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Between the click of the light and the start of the dream.

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The spinning top made a sound like a train across the valley, fading, oh so quiet but constant til it passed, over the ridge into the distances written on your ticket to remind you where to stop, and when to get off.

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Always and forever.

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Scared I'll be torn apart by a wolf in a mask of a familiar name on a birthday card.

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“You must learn her. You must know the reason why she is silent. You must trace her weakest spots. You must write to her. You must remind her that you are there. You must know how long it takes for her to give up. You must be there to hold her when she is about to. You must love her because many have tried and failed. And she wants to know that she is worthy to be loved, that she is worthy to be kept. And, this is how you keep her.” -Junot Díaz, This Is How You Lose Her

drawing by Hernan Marin

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Deja la ventana abierta.

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Poem and picture by: @jessandthesea. Follow her amazing poetry project around the world: @sexonsundaze

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A summer storm graces all of me Highway warm sing silent poetry I could bring you the light And take you home into the night

Smashing Pumpkins

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Iztaccihuatl and Popocatepetl, the volcanoes in Mexico City.

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Picture: Victoria Legrand, lead singer of the American indie band, Beach House.

I used to attend concerts frequently, at least one concert every three months; that was a very cool way to spend my early 20′s. During 2012 I saw over 24 different bands performing live in Mexico City and I have to say: that was a glorious musical year. This year, I have traded concerts for trips around the world, mainly in the US, and I have to say I didn’t realize how much I missed live music until I saw Beach House in London two weeks ago at the O2 Empire. Beautiful theatre, very royal-esque with white and golden details where the upper booths were situated. I could picture old plays and people wearing very puffy dresses and bumpy hairstyles.  I remember Victoria said the theatre reminded her of Marie Antoinette’s hair; nobody laughed, but me of course, which led her to immediately “apologize” for her American humor. I thought it was adorable and hilarious.  They opened up with “Levitation” from their recently released album, Depression Cherry, which surprisingly, had much more energy and meaning live with Victoria’s soft but powerful voice and an amazing red lighting on the back; during the electronic sounds of the keyboard, very bright horizontal lines would light up on every hit. I understood perfectly what they meant with “There’s a place I’d like to take you when the unknown will surround you”. 

The scenography towards the middle of the concert, turned into a beautiful starry sky, perfectly accurate to harmonize with “Space Song”. The duet with their very talented drummer played during two hours, making everyone sing along, dancing from side to side and some of us, cry with their older songs like “Walk In The Park”, part of their album Teen Dream released on 2010.

Concerts are not just a band playing their songs in front of a crowd, there is much more to them; they are a complex coordination of perfect performance, lightning, production, and of course, the emotional lace between the band and the public. 

Thank you Beach House for reminding me how much I love live music. And thank you, Dominik, for making it happen. 

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"London Thunder" I'm on the red eye fly to nowhere good, how about you? I've been in the air for hours, meteor showers by the pool So one last drink for summer always leaving never you Come back to London thunder, the sound of sirens in my room, yeah And now the tables turn, it's over And with my fingers burned I start a new And now I've come back down, I'm older I look for something else to hold on to There is no way to realign, the post of skin I take back every line Lost my mind in San Fransisco, the worn out disco when tempers cooled There is no water, there is no sound Will you come around? Will you come around? There is no space, there is not time Where'd you draw the line? And now the tables turn, it's over And with my fingers burned I start a new And now I've come back down, I'm older I look for something else to hold on to I'm on the red eye fly to nowhere good, how about you?

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El infierno es amar de lejos

Whatsapp, FaceTime, aeropuertos, hoteles, despedidas, repetir. Estar en una relación a larga distancia es una rutina no rutinaria. Encontrarse en distintos países y ciudades puede ser sumamente entretenido, sin embargo, muy desgastante. Tener que viajar por horas para encontrarse, planear e organizar todo con mucho tiempo de anticipación mas la búsqueda de hoteles y vuelos, se vuelven tareas poco entretenidas. 

Todo sea por El Encuentro; ese momento siempre es mágico, tan anticipado, lleno de euforia y nerviosismo. El verse y sentirse por primera vez después de mucho tiempo nos hace recordar que todo ha valido la pena para llegar a esa escena. Es tan bello que, por un instante, se nos olvida la tortuosa despedida. 

La terrible y maldita despedida. Esa desgraciada llega al final de los pocos días que pasaron cual agua corriendo por los dedos. Ella se aparece puntual y vestida de anhelo, sin misericordia ni empatía. 

Todo gira alrededor de una cuenta regresiva. Vivir en una realidad alternativa es encontrarse a uno mismo todos los días queriendo recorrer el calendario. Amando desde el monitor o la pantalla del celular, contando las horas que existen de diferencia para esperar al momento en el que va a despertar. Todo esto es sólo una probada diaria de algo que no se puede alcanzar en vivo y a color o en carne y hueso. Estar en dos lugares al mismo tiempo, días incompletos; no estar aquí, pero tampoco allá, le quita a las noches todo el sueño. 

Por eso insisto: teniendo tantas formas de comunicarnos, con todas las maravillas de la teconología, ninguna de ellas me será suficiente hasta que inventen la teletransportación. 

Volvamos a la cuenta regresiva: faltan 4 días, 17 horas, 5 minutos y 22 segundos. 

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For once in my life I'm glad to be here and not there.