now that "the world" knows. . .

that i am coming to bogota, EXCEPT FOR my family. . . kkk
i bumped into magda and arturo who arrived back from bogota just two hours before in harristeeter. magda says i dont need to let her know where i am going, since she has a way to know. she kindly advised me not to let my mom know until the last minute...hhhh....this colombian mafia!!!


and this is my "translation" of sambito's pic (not a copy!) the book that i am holding is a book for mogne. you ought to check this out.

and here is an official congratulatory message for the bumblebees...yes it is cheesy but that is what it is about. i can translate later for you.

Fire.....

Despite the Lack of gas and hence hot water, this new household has a lot of heat....as does the neighbor!!!

the princess has arrived...

. . .and now. . .

me, and my baby, and my projects and little bit of music v.s. the darkness called gringoworld...but, moments of real hope emerge in the middle of real darkness...puuuuuuuu

"like a flash"

garrilife=gypsyworld

The Baby is Watching Me. . .

. . .in this newly found attic room in a house shared with FOUR GRINGO BABIES...too much in contrast to the BOGOTA PALACE. . .

Palazzete 4 (2)

The stairway to heaven...who'se heaven? From this balcony, reminiscent of these tropical Romeo's and Juliets, embraced by the mountain...awaiting...awaiting, awaiting...soon.

Palazzete 4

It's a reality.....clearly, one of us is a PRINCESS, who has laborers decorating this FANCY alternative and progressive bourgoise space....

The Bombastic in Carrboro

luisitta is her other name. kkk

The Girl Who Leapt Through Time

One day this girl named Makoto gains an ability to do "time leap" (or ta-i-mu ripu). She can go backwards in time and fix things the way she likes. goes back to yesterday and eats her favorite pudding before her sister eats that up (which will turn out to be as what happens in another time). Go back and fix up love affairs between friends, etc. What motivates her in each time-leap is the hope to change the present situation by going backwards in time, that is, to the past. However, in the end, she realizes the limit of going backwards in time to change the present situation. Instead, she starts turning towards the future to take care of her loss.

Here another makoto has been leaping through different times, first, back to the comfort and discomfort of family life to yuppie expat apartment of singapore, and back to the coziness of BARU, and then to this horror at mouse-full house in carrboro, and back to my new Nepali parents' hospitality, and it goes on forever;

Hope making amidst leaping through time;

To take care of loss.

ps. and i really want to "leap" like this (in the picture).

Tropical Phantasmagoria

Places in the world keep getting caught in the web of events that link exrefugees with refugees: in euro/southern-urban metropolis and small american towns. Lines of travel get painted on clouds of misty mornings with cold rain. The land of the gypsies comes closer to the wedding scene in Kusturica's account of the gypsy dreams. As all this takes place in momentary impulses of dislocated time zones, the tropical misty morning is here to remind us of the hot and humid mornings felt in the skin in everywhere and nowhere places. It has come to be known, and must now be realized, that it will be through the law, (come to know and bear on what may be too much Derridean readings for this blog) that these/our lines of dislocation will cross, finally, in a tropical mist in the colombian mountains, i.e. La Esperanza (yes, hope). So, as Benjamin once wrote, "The panoramas too are in fundamental complicity with this world of mist, this cloud-world: the light of their images breaks as through curtains of rain". On boredom, the eternal return.

gracias per. . .

your presence in dislocation.

my first day back in the gringolandia, anil handed me his camera saying i should take "this gringo moment" (his son's bd party surrounded by little gringos...puhaha).

early august in carboro road feels like sauna to yoni. but the baby will take care of me until i come to bogota to get reunited w/ my dislocated family (the most alternative in its kind!! haha!)

Carrboro's dis-located-family

RE-MEMBERING in the middle of the dis-location,
Feeling the nostalgia of the present...

Presence

"We are not alone". Yerbabuena.

REMEMBER...

"But this darkness of the moment,
in its unique directness, is not true
for an already more mediated right-
now, which is of a different kind and
which is a specific experence
called "present"...nevertheless,
something of the darkness of the
immediate nearness is
conveyed...to the more mediated,
more widespread present by
necessity,"

Bloch, The Principle of Hope
.-----------------------------------------------

Alone again

the hardest coming back ever. . . wating for anil in the airport and my bags are still in chicago. . .i'm already thinking of leaving. . . small town airport is the most depressing thing in my life at the moment!! grrrrrrrrrrrrr

LORAS

Loras are little birds that fly and screech the tropical airwaves. They are forms of endless colors and shapes that reshape the politics of open-endedness. They speak the language of forever, enclosed in feathers and shit. Here, when our friends speak of flying and everyday we are plungged deeper and deeper into the politics of dislocation, i recall a Lora I found that speaks to our endless speech on translation, hence not knowing what she says, but clearly articulating the poetics of transnational popular aesthetics.
Enjoy my dears: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zh3N2YU9vE0

Waiting...

time to leave has come...i wish i wake up in a morning and find myself in the middle of carrboro road...

(hate to be on the road for 24 hours again...)

hate to say good bye to baru...what is baru thinking?