Miss Cable inside the skeleton of the whale

And after calling myself Miss Workshop I'll call myself Miss Cable. I finally got a digital camera and as I interviewed Julia Varley I took with me the most lovely MD -not mine unfortunately. I was so nervous that I didn't remember the thing had no battery and I had to plug it in the last minute. Julia was very patient and polite. It's amazing the quality of recording of the damned little thing, simply amazing.

My MD looks so old and ugly to me now. It is big and grey, whereas this new one is onix black and small... whatever, nobody cares about MDs anyway, everyone's into i-pod now. I'm so slow, technology's so fast.

Here's an excerpt from The Skeleton of the Whale, which is based, as I said in the last post, on Kafka's Before the law, and Jona's story. Although the actors are in their fifties, they jump and run across the stage, singing and dancing like kids. A crazy crrrazy performance made with love, music, poetry and loads of sweat:

Roberta: Come back and take me, joy and perfume of my life.

Torgeir: If you know the way, you don't need eyes,.
Body, remember how you were loved,
remember how the voices trembled with desire for you.
Remember, my body, remember.
Get up and come back to life!

Iben: There are stories that make you fall asleep.

Jan: ...and stories which awaken you.

Torgeir: Do not insist, woman, our time has yet not come.

Julia: It is written the messanger is the message.

Torgeir: Seek for the utility of seeking,
Not for the utility of finding.

Iben: Which is more difficult?
To raise a man from the dead or
to kill one who is alive?

Roberta: Blessed are the pure, for they are
the dwelling place of tempation.

Jan: Blessed are the men of peace,
for they will butcher in the name of peace.

Torgeir: I cast the seed on the sand and turn it
into fruitful land.
Talita kum.

Iben: The trace of an eagle in the air,
the trace of a snake upon a rock,
the trace of a ship in the sea:
These are difficult things to grasp.

Roberta: But the most difficult are the traces of
a human being who seeks itself.

On the road

And today I'll see another play by the Odin Teatret in Bristol, called Inside the Skeleton of the Whale. I'll also interview Julia Varley about The Magdalena Project, which is a network of women who live and breath for the theatre. So, it's gonna be a goddamned great day today...

Inside the Skeleton of the Whale (1996)
Variation over
Before The Law by Franz Kafka

Actors: Kai Bredholt, Roberta Carreri, Jan Ferslev, Tage Larsen, Iben Nagel Rasmussen, Julia Varley, Torgeir Wethal and Frans Winther
Director: Eugenio Barba

Kafka's parable "Before the Law" tells of a man from the country who, out of subjection and obedience, does not dare to pass through the Door of the Law.

Into this theme the performance weaves metaphysical and nihilistic urges, subterranean plots and black apocryphal versions of the Holy Books. Despair disguises itself as hope, and spiritual extremism assumes an appearance of mocking scepticism. The public space of the theatre turns into a paradoxical space of shared solitude.

The title refers to a verse of the Gospel according to Matthew: Our evil and adulterous generation demands a sign. But no sign will be given to us, except for the sign of Jonas.

Sometimes I call myself Miss Workshop, and I'm starting to think it's not so bad after all. I mean, it's better to say: yeah I'm on a play now. Unfortunately it's not always as easy as it seems. I'm going to Bristol today, and I'll start a workshop with Roberta Carreri, who's worked all her life with the Odin Teatret, in Denmark. I know what to expect, loads of physical work, intense emotions, good company and more than anything, great inspiration.

I've met a lot of religious people in London, and I feel like an alien because none of my friends in Mexico are religious. I enjoy knowing more about Islam for example, but I feel very unconfortable with the word religion. It has caused so much pain and so much trouble, and I think it's weird to hear voices in your head telling you what to do -specially if you're the president of the U.S.

But if I have to say what's the strongest spiritual experience I've lived I'd say it was doing a workshop in Holstebro, Jutland, with Tage Larsen. So much freedom, so many costumes to wear, so much Shakespeare and so many midmarch dreams.

So silent. So silent.

Y que se sentira pisar la tierra de esa isla que yo no habite jamas
y que, sin embargo me habita desde el primer momento que la vi
me habitan sus canales, sus gaviotas,
me habitan sus cuentos,
me habitan sus anemonas,
su olor a hash,
me habitan sus ojos claros
me habitan sus canciones,
sus viejitas tocando el acordeon.

Que sera pisar la tierra en la que nunca naci
y que, sin embargo me dio la oportunidad de morir
dos veces

Sere capaz de morir una tercera vez?
No. Por favor no.

Mis amiguitas

Y hasta ahora se me ocurrio preguntarme donde y como estan las cuatro fantasticas hermanas Jimenez. Y sigue la furia...

Elocuencia

"The only way to change is to stop doing the same old shit" says Damien Hirst in an article I read in The Guardian. Though I'm not a great fan of his work, it was interesting to see he's setting up a gallery in Mexico.

(I can only think of Mazunte, and though I enjoy seeing leaves falling down I'm really looking forward to get some sun, and make others envious of my tanned skin, he he...).

I Hate to say Goodbye

It's been raining all day, and it's damned cold, I need music, more music. I need to finish the things I start. Don't want to say goodbye to my only friend in London -he he, I always say yes, you're my only friend I swear...and it's true. He's going to India, and you can see he's already there. Who am I going to hang out with? Who am I going to talk about steps-to-follow-in-order-to-get-laid with?
I'm being unfair with beautiful Southafrican girl, who's also brought warmth to my heart these last months. Sweet smile, big eyes, small body, great cook, wait a minute... she's the best flatmate I ever had (no offences colombia, veracru, cholula or puebla)!
I received a call from Germany last night, my sister -yes soul sister- was worried about my last posts and I realized she was genuinly worried about me... And she made me see that writing reveals things we are not so aware of. Loneliness. Lonely lonely lonely lonely, that's a great song isn't it? Lonely but not alone, as Mauricio used to say.

If one day you get an invitation to the theatre from a guy who wears a pink shirt and a smart suit run as fast as you can from him. Highly dangerous. Not recommended. Never trust guys who wear moccasins and smart suits -they're devils in disguise. Agh...

Estas fotos las tomé un domingo después de desayunar con el malo de la historia, Caín, en mi pueblo, Cholula. Este señor se pasea por toda la ciudad con su auto y sus hijos. Siempre quise verle la cara, saber más de él, incluso se me ocurrió que algún día voy a entrevistarlo, para saber más sobre su amor al América. Cuanta pasión!

Fuego

Ayer soñé que estaba en un salón de clases con otros chicos y eramos todos niños y de pronto veíamos por la ventana que una gran bola de fuego se acercaba a nosotros hasta que entraba al salón y se hundía en la tierra abriendo un gran hoyo que parecía el ojo de un volcán. Antes de caer me detuve -cómo no lo sé- a pensar, gracias mami, gracias papi y hermanitos.

Suspiro enorme... me quedé esperando el fin, el fin de mi vida, pero sentía mi corazón latir, y pensaba ¿por qué diablos no me muero? Me desperté en ese momento, y me vi en la cama, sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Sola. Y más y más sola.

Don't you love Sarah Lucas?

"I hate excuses. Loathe excuses. I don't want to make them, I don't want to listen to them, I don't want to live one." Sarah Lucas

Yes, sometimes I do it. Sometimes I say I'm sorry I couldn't do this or that and I mean it. But it sucks, cos it sucks when people do that to you. I remember seeing Sarah Lucas' work in Mexico City for the first time. It was a bunny made of black stockings. It resembled a sussage, or a leg or a playboy model. The diversity of meanings was shocking. I think a lot of contemporary artists -specially in Britain- are obsessed with the grotesque. That's not what I like about Lucas' work. What I like is her honesty.

Ultimamente he estado leyendo blogs de gente de la Facultad de Filosofia y Letras de la UNAM, y la verdad que son muy divertidos. Me pasa que disfruto muchisimo ciertos blogs que son mas bien serios y hablan de politica o de estados de animo. Pero tambien he empezado a explorar esos blogs picarescos, que hablan de erotismo, o de doble sentido y de cuestiones amorosas desde un punto de vista mas bien comico. Basta de solemnidad. Aveces es necesario reir de la vida, de nuestras fallas en el amor, nuestra torpeza e incapacidad. Pero reir de verdad no significa dejar de dolernos, significa alejarnos un poco de ese sentimiento tan lacerante que es la culpa.

el otro dia le pedi a mi amiga que le dijera al profe que fumaba tosia y leia poesia al mismo tiempo que lo adoro. y pense decir eso porque sabia que el responderia con arrogancia y desden... para mi sorpresa dijo que el me adora tambien... a! me hizo reir y desconfiar mucho.

Feliz cumple hermanito, bebe... guapo... querido desde siempre...

Ejercitando el musculo, for the royal court

-Y mientras me miras crees que yo lo se
-Y mientras me piensas crees que yo lo se
-No lo se, sabes? No lo se.

De lejos, mientras caminaba hacia el metro el acariciaba su mano, en la multitud distingui su cara, tensa y triste. Para eso te fuiste con ella? Para seguir siendo el viejo miserable tu? Te odio. Te detesto. Necesito decirlo, eres un idiota. Que tiene ella que no tenga yo? A ti.
No quise mirarla. Pero te vi a ti, you looked like a doll, an accesory. Good for you. Bastard. Ahora va a ir a tu casa, va a vivir contigo. Se va a aburrir contigo, como yo me aburri contigo. Y van a caminar por los canales y van a darle de comer a los patos. En la noche van a ver videos de musica, porque no tienen nada de que hablar. Y vas a querer besarla pero no lo vas a hacer. Porque estas lleno de verguenza, porque no se te ha olvidado mi voz, ni mi pelo, ni mis ojos. Vas a prometerle que cruzaras el Atlantico por ella, luego descubriras que no tienes dinero, y que tu vida es corta. Una rubia te mirara una noche de invierno. Tu la miraras tambien. Ella se seguira de largo y bajara las escaleras del metro. Dudaras. Luego bajaras las escaleras tambien. Ella no te mira a ti sino su propio reflejo en el vidrio. No es una pelicula, asi que no te atreves a entrar en el mismo vagon. Te quedas parado ahi, sin hacer nada. Subes de vuelta las escaleras, tomas un autobus hacia tu casa. Estas cansado y empieza a nevar. Llegas a tu casa a ver videos de musica, hasta que te quedas dormido.

tiene pelo negro
es más alta que yo
es morena
es lista
es guapa
es inteligente
esta sola
no tiene vicios
se llama Esther
no tiene insomnio
no le gusta llegar tarde
olvida cosas
sabe que no debe olvidarse
porque ellos la necesitan
ella también los necesita
tiene esposo
él es más grande que ella
tiene una hija
muy distinta a ella
tiene mucha ropa y zapatos
su esposo la adora
sus padres la adoran
su hija no la entiende
ella tampoco
no toma café
hace ejercicio
le gusta el campo
no le gusta la playa
casi nunca viaja
pero esta vez él la convenció
está triste
está contenta
no me entiende
pero sonríe
está preocupada por mi
quiere abrazarme
no lo hace
sabe que no puede
pero sabe que lo necesito
pero no lo hace
me mira
se preocupa
trato de tocarla pero no lo hago
no puedo
quisiera que no se fuera
y ella quisiera no irse
pero se va

Llorar

.romper
.dejar
.pasar
.sentir
.estrellar
.recibir
.encontrar
.descansar
.estirar
.mojar
.saber
.salar

Politically incorrect

I just read an interview in which Devendra Banhart says two people were making love during his concert in Roskilde this summer. I can imagine it perfectly well, it is the festival where everyone is in the mood to kiss you and touch you and tell you dirty things! It's funny, in Copenhagen boys behave like queens but in Roskilde they suffer a metamorphosis and become real vikings. Marie told me she was flirting with him all the time cos the concert was in one of the small stages, grrrrrrr...maudite! she didn't even know who he was.

Oh so flirty...

'When I first saw you'... what a line to start a song, and a story. What does it mean to see for the first time? To capture, to embrace, to realize, to recognize, to aprehend what? what? Sorry for being so repetitive but Jeff Buckley made the most beautiful version of this song, and oh, so flirty...

Kangaroo
when i first saw you
you had on blue jeans
your eyes couldn't hide
anything
i saw you
breathing, oh
saw you staring out in space
when i next saw you
you were at the party
thought you was a queen
oh, so flirty
i came against them
didn't say excuse
knew what i was doing
we looked very fine
as we were leaving
as we were making
what we were making
Saint John
you were a cool jerk
oh, i want you
like a kangaroo
(A. Chilton)

Yes but what is it that you made when you made what you made?

Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow

I opened my e-mail account today and found this present from my older brother. It is funny, This mortal coil means a lot to me, y como no? it is the soundtrack of my teenage years, when my brother and I used to keep a diary together.

SONG TO THE SIREN
On the floating, shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving into your eyes.
And you sang "Sail to me, sail to me;
Let me enfold you."
Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you here when I was full sail?
Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken lovelorn on your rocks.
For you sang, "Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow."
Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.
I'm as puzzled as a newborn child.
I'm as riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or shall I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing: "Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you."
"Here I am. Here I am, waiting to hold you."

Why is it that Tim Buckley touches me so damned deeply? I thought my crying days had passed.

I'm trying to edit an article about a rural school in Uganda, and it's a bit painful to cut cut cut, though terribly necessary. One thing I would never cut is this phrase taken from Ubuntu philosophy: 'I am because you are.'

It makes me remember the British-Pakistani woman telling how many of her relatives died in the earthquake. To lose someone that you love is deeply sad. But I had never ever thought what it would be to lose your aunties, uncles, parents, brothers and sisters.

Who are you after something like that?

Why are you so blue?

Why is the Earth so angry with us? And she must wonder why are we so angry with her.

Durante la lluvia

Los rios enfurecieron y sigue lloviendo en Mexico dice mi mama en el telefono. Sad sad sad news.

Frida Sufrida

Marie and I went to see Frida Kahlo's exhibition at the Tate Gallery. I felt it was a bit stupid to pay £10 for it, specially cos I knew I had seen the paintings before, but it was fun to be there with my friend, who's a painter herself. I have to say it out loud, I love Frida's paintings. Even when she was such a loca. What can I say about her that doesn't sound like cliché? Nothing. My response to her paintings has changed a lot. I used to feel dizzy and sad and sick when I saw them and now I just feel a great happiness, a stupid happiness caressing my head with colour.
It is better to see her with humour, yes she suffered, yes she was physically disabled, yes she spent long hours in bed, but she was fun. She painted her husband with big boobs and Venustiano Carranza with a lollypop and a donkey. That is fun, and yes, let's not forget her dark side. That is funny too... in a funny way.

I don't know why I always end up going alone to the theatre. The problem is that I get very excited and eager to comment on the performance, the scenery, the acting and the famous people I see around -last time I saw Julian donkey boy there. I also have to spend time in the bar, which implies drinking beer on my own. It is ok, but there is this strange feeling inside.
I remember seeing one of my teachers attending several drama performances in Mexico city. He was always alone. And I wondered why. Why? because when you are a regular theatre-goer you have to commit to it; that means you have to spend money and time. If you want to have fun ask someone who really likes you to come with you to the theatre. See the poor guy struggling while he is trying to make up an excuse.
Last week I was feeling very cold and my throat was sore so I was wearing pijamas in the afternoon. Then I realized I wouldn't have time to go to the theatre if I didn't go that night. I put a scarf and a coat and just went to it. I'm very glad to say it was worthwhile...