04/02/25 - 24/04/25

04.02.25

The garden calls for its gardener to see it die.
It demands her hand sculpt and modify
the naked land, turned over in the flowerbeds
under the frozen night. The garden kills
and asks to be killed so it can be a garden. But to make
the correct gestures in the wrong place,
dissolves the equation, reveals the bleak windswept plain.
Love reclaimed through difference like
dark blue sky against sorrow. A royal
drop of the storm in whose embrace you reach
the farthest shore. I wish you
were here amor, but you are, gardener and not
garden. You unearthed my heart from your flowerbed.

Diana Bellesi.

10/02/25

I've always assumed that we all question our sense of belonging to a place, but it's not a universal concern. Territory isn't just an expanse of land, but the place we come from. Thinking about the complexity of inhabiting the Earth involves recognizing the tensions surrounding territory, where some human lives impose themselves on others.

19/02/25

The value of life, the value of the land, the value of life on the land.

The connection with life, through contemplation and joy.

It's not obvious but you can see that this young man is smiling at the camera (and/or at the person taking the photo).
It's not so clear but you one feels that the young man is smiling in the photo.

Looking from above at what is perhaps "the landscape of his land."

23/02

the shadow of the shadow

the shadow of the tired plant asks us: "And you... how do you really feel?" And since it's a shadow, it only accepts incorrect answers, evasive or cynical ones, automatic responses: bad jokes, lies, or answers in which the level of sincerity is akin to putting a bleeding heart on the table.

I've been thinking about gaps, about mental lapses.
Because it seems I've experienced them in recent months.
I've been forgetting important, intimate, meaningful, beautiful things.
I haven't forgotten them, but I forgot them for a few months.

The answer doesn't matter, that the question exists is enough.

How to strengthen that which was barely held together?

25/02/25

03/03/25

To understand territory not as having its own identity but rather as a producer of individual and collective identities.

13/03/25

When I first learned polyphony, it was a revelation in listening; I was forced to pick out separate, simultaneous melodies and to listen for the moments of harmony and dissonance they created together. This kind of noticing is just what is needed to appreciate the multiple temporal rhythms and trajectories of the assemblage.


- Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing. The Mushroom at the end of the world: On the Possibility of Life in Capitalist Ruins, p.44-45.

15/03/25

1. Headphones on :

2.

“And more than anything, you hear the footsteps of the animals that one has been before becoming human, the footsteps of stones and plants and things that every human has been. And also what one has heard before, all of that sounds in the jungle night. It sounds inside oneself, in the memories that one has heard throughout one's life, dances and fifes and promises and lies and fears and confessions and cries of war and moans of love. Voices of the dying, that one has been or that one has only heard. True stories, stories of tomorrow. Because everything that one is going to hear, all of that sounds, foreseen, in the middle of the jungle night, in the jungle that sounds in the middle of the night. Memory is more, it is much more, do you know? True memory also preserves what is yet to come. And even what will never arrive, that too it preserves. Imagine. Just imagine. Tell me, who will be able to hear it all? Who will be able to hear it all, all at once, and believe it? ...”From: las 3 mitades de Ino Moxo y otros brujos de la Amazoná (The Three Halves of Ino Moxo: Teachings of the wizard of the Upper Amazon.)by way of introduction: Ino Moxo enumerates the possessions of the air.

26/03/25

stones that seem like crickets that seem like caves

This is a mix of tracks from stone molecules, varied, sung at different times and speeds. It's not a composition, just a play of rhythms and sound textures that pretend to be something they're not

31/03/25

Time Collector

I've called up a video from my 2019 exhibition. What Gianine shared in relation to the collective sound of stone molecules. I thought about rhythm as a unifier of multiplicities: accumulated time, materials, colors, forms, places, and what each stone means to someone.

3/04/2025

07/04/25

Which of the engineers will order us
to build the road?
the hillside splits,
the stones and the bush, engineer.
With what heart?
poor stone.
With what courage?
will I be able to pulverize you.
With what heart?
will I be able to split and scatter them, poor rocks.
Take aim, prepare dynamite.
how beautifully I'll pulverize you.
detonate
how beautifully I'll pulverize you.

(Ayla of the single community members of Ichqachuri and Qayaw from Puquio, Lucanas, Ayacucho. Collected in August 1975.
Rodrigo, Edwin, and Luis Montoya,
The Blood of the Hills.)

*Ayla is a traditional Andean song form, typically a work song or communal song sung during collective labor or community activities.

08/04/2025

I borrow your shadow / 2023

14/04/2025

16/04/2025

2017-18

We've been making maps for several years.
The kind of maps that lead nowhere, but condense as much as possible into a letter-sized space.
We map in reverse—or the reverse of mapping—collecting textures, outlining shadows, stones, leaves, ocean waves... recording tiny, overlapping sounds.

I've been chasing materialities, and along the way, I get really lost.
Like when you wake up from a nap and don't know what day it is.

I feel like the "reverse of mapping" is a way to ground ourselves after that looooong nap, we repeat—in earnest—ways of knowing the world.

We analyze things through a science that's 80% invented/adjusted along the way,
to send a message in a bottle amidst an ocean of microplastics.

22/4/25