made of stuff put on top of each other mixed with some cardboard. 

There is a window, I saw a car driving by, I heard a noise. I looked and see that the car just hit a tree. I don’t see the car, just the tree on the floor. I looked through another window, to see if something happened, if someone is injured, but when I looked there are cars, and people acting  like nothing happened, is some sort of school graduation or event. 

I continued doing what I was supposed to do. I started breaking the ceiling of the room, a mix of cardboard with some metal sheets. When suddenly I made a hole, and I pulled my self out. 

Get half of my body out, and realize I am floating in space! There is darkness filled with stars all around me. As if I am in a spaceship. Is so amazingly beautiful, the stars are sparkling different colors. I fall backwards in amazement! I feel this overwhelming sensation in my chest, I bit frightened too. I contemplate for a bit. From below, I hear the voice of someone, having a conversation. Is like a podcast, they are talking about Ants. 

I hear what they are saying and is making a lot of sense, with what is happening to me at the moment. 

I hear something like: “you have to pay attention to the ants, and think like an ant” - As I am listening the sky started to move, or the house, don’t know. Is started to get darker and darker.  

I came back down, slowly. 

Down below, I see S, who had two glasses filled with beer in his hands. 

“Is for you know who!” he says, I understand he means Bill. He is about to go when suddenly he remembered something, and handed me several long and skinny pieces of glass. I said “what is this for?” - “I don’t know, You asked for it” he said. 

I can’t remember why I needed them. I know is related to what I just did or witnessed outside. “I can’t remember. It will comeback to me, let’s leave them here for now” I said. 

Notes for Richmond district series

Just read that the Richmond District was originally a village that belonged to the Ohlone tribe. They were displaced by the Spanish. The spaniards literally told them they couldn’t live where they had always lived, and kicked them out. 

That the Richmond is named after some immigrant Australian rich art dealer, who called his mansion here The Richmond House after his home village in Australia. 

That the legal name of the Richmond was: Park Presidio District but people kept calling it the Richmond, so the name remained and eventually they made the official change to The Richmond District, just a few years ago. 
Also learned that most of the Richmond streets, are named after explorers, mayors, attorneys, basically wealthy white men. Not even Semantically there is a connection the original tribe. They took over the land and by renaming it after themselves, also managed to displace the natives, for our memories. 
Well, there is nothing romantic about The Richmond district, in terms of the history, I will have to sit on this one for a while, and see how this new knowledge might impact the series...
I find it interesting, yesterday, while taking care of the plants in the balcony, I saw a mass of people in bikes, protesting ICE...from time to time, one would yell: Fuck Ice!.... right in front of me! right on the same village that once belonged to the natives, and was displaced by other white man. 
How many of them are aware of this? 
This knowledge I think lives deep in the collective subconscious, like an invisible weight. On the surface, they are fighting the current events (Trump) and an external enemy (the ilegal immigrant); but deep deep down, they are fighting themselves, for something way, way older, that keeps repeating and resurfacing, no matter how much they protest o try to stop it. 
Putting up a sign, yelling “Fuck ICE!”, protesting, then posting it all over social media, making sure the world knows, it relieves some of that weight. 
Wealthy, greedy white men are 'the ice', Trump is the physical manifestation of all of them. They raped the natives of America with their cold capitalist system,  "get rich, then richer"  ejaculating their cold sperm all over the land, out of pure ego, rather than love. They managed to make money and accumulating wealth became the only accepted way of living.  The indigenous way, a connection to the land and the cosmos was dismissed as unnecessary, when, in truth, it is the opposite. This is "THE ICE" that has been falling on America for centuries.