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Cartas Despedidas

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Haciendo un recuento de mi vida Mi única falta de gravedad Es no confiar más en ti

Efflorescence

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How can I explain to a pedestrian the joy of riding my bicycle through the drippy streets at night, my single headlight bobbing, the light sharp on one side, cuts through a tree having a dream of itself, everything tethered to its twin-dark, thoughts cast a shadow, shadows cast a word if you lower yourself to a hush, the word is ordinary like a word, is cabbage. Sometimes smoke.

Lengua materna / Mother tongue

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I do not imagine a theater, because I live theater, breathe it in and out; I dream it. But, if I had to imagine a theater, then I'd like to imagine that the languages that have been forgotten, which are still spoken in many parts of the world, would be part of this new playwriting.

feast

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It is raw, it is real, it is happening with you in the room and can only be experienced in the “here and now.” It is open to a multiplicity of heres and nows depending on the realities, perceptions, localities... of those present.

ingat (to take care)

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that moment before something is about to happen where anything is still possible in between this is where you are stuck

Pneuma: Queer Telling

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Dangling in mid-air like a thrust-out tongue, an oval-shaped rocky surface extends from the mouth of a cave to form a rough-hewn apron stage in the middle of a mountain.

500 Icons

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1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1

Couchscore : Gloss

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when I close my eyes, this apartment is a faded light      when I close my eyes, we begin to doubt