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
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