octubre 23, 2011

Drifting off

I don’t mean to expand too much on this but it’s plain to see that when something’s ‘going on’ within me I tend to drift off and indulging into trivial stuff like spending time looking at my old records or books, specially when coming to my parents house as walls have some of my stuff and there’s all my past stash of whatever I used to build my personality with. Same with eating more as there’s just a vastness of everything which I don’t usually have so, I have to moderate that.


But also in terms of sleeping and other seemingly ‘unimportant’ events, like because I was completely alone leaving my bed undone, that’s like an actual indication of uh oh there is something going on. Same with falling asleep at times and then ending up wasting my time or whatever it is to waste your time.


So I forgive my self that I have accepted and allowed myself for dragging this long tail of ‘moments lost’ while I indulged into some form of diversion from what is here to get done.

See, having responsibilities is something that changes your life and I’m glad I have them but sometimes my free-willer vein shows up and I end up just wanting to form these ‘fleeting moments’ for myself wherein I can apparently ‘do stuff that I want to do’ as if I was chained or limited by something or someone – I’m not, it’s only myself and the policeman in the head doing that.


I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to still hold on to this ‘free will’ side of myself wherein I’d like to be ‘doing that which I used to do’ which was painting, music, going out for endless chats with people about life and death and pretending to be ‘getting somewhere’ within that. So, I still can do that yet there’s an obvious sense of self responsibility that can’t simply be scratched off now, so that’s how one’s life changes from that perspective. I’m glad though because I’ve given my self a purpose to live and if it wasn’t for this, fuck knows where and what I’d be doing.

Part of the cool things of writing ourselves to freedom is that I can publish it for the sake of leaving the stuff out of my head into words and open for the world to see because it is only through doing this that it loses its secret-mind attribute and I expose myself for what I tend to indulge in at times which ranges from news on the tv and music… either concerts, interviews etc.  Though all of it is just part of how I create a moment to divert my attention on purpose which I consider is also required.

I went downtown yesterday and I perceived I saw an old friend, well he was my ‘best friend’ for some years to the point of spending our entire weekends together talking about depression while flirting with suicidal thoughts. He was sitting on a bench, writing as always and I just passed on by. I mean this says it all with regards to how people in our past, those ‘blood brothers’ that we thought we were and would remain together for the remainder of our lives become nothing else but people that we pass on by without saying hi or anything because there is nothing to speak about – past is dead and we move on. I had no further reactions to it. As time progress I see that all the emotional attachment is able to be shed off and thus we remain and exist in a lighter version of ourselves, not having to drag our personal history around to have a sense of ‘who we are’.

I observed how people ‘have fun’ and it’s all related to an experience. It’s interesting but once we realize such experiences I can  have my experience of the day just going outside for a walk and enjoying looking at the birds and breathing the fresh air while watching the tonalities that this particular season creates on the trees and plants. I know I have kept these images as this vault in my head that kind of pops up whenever the mind wants some attention. When I wasn’t here such images of me walking in this place would come up and so I realized how much we’ve formed ourselves around places and images and even seasons and the experience thereof.


So I can say I see my life as pretty plain and yes this is a line by Blind Melon in that no rain song. I realize it won’t always be this way but it doesn’t bother me either. I’m even more ‘secluded’ when in Mexico city as I only move around a certain area of the place I live in, it doesn’t’ bother me either, I enjoy the familiarity created around that area even if it’s not the nicest area to live in.


It’s kind of hard letting go of the comfort and luxuries here in this house, but I’ve seen how it only takes a day or two to get used to the other place – really, that’s how the mind works and so, I rather focus on the physical reality, focus on what I have to get done because otherwise I drift away too much without actually directing myself effectively which then compounds as this build ups of frustrations and self-irritation that I obviously have created.


Letting go of this world that song was made by some faithfully deceived but I got it from bernard once in our mail and I got stuck to it for the simplicity and amateur taste to it, such a simple tune and mostly focusing on the title, let go of everything that is here, that’s basically what we’ve learned at Desteni and it’s fascinating how after all of these years, my mind still drifts off into the same bs wherein I end up making some type of artistic moment of it. Maybe I simply shouldn’t judge it, call it contemplation or waste of time but I probably also require to give myself some time to just stop being ‘doing something’ all the time which is my usual way of existing… when not drifting off of course lol.


Okay. So – this is it. I enjoyed coming here and getting out of the usual routine as well as using a big screen as monitor lol oh and listening to music and playing some guitar.

That was the weekend.

octubre 22, 2011

Secret meaning behind things

Fact is there is one painting that I haven’t published on the internet yet it hangs on the stairs’ wall of my parents house where I’m currently in taking care of moka and shakti while my parents are out.
I had deemed this as a condescending painting wherein I tried to use bright colors for the sake of doing something ‘cheerful’ to hand in such a visible spot.
Instead, I ended up creating a semi-abstract painting that I could call ‘the fall of man. There is indeed a man hanging upside down and the entire construction of space and time defined by a sphere-like object with the infinity symbol trapped in a vertical way, almost like one of those sand clocks that will eventually run out of grains to keep the track of time.
There’s a human character, someone that just appeared there with a very prominent chin – fuck knows I mean maybe courbet’s beard on his goodmorning monsier Courbet painting inspired such deformity. Anyways – the point is… there’s a hand as well, it was supposed to be a nice painting with something nice to say: it didn’t happen.
This is only one of several examples of how I tried ‘my work’ to be cheerful and eventually ending up with some twisted message along the brightness of such lines.
Does this matter in any way to ‘who I am’ – other than a personality definition of being bleak, no. It only reveals how within art and my expression I haven’t been able to kid myself as easily as I do in real life. I cannot paint shit that I will later realize I was only high on a pipe dream – whenever I did that, it was mostly related to some form of spiritual greatness but never ending on a false sense of ‘glee’. Even an open painting I made of someone smiling decorated the walls of my friends’ wall, a self destructive, self obsessed and depressed man that certainly reflected me back to myself which is how we became friends In the first place. I had painted that happy face withholding thoughts of some ‘bright future’ with someone.
You should see my bookshelf, I just reviewed it this morning. Maybe it’s because my parents don’t know English and trusted me enough to be mature enough to read all of that, but I would’ve taken my son/ daughter to have some pro-chat to investigate such preferences for books – one can only read the titles to get an idea of what I was all about back in the day.
I was shaped by music, books and a great sense of humor from my parents.
Oddly enough I could not seem to conciliate my apparent ‘stability’ when crossreferencing it with the reality that I saw. There was something wrong going on.

This is only but an observation amongst the entire woven patterns as the person I call myself. I am not any of that and giving it all good riddance is for the sake of my own self-realization devoid of any memories, any preferences, any fixations, any personal trivial data that I have cherished as if it had any meaning, including this blog wherein for some reason I am not trying to be talking to someone specifically other than myself, writing the same way I would write to myself in my handwritten diary  - although this will go out ‘in the open’ No problem on that as I cannot fear or want things to be another way. Principles over preferences.
Secret meaning is: there is NO secret meaning, there are only patterns we have to eradicate as 'who we are' to end-this-lie and actually live and express here. 

octubre 13, 2011

First 10 years of my life

I was born in a central city of México, 2 hours away from México City – a city that was founded early on in the colonial stages of Mexico –great baroque architecture downtown yet grew up in a ‘then’ relative new areas in the south of the city across from the state’s university.

I was born into a family of 4 already – I’m the youngest of three daughters to a relative young marriage – my mother was only 30 when she had me – and at the moment, I can only go as far back as 3 years old of age.

I was a happy spoiled child, I had all the attention from my sisters and parents – I had what one could consider a happy early childhood as I’d enjoy being at home just playing with dolls and having fun with my ‘nanny’ who was the girl that would also help with the general household. She was quite young and we had lots of fun that I remember, she was really brave when coming to the toilette and I’d ask her to please clean me. Lol.

I grew up listening to lost of music as my father is quite the music lover, my sisters would love to also sing and dance to their favorite pop singers’ songs and my parents would record it all –we’ve got lots of tapes of them singing and dancing and somewhere around there, there’s marlen walking around wanting to hold the mic as well. 

I do remember more that at the age of 3 I already had a favorite artist, that as your typical sexy-rebel woman that everyone would deem as a bit crazy, she’d wear these fantastic skirts that would flow as she danced, she was quite ferocious – still is as far as I know after all of these years. Let’s say she was a softer nicer mexican version of what Courtney love once was. Anyhow – I’d play around being ‘her’ and so my mother would make skirts for me so I could dance around and sing along and be recorded. My sisters and I would pretend to have our own ‘show’ wherein each one would pretend being their favorite artist. For fucks sake, I’d even take my idol’s name and use it instead of mine whenever people would ask me ‘what’s your name’.

Not so long ago I went to visit my parents and we were remembering how we once went to a fun park to Mexico City and they were carrying me around in this trolley type of car for kids. Though because I always had this desire to be a grown up and being older and  an ‘old girl’, I asked my mother to take me down from the cart because I wanted to drive it. So she did and at some point, I just continued walking thinking my parents were behind me, but they had stopped at some point to eat something and forgot about me. I eventually got lost in there in between all the people and to not make the story that long, they found me after a while in the center of a group of people – security people from the fun park were actually calling for my parents, but I had used one of my favorite artists’ name so I didn’t use the name marlen and so my parents didn’t have a clue people had actually found me. When I saw my parents I was extremely angry at them for ‘having left me’ without realizing that I had been the stubborn one in wanting to ‘drive the trolley’ instead of me being driven by my parents. So, yeah I hit them out of anger, I was so extremely pissed off an it lasted for a while even if they tried to comfort me with stuff. I was a real spoiled brat.

I was an unusual kid because I wanted to go to school before time. Well, my mother only took me to kindergarten when I was 4 so that was fair enough to begin school. I remember the first day of school, everyone cried when their parents left except me – I saw everyone just crying out loud and I played strong and held it even though I did want to cry just because I saw everyone crying probably, such an awkward moment but that was it. I remember being a very serious and quiet girl. Teachers loved me because I was so well behaved – this is mostly due to having being educated by my father and mother with ‘good manners’ and basically always being tidy and nicely dressed and all. I remember the first time I was scolded at school, it was 2nd grade of kindergarten and that was because I took some scissors and cut off bits of some guy’s hair lol. For some reason going to the hairdresser was one of those experiences I remember very well as a kid, and also because my nanny knew how to do it so it all fascinated me somehow, that’s how it was so ‘easy’ for me to grab the scissors and follow the moves I had seen from people cutting hair – but this boy started crying and so they scolded me.

I remember learning english and how I went learning, it was something extremely enjoyable. I said I was an odd girl because I would cry when I didn’t go to school. I would not want to miss classes or something ‘important’ – lol this was kindergarten for fucks sake.

For the most part I remember being attracted to some kids at that age as well. There was this skinny ill looking boy that I liked – then someone told me he liked me too which then made me want to run away lol, he once gave me a lipstick and some teddy bear thingy for christmas, I was so embarrassed I didn’t know what to do – but for the most part I feared such relationships, I couldn’t fathom kids having boyfriends and such. There was a guy that was the typical blue eye blond boy that all girls liked – he apparently liked me but I didn’t, I didn’t like the cute guys and I’d instead play with these kids that were mostly troublesome. I liked a kid from new york, he was like some 3 years older than us and he was placed in pre-school to learn spanish. His parents were divorcing and he was going through a rough time. Somehow I remember understanding his conversations in english with teacher or at least imagine what he was nagging about back then. Seems his emotional state left an imprint as he’d just suddenly start crying and then he’d be just laughing the next moment. I’d play some with him. I’d also play with another friend with barbie dolls. He enjoyed taking the dolls clothes for the most part which I found hilarious, though our teacher didn’t like that – I found it awesome that he could play a girl’s game without fearing being called a sissy or something.

He then left to Germany and we kept some letter exchanges, lol he’d sent a letter from there saying ‘how was Halloween there? Happy chirstmas’ and his signature with some dinosaur stamp. Lol, quite funny. He then came back for a couple of years and was quite the rebellious type, imagine having lived in Europe and then coming to old-fashioned mexico in one of the most conservative cities in the country – nah. He was a ‘badass’ for having some traces of long hair on his back. Anyways.

I was the ‘perfect student’, I was always getting great grades and being praised by teachers, earning diplomas in every single school ceremony at the end of school years and whatnot. This as much as would’ve seem something cool was rather a hard time for me – not so much for being called a ‘nerd’ but because of how my ‘friends’ would turn their back on me for being praised by teachers and such. I loathed that, I disliked it so much to be named and placed as an example to follow. It created a great amount of pressure on me at that young age. I’d actually be a very nervous kid, I’d have a lot of anxiety for this, always wanting to ‘keep up’ to the expectations of teachers, to keep that ‘place’ at school. It was a great school I must say, not so many children, bilingual school and teachers had worked in a german school so it was basically with that influence minus the german. Very strict, lots of cleanliness, discipline, reading habits, almost personalized attention. I mean, I got to be in a class of 7 people at some point – it was that small and that’s not because it was a ‘priviledge’ but because everyone mostly ran away from such school  - they deemed it as way too strict and small for a normal development – that to a certain extent was true, yet I had fun being with the same classmates through primary schools.

The points that I’d ‘suffer’ about was being backstabbed by my so-called best friends, I’d cry a lot for that and my mother would be all worried to see me crying and so sad because I was basically rejected at times for being a smartass or a brain and some other kids simply wanted to ‘beat me’ in ‘honor placements’ which is they wanted to be first place which kept me in the lines of being envied and with such pressure to ‘keep up to that expectation’ – I was only 7 years old then, imagine that.

To me at that point being alone during recess was such a torture, I’d be really sad and wanting to cry all the time when I’d see the girls in my class gathering to eat lunch and I’d have to sit alone somewhere else and whenever I’d attempt to just join them, they would ignore me. This somehow was something that didn’t last all the time. I later on got along with them again as there weren’t that many girls in our class anyways so, I went through the entire ‘best friend’ era which also ended in a rough time after several years – that’s another story. I do remember her father was a german man that I’d be oddly afraid of yet kind of attracted to lol, I think he even got to know of this between joke and joke but anyways.

I was a responsible kid, I would always make my homework, my mother never had to push me to do it, I’d always do it by myself, she’d just have to sign them to say ‘I made them’ but she never really  had to sit next to me to make me do it. My mother was cool support when I’d get really insecure and nervous about the entire friends and school scenario, I feared making mistakes. Lol I once had a nervous breakdown while having mental calculus at school, I lost track of it all and got so anxious that I just started crying in front of the class, such an embarrassing moment – I have written this before and self forgiven this amount of pressure and self inflicted standards. My mother would always tell me ‘I could do it, I knew the stuff so I sholdn’t worry’ and I did, I was just over concerned at times even though it would always turn out well somehow.

Part of the odd parts at that time is when at age 7 I got cable tv – I had already been watching some music videos aired at 4 pm on some incipient national tv channel, though it was in 1994 that MTV Latin America began and coincidentally that was the time I got my mtv and boy oh boy, things went haywire from there. I stopped watching tom and jerry and began watching videos all the time. I’d make my homework and everything in front of the tv, I was a real tv addict man, throughout my childhood and for the most part up to highschool I’d say. It was ‘beneficial’ as that’s how I got to train my ears and learn more english – lol I remember going to my English teacher in second grade and asking her: ‘What does Seether mean because I can’t find it in the dictionary’ – that’s a Veruca Salt song and she obviously didn’t know – I’m glad she didn’t know what I was talking about either.

English was my favorite subject at all times because of the variety of stuff we’d do like singing songs and playing games, going to special rooms to listen to recordings, watching movies, learning all types of interesting stuff. We’d have 2 hours of english on a daily basis so that was awesome as well.

So, back to watching MTV. I already had a taste for music, specially ‘rock and roll’ which was what my then early childhood idol would sing to. But this was just another level. I mean, I can recall being watching mtv when the news on kurt cobain being dead went on the air and I even experienced something that I assumed people would experience when someone died. Funny programming but anyways, I became quite a fan of grunge stuff at that time – then I became fond of virtually anything from britpop to alternative, aerosmith, guns and roses and that type of stuff. The visual impact was equal to the auditive one. I was such an addict to mtv, I’d watch the 100 best videos of the year non stop, I’d eat in front of the tv, I’d make my homework with mtv – I began compulsively learning band names and songs, albums, video directors, etc. But, I was also specifically fascinated by girls in bands, to me they were the coolest thing on Earth.

In between my isolation in front of tv, I did have some girl friends that I would hang out with. I’m grateful for one that ws 2 years younger than me and got me into being more of an outdoors girl, riding bikes and skating, playing video games and she got me to like the simpsons and so forth. She had a brother well, she was actually the daughter of friends of my parents from an association they belonged to, so we’d be in each others’ house watching movies and eating chocolates, playing games and stuff. Her brother was already in highschool by the time I was around 8 or 9 and he’d be listening to marilyn manson and pantera and other metal stuff. I had a crush on him lol a tall skinny black haired guy that was into building 9000 pieces puzzles, I remember an impressive one of the tower of babel. Quite fascinating and to me seeing his cd’s and stuff, I knew what he was listening as I’d see it on MTV, sometimes we’d have short chats about it but I’d be a bit nervous while talking to him.

With that group of ‘friends’ from my parents, I also got to know some other guys, also much older and they’d caught my attention because they were these brothers with really long hair so lol to me they resembled the guys that I’d see in headbangers ball and I was just fascinated by them having a band – oh man once they played in my house and I was so delighted – but for the most part I was just an 8 year old girl while they were like 18, I just always wanted to be older to get along with them.

I had another best friend with whom I learned to listen to softer techno stuff at age 8 or 9, we’d spend hours and hours skating and playing – she’s dead now, her entire family died in a carcrash few years ago. I did have lots of fun with her though.

With my cousins I had a tough time. I would be the laughing point because of them not liking the stuff that I liked watching, they’d make fun that I watched mtv all the time while they watched your regular kid’s stuff – I then always wanted to be hanging out with my older cousins who were around my sisters age – from 5 to 10 years older than me. I got to be part of them and go to the movies and such, doing ‘grown ups stuff’ before I was 10.

That reminds me of alcohol as well. The first time I got drunk was at age 3 and I remember that very well. My parents were out on a trip as they would usually do back then and I was left with my sisters and ‘nanny’. I had a real taste for these fruity alcoholic beverages – alcohol was an ‘ok’ and acceptable thing in my family, even for kids for some odd reason – and I became an actual alcohol lover from a very young age – I’m not kidding. When I was 4 I remember drinking more apple cider than I ‘should’ for my age and got a bit drunk with it – I  learned I had to ‘keep it quiet’ so I’d do it secretly. I definitely was on my way to become an alcoholic of sorts because I’d use any time that my parents were out of the house to go downstairs and prepare me something to drink. I really loved alcohol, the taste of it mostly but I assume that the feeling came with the taste as well. See, my mother’s family is a huge family, they were real powerful people at some point, short lived time because they squandered their money in huge parties, alcohol and maintaining their women. Whenever we’d go to the hacienda to visit my great uncle, it meant I’d have free access to alcohol so I’d be delighted to go, I’d get drunk and manage to hide it very well and I mean, I was what 8-9, 10 years old when I’d do that.  Eventually at that early age and oddly enough, I earned myself a reputation in my family of being a drunk – yes, believe it or not, such ignorant people allowing me to drink and my parents didn’t say anything either – I am not blaming anyone because I am fully aware how I got myself into it, but I was allowed to do so. In fact, due to me being a ‘responsible girl at school’ I wasn’t so observed by my family, I’d watch beavis and butthead and even soft erotism in movies at that early age without a single problem.

So. Fun times and memories for me were with my cousin with whom I went through several rivalry points wherein I basically became annoyed at her wanting to be like me. It was such an odd time, we’d go to the same school and not talk to each other, we’d live in the same street and not get along – until we became ‘friends’ again when I was 9. Then the real fun began.

I’d be hanging out more in her house – she’d be the boy-band girl while I was a lot into garbage, no doubt, smashing pumpkins and other bands so we couldn’t get along in the musical terms though we had fun in our ways. Lol I once played to be one of my idols Shirley Manson. I painted my face with heavy make up and danced to the song when I grow up in a crazy way, my cousin recorded it and made a video out of it- lol it was ‘too big’ for his hd so he had to erase it, but I had a blast doing that.

IN the house next door to my aunt’s – my cousin’s house – there was a guy that I had known throughout my entire life and I’d only know he was a real menace, a real badass. He got kicked out of all schools, he’d smuggled porn at age 8 in school, he had blackmailed teachers and his parents to commit suicide and virtually quite the medicated case of what his parents thought was ADHD – this i  only got to know later on. But, it turns out he was into music- that’s what he did. And so whenever I’d visit my cousin, I’d hear his band coming over to his house to rehearse. He’s 7 years older than me so he was already quite the teenager playing his guitar and I’d literally press my ear against the wall to hear him play. I just had a gigantic crush on him. This became the biggest secret kept because everyone in my family had labeled him as a real disaster, a real maniac, a rude guy, irresponsible, and any other bad-ass connotation you can give to a human being. So, I was just amazed by him and every time I’d see him, I’d have those butterfly thingies and I’d start daydreaming about being able to hang out with him. To me it was an ‘impossible love’ that I could simply entertain myself with for the time. You know when you’re a girl growing up and other girls start asking you ‘who do you like from school’ I’d say no one and I’d always explain I liked this guy that was my neighbor. It was not entertaining for them as they didn’t know him.


Funny that I had a real conflict trying to like the usual ‘nice looking people’ – I mean, when I was 9/ 10 I had a real crush on butch vig, Garbage’s drummer and the guy was like almost 40. The stereotype of man that I formed in my head as the ideal man was a grungy looking bearded man – don’t ask me why Chris Cornell pops out at the moment – not to mention others like damon albarn and later on John frusciante. Lol.

In terms of my sisters and all, I had a real hard time when one of my sisters went through her teenage years. I got to become aware of how my mother would be eavesdropping all the time wanting to know if she was dating boys that she didn’t approve of – same with my oldest sister. I mean, I got to be petrified of her ever reading my diary as she’d do with my sister to know what she was doing and so forth – most of this stemming from my mother’s self projected fears on ending up pregnant as young as she did at age 19 and having to get married. So, she would compulsively be wanting to know all about my sisters ‘candidates’ for relationships and whatnot – I’d witness the entire thing making sure I would NEVER let her know who I liked in school or anywhere else.  I had a cool time with my oldest sister who is 10 years older than me. Somehow it became easier to be with her than with my younger sister. From her I got to know Frida Kahlo and her bizarre gory paintings that I’d be so fascinated about when being in her room – my mother would complain all the time that they were too ‘gory’ and that they denoted a lot of suffering which is what probably clicked with something within me. She’d also listen to old stuff mostly the beatles so I got to know every single beatles song because she’d e a real hardcore fan. She was more into a socialist-school with provocative teachers that would make her kind of a revolutionary type of person, quite bright and I’d enjoy talking with her. Later on he entered university where rich people would attend so, she became just another strawberry in the pod and left her initial ideals at peace.

At the end of my first decade I took some dancing classes that I enjoyed a lot as well. In fact as a child I’d dance all types of music at family parties, I’d dance till 4 am till I literally dropped. I was the ‘fun of the party’ literally, I danced throughout my childhood and partied what I didn’t party when I was an actual teenager – weird but that’s how it was.

I got to go out of the country in my first decade twice to the states. I got to see a topless girl on the streets of Berkley when I was 7 as well as their ‘museum’ which was a closed type of parking lot with lots of pairs of shoes pointing towards a single point: a toilet. Lol. I got the disneyland experience, the gambling experience and even picking what would become my ‘lucky number’ while doing so. I’d go seeking for outrageous shoes and clothes that were mostly saying HERE here! lol. I had fun nonetheless and things started changing only when I got to the next ten years of my life which-  just like any other human being – defined who I am and all that I stood for in my world.

I must say that as much as I was fascinated by mysteries and occultism at this age, I was also very fearful of the dark. By this time I was already aware of channels/mediums, I myself would think of that being a ‘great deal’ to be aware of a ‘god’ even if others didn’t and to have this special shortcut to god through this channels and that’s when I began learning about ‘spirits’ and dead people residing in your house etc. I was extremely afraid of that, and that’s also how I’d end up.


This was certainly long and I’ve not revised it either- this is as raw as it can get – There you go, Ross, part of the story and I’ll continue with the second part as next 10 years in my life which will probably take an entire book lol.



octubre 12, 2011



I had quite a point walked with one particular teacher with whom I had a certain ego clash wherein I certainly allowed myself to get angry eventually almost yell at him storming out of his office, only to then having to face him again to present the pictures – surprisingly enough he gave me the highest score.


I had judged him a lot and I had written it all out before and I’ve also written out how I had to yet again present another credit – the final credit in my career – which is once again photography.


I didn’t take the photography workshop because of many reasons… probably indecision was the greatest one as well as having had other priorities in my world when the time came to arrange my schedule to be able to be part of the class from the teacher that was supposedly great.


Somehow I avoided taking photography through the career, in fact I had a very odd road within arts school – not that it matter now – but I found out too soon that I would not be eventually doing that so I would spend only the required amount of time there and the rest I’d dedicate to study Desteni and writing and literally locked up in my house watching all videos and participating in the forums etc.

Okay, deviating a bit from the point as it seems I’m trying to justify why I didn’t take such credits when I had to – although I can say it’s much better to present these credits through extra-ordinary means than having actually spent 12 hours a week on a workshop smelling chemicals that I won’t ever use. Still got a camera that I’ve never used though.


THe point I came to write about here is how I ended up being able to understand this teacher, somehow the entire ego guard was down the moment he saw my work and even got to congratulate me – which somehow I saw I found flattering coming from someone that usually rejects virtually anything. He said how my work was revealing an actuality that is not usually present in the works of people in that school so, that was quite cool and I saw how I tried not to feel flattered but I still saw how this energetic high came up. I mean, we ended up discussing social matters and he didn’t even ask me to frame the photos or anything, he simply liked them a lot so to me it was a cool ‘boost’ coming from someone that has worked through the entire traditional ways of making photographs and considering how I first had approached him with resistances that have now been officially healed as I shared with him a paper that I wrote on photography and myself.  He didn’t even read it I must say, he just checked it out and I simply explained the content of it, discussed on how what I’m doing has no name and I’m not even bothered it doesn’t have a name as I don’t care – all of it came out through playing though I look at what has made such photographs be possible and it’s all because of travelling and money related and virtually specifically this photography point that I had some ‘success’ with early on left such a mark within me to know that I didn’t want to present something just ‘nice’ to people, I wanted to deliver a more precise message and so I did. Or so I am doing.


Anyways, breathing and looking deeper into what I’m trying to say here – and the reason why I’m typing is because it would take me longer to write it on my notebook. I see it’s because this person understood somehow what I have experienced and walked through taking pictures – from me leaving it aside as ‘something I do’ never really considering myself a ‘photographer’ as I know fuck all about handling a ‘real camera’  yet training myself to create images that’s it. And how the entire process of taking pictures had literally become ‘my thing’ and mostly getting to be the most ‘successful’ thing I’d do – I got my ego rubbed many times with that by many people. Then having left it out of the game for quite some time, my photography blogspot is the witness of such process as well, from posting photos on a daily basis to none in months – I literally set it all aside only to now be working in a more specific manner that I am comfortable with as saying what I actually want to say.


Taking photographs, being here, that’s what it was and it wasn’t really about the motive taken at times, but just the moment of I am Here – I see and realize this is me trying to create something ‘more than what it is, I see that it is still part of wanting to create or place some type of importance in who I am and what I am and whatever mental delusion I created around me and taking pictures and/or creating or being an artist… I actually cried for no fucking reason yesterday, I blame it on hormones and full moon but there is just something in there and I opened a sketchbook and wrote something along the lines of ‘never stop creating art’ because of whatever reason I saw in that moment – being understood but why would I even want to be understood, why would I want another to see what I see or how I see the world – we all see the same way so anything else is just quite a mental delusion around it all.


So I’m here to debunk myself, to stop lingering on to any ego-rub that I’ve gotten these past few days around this point. Ultimately, it’s not about me having any form of recognition, it’s about such photographs being able to be an extension of how I see and express the world that I could get to capture because of having the means to do so – otherwise I’d not be doing that.


Looking deeper again, this also has to do with the entire idea of me having entered art school with the sole purpose of dedicating myself fully and completely to creating art – I somehow had written before how the entire point of Desteni had come in a crucial moment in my career wherein I made the decision to not give art school all my time but rather focus on Desteni – I cannot regret such decision at all but I see there are still reminiscences of such perceived limitation to my ‘creativity’ – that’s how I had to link my own process as a work of art for the sake of not ending up as lacking actual creativity or experience within the stuff that one usually creates on art due to having spent most of my time devoting myself to Desteni.


Ultimately this can only be about ego after me having had some type of condescending recognition by this particular character that I had loathed before and that is still loaded by many due to ‘his guts’.


I’m glad I’m over this, and I’m simply going to publish this for the sake of it getting lost in between the digital space of our mental outbursts that must be exposed in case anyone can benefit from realizing that stopping our personal mythologies and special-considerations is part of focusing on what’s actually relevant, what’s actually real and what actually matters wherein I could definitely see that creating images can only be for fun and an outflow of what I can see in a given moment – but for now there are other points at hand that require my full attention.


So, I stop from hanging on to any feeling that I get when creating a certain photography, when admiring anything that may be here in front of my eyes and instead of making it an experience, I breathe and stand one and equal to it as myself.


That way I stop creating such extra added toppings on what must be just another part of my preprogrammed self desiring recognition kicking in – this has been exposed and self forgiven so here I forgive myself that I have accepted and allowed myself to create an entire experience around the point of getting some compliments on work which can only feed an ego of the mind and not the physical reality at all.