The serpent and the wave
Human being with some ideas
and a taste for deep waters
Thirteen moons on
the back of a turtle
Measuring the world with
the width of a hair string.
Objects of Trasportation Clampshell box
All images are printed on fine Khadi paper and the drawings are handmade on each sheet.
Edition of 3. email me if interested.
Clampshell box 13x15x3, 13 unique prints
Atlas of a Line
A landscape from a certain angle can be infinite places; a rock, a crack, the wind, the sky, a cave.
These 16 images are connected to the 16 sigils that constitute Geomancy, an ancient form of divination. More than anything, it is an exercise of communion with elemental forces and a praise to nature and all that rises, falls, cracks and shapes.
A video I made for a Greenpeace nomination, 2016
Some of these forms find their meaning in the womb were milk, blood and water are mixed up, or in dreams and walks were memory awakens. These images below are all made with light, algae, curcuma and beet in a process called anthotype.
Tratado de como no hacer fotos
O como yo aprendí a dejar de tomar fotos
-Uno debe de empezar a oír y observar, no solamente lo que se dice o se ve, pero también a tus distorsiones, tus juicios, tus opiniones, tus experiencias, al momento de observar y ver como cada una de ellas evitan que realmente observes. -Krishnamurti.
El fotógrafo siempre esta hacienda algo, como no-hacer haciendo?
Esto no es como no decir nada o no hacer fotos, no decir nada es reaccionar ósea decir algo participando en el dialogo que justamente se quiere cambiar.
El único lugar donde el hacer sin hacer realmente se pueden encontrar es en el espacio de fluir con todo seguir a ser seres llenos de agua, lodo y sangre
Pero q es realmente fluir?
Q significa esto o mas bien como percibimos las partes de la ola antes que se convierta en una corriente..? cual es ese lugar donde el eje de la polaridad se encuentran?
1 hay un lugar el “entretanto” donde estamos medios dormidos y medios despiertos, medios sonámbulos de la vida, este es mas bien un espacio en donde todavia trabajamos con ideas aprendidas y socialmente establecidas, y a la vez estamos abiertos a redefinir y refinar/depurar
*Meditar con ojos entre abiertos y cerrados de mañana de tarde de noche todas las luces son expresión.
2 Se necesita disciplina, alcanzar una claridad sensorial, una limpia visual, es dejar de encontrar todo con los ojos. Aprender a tocar, oler mas, y oir.
3 La fotografía no es una actividad de la vida, es parte de la vida.
4 Es limpiar todo alrededor, esa atención no es solo con el proyecto o la idea, sino aplicarla en todo momento, coherencia con la vida coherencia con las imagen. No nos podemos engañar a nosotros mismos todo el tiempo.
4 Siguiendo esto los niveles de alerta cambian y dejamos que otros radares se despierten, abriendo las puertas de la psique. Cuando no hay ventilación todo esta usado y seguimos cada día re-usando las mismas ideas y modos de operación a veces con trajes diferentes. Es una cosa explorar el mismo tema toda una vida y es otra repetirnos sin cansancio.
La armonía entra y esa armonía de las cosas y formas que los sabios hablan pienso que esta en danzar con uno mismo, danzar tanto que el ser se convierte en el presente, en el instante mismo como una foto abstracta que lo captura todo sin referentes, acercarse a la raíz que no esta allá sino aquí
5 La fotografía corta el pensamiento rutinario de la manera mas sofisticada y espontanea; este corte es sagrado.
6 La sensibilidad de la cámara hacia la luz es la misma sensibilidad del alma hacia la vida. Que soy yo?
7 Como fotógrafa soy mi propia geóloga, busco oro enterrado en la psiquis.
8 Las fotos siempre hablan, estamos listos para leer, descifrar códigos unir historias, hacer sentido. Yo propongo revolver el rompecabezas una vez mas, ser capaces de ser tan sinceros al saber q cada día lo revolvemos y lo arreglamos como nos conviene. La vida no tiene sentido nosotros se lo damos, la vida es libre de sentido la vida son todos y ningún sentido. Al no precipitarnos con la foto, dejamos que otros lugares mas sutiles hablen que memorias mas guardadas vean la luz. Trabajar desde el instinto o desde la locura, entendiendo, aprendiendo de el. Hasta que llegamos a observarlo y en lugar de darle mas información lo dejamos con menos.
Ritmos en practica
* Para empezar a limpiar la visión, ir a lugares donde halla neblina, abrir los ojos bien abiertos y respirar, hasta que los labios estén mojados.
* Ver el horizonte frente al mar y luego la nariz repetir esto muchas veces (agudización de la vista)
* Enfocar la mirada en un objeto de un color con muchas tonalidades (preferiblemente de la naturaleza), tomando tu tiempo.
*Encontrar los espacios negativos de lo que ves como positivo, también se aplica en lo que oimos.
* Visitar el paramo, o desierto, la piel también ve
Somos naturalmente heleo-trópicos
Agua calmada es reflejo, agua en movimiento es reflejo.
Toda vida es realidad sensual.
Para realmente trabajar una claridad de visión, se necesita trabajar en uno mismo, ahí que entender que la visión es relación.
On Riding the wind...
Lieh-Tzu a student of the Tao, found a very great master and went to study with him.
Lieh-Tzu went to sit outside the hut, the master paid no attention
After a year sitting outside Lieh-Tzu tired of waiting, went away, suddenly,
He got regretful and thought he should make another try.
He went back and continue to sit outside and ask the master “why are seasons coming and going”
So he sat there and meditate to control his mind in such a way that he doesn’t think of the difference between gain or loss, good or bad, trying to live in a place where nothing is an advantage or a disadvantage, attempting to keep his mind in the state of non-choosing
A very difficult thing to do
After a year the master look at him, just to recognize he was there,
Another year passed.
By then, the master had invited him to come into his house
However something had changed;
Lieh-Tzu didn’t try to control his mind:
I let my ears hear what they wanted to hear
I let my eyes see what they wanted to see
I let my feet move wherever they wanted to move
I let my mind think whatever it wanted to think
All my bodily existence seem to melt and become transparent
And I had no weight
And I didn’t know if I was walking on the wind
Or the wind was walking on me
That is the fasting of the heart
-The book of Expanding Emptiness, Lieh-Tzu
Rowing songs from the night sea journey
... She is the Life/Death force, she is the incubator. She is intuition, she is far-see, she is deep listener, she is loyal heart.
She encourages humans to remain multi -lingual; fluent in the languages of dreams, passion and poetry. She whispers from night dreams,
she is ideas, feelings, urges, and memory. She has been lost and half forgotten for a long, long time. She is the source, the light, the night, the dark, and daybreak.
She is the smell of good mud and the back leg of a fox.
she is the one who thunders after injustice. She is the one who turns like a great wheel. She is the maker of cycles. She is the one we leave home to look for.
She is the one we come home to.
She is the mucky root of all women. She is the incubator of raw little ideas and deals. She is the mind which thinks us, we are the thoughts that she thinks.
Where is she present? where can you feel and find her? She walks the deserts, woods, oceans, cities, in the barrios and the castles.
She lives among queens among campesinas, in the boardroom, in the factory, in the prison, in the mountain of solitude.
Where does she live? At the bottom of the well, in the headwaters, in the ether before time.
She lives in the tear and in the ocean.
She lives in the cambia of tress, which pings as it grows. She is from the future and from the beginning of time. She lives in the past and is summoned by us. She is in
the present and keeps a chair at our table. She is the future and walks backward in time to find us now.
She lives in the green poling through snow, she lives in the rustling stalks of dying autumn corn,
she lives where the dead come to be kissed and the living send their prayers.
She lives in the place where language is made.
People may ask for evidence, for proof of her existence. They are essentially asking for proof of the psyche. Since we are the psyche, we are the evidence.
Each and every one of us is the evidence of Wild woman's existence, but of her condition in the collective. We are proof of this ineffable female numen
Our existence parallels hers.
The fact that we are bereft in her absence, that we long and yearn when we are separated from her, these are the manifestations that she has passed this way...
- from Rowing songs from the night sea journey: contemporary chants, C.P. Estes
Something moves under the metal
In 2013 I went to Alaska and continue going for a couple of summers.
Best coffee in the dock, I do not like steering (but I learned)
Sockeyes are 5th dimensional beings. The sea is full of jewels and so was the boat
Home was a port, a dot in a rainforest.
My skin was at ease
Drawing was the first language that spoke to me, so I listened, the mountains and the water have an ancient love affair; each shift of light reveals a whisper turned into breeze. These drawings are snapshots of their meetings
Do you remember where we met?
I saw you standing I thought you were an African sculpture that came to life that night for your sister’s ceremony.
We talk about Chinese medicine and Amazonian plants our conversations grew.
I had 5 eyes every time I saw the stars.
The body is:
A city of senses
A state of freedom
A kingdom of ligaments
Matter that is looking towards union
The liver is a constellation,
The kidneys are winter water,
The gall bladder is a generous pinewood
My stomach is fearless trust
The lungs are my mother crying for her son, it is a shiny metal
Touch up while touching deeper
A thousand of worlds inside an eyelid
Sex is silence
The 5 humors.
S: All these voices are me
All these points in the dark are me
All these troubles are me
All this touch is mine.
All this light is ours
Temperatures in the tongue
Five is a disastrous number
It is a holy number
The sky is a drop of water.
Sometime in Syracuse
In the winter of 2012 I was invited to LightWork.
The plan was to work on the continuation of a project.
Sometimes plans are the farthest from reality.
I came back from Ecuador with the intention of scanning and working on the new project, but all I have shot was either underdeveloped or not developed at all, so I had nothing to work on.
The family at LW were so supportive and comprehending they just told me to figure something out, so I did.
I started a new work, one that took me almost a year to resolved, at times I felt as if LW became the only place with a graspable gravity, everything else shifted too quickly. During my stay I was deeply involved in figuring out how connection in multi levels worked.
I took astrophysics, marine biology, animal psychology, aboriginal anthropology experimented with Roosevelt’s favorite dissected bird, joined the astronomy club for stargazing evenings, enrolled in the fencing team and swim.
Everything made sense but I just didn’t know how.
During this time I started a journal, I had finished the second vision quest a month earlier, at the hill what you learn by fasting, being in silence, sitting, and drinking a special brew surfaces much later and these occurrences happened there.
These drawings are raw notes of sketches of inner conversations of opening and closing my eyes
A sea of Vastness
A person is invited to sit.
They are invited to hold a stone
Of their choice
They are given a simple breathing instruction
They go off on their journey
They come back and share.
(Later I tell them what the stone is known for)
This was my first attempt with using crystals.
I was invited for a week to a residency in Niort, France and with little sleep, basic french, and no previous experience using a 4x5 I plunged into the streets to look for participants with the help of Paul, who was there translating and embellishing my words, we found these individuals who were willing to participate closing their eyes in front of a stranger and hold a crystal.
Catching the sole of the fifth wind
For three months I heard stories about Native Americans and power animals.
So many corners where filled with tales that were woven with a teaching.
We sun danced, we moon danced. We danced.
I had seen a black bear, from a long distance heard the howl of a wolf, the proximity of a colony of ants near my fingers, I had a snake that walked around my shadow and I could only stand still.
At the end of my stay I had one animal that intrigued me the most, he was known as a shape shifter, the thief and the giver in folktales, but I knew the coyote is some sort of trickster and difficult to see unless he wants it.
First, I searched for him eagerly, in the hills, in the desert in the night with my companion the cool wind. Then I tried the opposite, with calm with prayer with the idea that energy will call energy.
My last day in Taos, I climbed the casita where I was staying with the intention of waiting for the sun to come up. I sat with eyes semi open the same space where night turns into day, where energy is known to have the highest magnetism or receptivity. I went out and heard all sorts of birds and dry leaves, trucks and children running. I stayed still with the in order to focus in the blurriness of the moment when all becomes one.
So I resisted to open my eyes fully and see the black dog that was sitting in front of me, I knew he was there observing something or just simply sitting, I did not engage.
When I went back inside with a sense of wholeness, gratitude and proud of a newfound attention, Sue said “did you see that black small coyote perambulating around the house? So interesting I’ve never seen one this early before”.
So there you were coyote, I searched for you and you found me in a place between places, and I was so full of myself to even notice.
What a trickster you are.