Archive for July, 2014

buenos días

July 30, 2014

i think the best way to sum up my goodbye to this place is with banana pineapple songs.
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there’s so many pictures i want to share with you but i have to pace myself. two mornings ago there was a 6.4 earthquake and i crawled on the ground and covered my head and all the dogs on roofs were barking. i went outside and there were other people in their underwear, too. i thought of kids in gaza and couldn’t fall back asleep. stephanie gonot (stephanie gonot)

Kuba-Ryniewicz-04 (kuba ryniewicz)
last night there were dancers from chihuahua in the plaza and it was so odd to see cowboy boots and hats and full skirts after so many weeks of tropical embroidered garb. but i liked the way they kicked their heels -yeehaw!
nadinecordial-08 (nadine cordial)

veneno de serpiente

July 28, 2014

frances frances, i want a pb&j or a bl&t
RV-AI309_BKRV_K_G_20121005014659“i killed the party again
i ruined it for my friends”

“i feel like going homerobert henri (robert henri)
but at the same time, i don’t”
http://www.existentialmaps.tumblr.com is making its come back… if you’re in the mood to read

July 24, 2014

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Seth Casteel seth casteel took the coolest pictures of babies learning to swim… these two are only 11 months old! PS: bearded man, ye! my bearded man, how i miss you and the mattress we slept on in puerto rico after drinking estrella galicias on the rooftop, remember that? and we walked on the beach and the sunset was too good and we had a rented car all our own to listen to enrique iglesias and reggaeton in the mornings while we drove to coves and rainforests Valeriya Rokhlina (valeriya rokhlina). i want to drive on highway 5 from alaska, where it starts, to the southern tip of south america. petermatyasi (peter matyasi)

mirando el fút

July 21, 2014

barbara crane-105 (barbara crane) imagebrandt 2 (matthew brandt) Watching boys play soccer is always enough to make me reconsider living in New York. The swiftness, the way these men can scale up walls and tumble and shout and quick, quick, quick! The sun is setting, so pink, how typical, how utterly gorgeous. And the church bells ring and the teams shake hands and they send the young ones to go fetch four liters of Coke and they come back with styrofoam cups too, they remembered. Peanuts? Amado bought a couple bags and now all there is to do is lean against the limestone wall and gulp and breathe and, good game, good game. What a good game it was to watch. I desired them all because of the way the blue and yellow and orange lights flickered in the mountains and that nighttime view reminded me of every place I’ve ever loved, on the coast and in the mountains.aurel schmidt melon nip (aurel schmidt)ren hang (ren hang) ate a lot of taquitos today, and salty peanuts. feeling a positive melancoly

pendejito

July 19, 2014

i tell everyone i have a husband.betsy schneider (betsy schneider).
girls from chiapas with thick black skirts, boys from monterrey with thin red tattoos.joanliftin2 (joan liftin)brigittegrignet (brigitte grignet)

July 16, 2014

i’m telling you guys, from the bangs to the moomin imagery to the smart cars and the lonely cloud, yung lean is fresh

henk helmantel(henk helmantel) people showed off images of their food and lifestyle since always. i’m doing that too by telling you i’m watching a hummingbird hovering over a bird of paradise. i went to a spooky, dust cemetery two days ago right before it started to pour. i was the only person there besides a handful of men with wheelbarrows. in the glass encasements that stand like bungalows over graves, there are portraits, photos, plastic decorations with bubbly letters, and mops and windex to keep it clean and clear and shining. peeling angels and jesuses are all around. augustus leopold egg the travelling companions(augustus leopold) feeling classical

learning things

July 13, 2014

i finished my cellphone photography workshop!
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There were battles and duels here, hangings, weddings, and before then, healing rituals and gathering and art that derives from a spiritual, balance-full relationship with nature, the soil, the cactus, sun and tree syrup.
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I watch kids practice their dance for the Guelaguetza, trotting in circles and spinning, and I think of the folkloric dances I know so well in Galicia. But these are different, these don’t have bagpipes but drums, and these aren’t my own dances. Being a lone spectator is lonely.
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The sensation of loss and infinite possibility is around me. This is a place that as a history so rich and varied: lime stoned streets, Dominican churches, huge cloud formations, ironwork on the windows, chingones and cabronas.
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This little girl, 5 or 6, malnourished with orange stains on her shirt and loose teeth approached me on the steps of the Santo Domingo church. She asked me Chicle? I said No, Thankyou and she said Anda, Señora, don’t you have some pesitos for me? Buy some chicle or a chocolate bar. Buy me an elote? She had the mannerisms of a grown woman and was squirting anti bacterial all over her hands and arms as she spoke. I gave her two pesos and a yellow rose a passerby had given me (it’s for free! I just want to make people smile, do little nothings that make someone’s day!, the man had said). She was suspicious of the rose, “Take it! It’s a pretty flower, you can put it in your hair or in your basket.” “It pricks.” I took the thorns off and handed it back to her. “I’m going to destroy it.” “Don’t! A very sweet boy gave it to me!” “Your husband?” “Yes!” She looked at me and proceeded to take off each petal, delicately, and then in chunks. She through the fistfuls of petals at my face. I took the blows.

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I bought mole tamales from an older woman. She seemed so old I don’t know how she was standing. I asked if I could take a picture of her in her makeshift booth (plastic table, spices, an array of cookeware), expecting a blatant No, which is okay, because I’m still figuring it out how and when and why it’s okay to take pictures of strangers. I was surprised by her “Si, si!” and she proceeded to pose like a pin-up, holdling up a tamale.

July 9, 2014

In the midmorning we stopped in this little town and everyone was getting out of mass. We went into the Dominican church there and these women were selling tamales and atole on the steps of the entrance. The tamales were of pollo con mole, and they were somehow both light, with a lovely fluffy corn texture, while still being rich and full of flavor. that was the best mid-morning snack I’ve ever had. Then we drank bowls of atole de panela, a sweetish corn drink, like corn porridge meets horchata, while sitting on the grass. hearty, warming the soul, colorful streamers hanging from church top to trees.
euniceadorno (eunice adorno, menonites in northern mexico)
I like seeing all the peluquerías and barbershops, where all sorts of things are being done, aside from cutting hair. Watching the soccer game and the telenovela predominate, but there’s also petting dogs, braiding hair, putting on makeup, gossiping, flirting. The walls are papered with photos of gelled haircuts.
eunice flower women menonite (more eunice)

In Huatla de Jimenez, magical mushrooms are part of the ancient culture. “Child saints,” or “holy children,” guide the hallucinations. This is what Maria Sabina, one of the ancient and most well known shaman women would chant in her guiding trance:
Because I can swim in the immense
Because I can swim in all forms
Because I am the launch woman
Because I am the sacred opposum
Because I am the Lord opposum
tumblr_m3o6muH1cJ1qiqll2o1_500 (someone told me a couple days that the reason frida was an innovative woman was because she married a fat, abusive [albeit artistic] asshole. why is that a point of admiration?)

I went to the Abastos market…I saw that it took up a bit splotch on the map, but I wasn’t expecting the maze of everything. There really was every object under the sun and the sounds were deafening, if deafening had positive connotations. There were turkeys and caged puppies, mangos, jicama, snakes, knifes and dining tables, woven baskets, lingerie, walls of pirated DVDs, pottery, barrels of cocoa beans, ground up with almonds and chile, towers of papaya and leaning pisa’s of queso oaxaqueño, curtains of tripe. There were babies everywhere and the constant sing song of prices being listed. Tomatillos, avocados. I bought a bagful of things for 40 cents

it’s okay to say cabrón here

July 4, 2014

and chingón, which sounds dirty to me.

I bought an avocado from a market woman half my height and 5 times my age and I didn’t have enough pesitos. It’s okay, take it, but come back with what you owe me. I went home and ate the avocado and felt lazy and greedy and didn’t go back. I instantly got the worst stomach ache and rolled around like a worm on my bed while my computer crashed. It didn’t turn on until I returned the 2 pesitos to her today. Don’t fuck with the locals!
rius (flatulence in g minor, drawn by rius)
I’ve been snacking on pan dulce so I’m getting that glow of tan and rotund.
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I turned a corner on a cobbled street and all of a sudden there was a parade with trumpets and trombones and women spinning with enormous skirts and baskets with flowers in their hair! What a sight! iI was a delight to watch all the little toddlers run around. Celebrations are universal! It started to rain and the women span with more fervor and the kids shrieked in delight. A hallucination that reminded me of every town’s local parties.

i’ll start writing about oaxaca

July 3, 2014

first, the ZOCALO, the central square:
-two women with pink and blue palm trees of cotton candy bunches chew the fat. they sell a turquoise poof to a little boy and it comes with a sticky toy, a little sticky monkey, that you can fling on walls and at the limbs of other children. “viene con un monito que se pega!” a good selling point for cotton candy.
-women also sell cylindrical foil balloons, the funnest of games. you can project these up into the air and watch them float down, use them like swords, bonk your friends, send them flying. They look like soft wrapping paper tubes.
-the baskets of goods balanced on women’s heads will never cease to tingle my inner child. maybe it goes back to watching the jungle book, picking my nose, as a 4-year old, or maybe to the games of pretending to be a runway model like on the reality tv shows. inside the baskets are potato chips or plastic wind-up toys.
claudiahans (claudia hans)

the food:
three crunchy tacos are served with four salsas, i forgot about that. my favorite is the creamy green one. every thing i’ve eaten since i got here doesn’t come up to more than $6. the avocados are 20 cents and i eat them as i walk.
-my breakfast consists of half a papaya with pineapple, tea, and then huevos oaxaquenos, which means they are escrambel with chiles and tomatoes and onion. the cook is named graciela and i think that’s a great name. every graciela i’ve met has been somehow saintly.
-the market still has high piles of fried grasshopers, like I remembered, and various ice-cream-like tubs of mole that are scooped out and pressed into containers to take home (and use to braise chicken thighs with).
Miel y Sandia
and there are smushed mangos on all the cobble stoned streets because they fall off the trees and colored birds and frogs eat them, and loud motorcycles with pudgy couples run over them.
every corner has a couple making out. Why not hold hands and squeeze hips with wandering fingers at every chance? that’s how the oaxaqueños do it.
the parrots squawk and i hear the chirpies and tweeties of frogs and birds all day, mosquito bites.
the cordiality of the locals is shocking. the glances men shoot aren’t at all subtle, but the softness of those in any somewhat servantile position is striking. “Mande usted,” “Estoy a su servicio” for merely stepping into a pharmacy, i feel like a dictator. i need to learn to say these phrases.

every afternoon a thunderstorm rolls in, i am told and i witness. a green parrot is staring at me. there are about 100 workshops i want to attend in the oaxaca center, this is an artistic civilization. from cardboard-camera-making, to cellphone photography, to sculpture of the nude. i have to get to work.
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