Can it get ANY better??

May 10 @ the subway

I'm on the subway on my way to the cemetery where Mr. Mozart and Mr. Bethoveen live. Blaaaah! I'm kind of tired, might be because I slept two hours only AGAIN. I went out till 7am but it was completely worth it, obviously... Allow me to rewind a bit. After the inspiring visit to the MOMUK, I was on my way to feed myself when I hearda familiar beat playing loudly near by. It is my nature to be attracted to Electrohouse, so I let my ear guide me through the streets of Vienna until the sound became louder and louder, just around the corner. I turned that corner, driven by curiosity and excitement and I see, a hundred meters away, what appears to be a caravan of colorful trucks, the ones used for parades with big speakers and people dancing on them. I got closer, looked at the crowd and found my kind of people dancing to the beat. A street party! Yes! How fantastic! Dreadlocks, Hindu skirts, tattoos, sunglasses and beer cans. Some few tourists –you can always identify them amongst the crowd, wearing their cameras as necklaces. Police surrounding the area, to keep the crowd in one specific area. As I get inside the "party zone" I see signs everywhere "Legalize it" Wait, is it April 20? What's going on here? My pocket camera was on my hand, asking to be used, so I filmed a bit. Twenty minutes earlier I decided to put away my Canon cause it was demanding too much attention. But hell, this was truly deserving of it. On one of the trucks I see people smoking from a giant, collective joint. The thing was huge. Maybe 60cm long by 5cm in diameter, approximately. I’m not sure. Keep in mind I arrived when the party was almost over, so I have no idea what its original dimensions could have been. Yes, I took some amazing pictures, put the camera away and became part of it all. I danced till the trucks honked goodbye.

May 11 @ some Platz - noon

So as not to confuse the reader, I will clarify that I had to get off the subway, so I couldn’t really finish my last entry. I’m currently sitting at a nice bench, in the botanical gardens and was hoping to have some quiet time and catch up with my writing. However, two women just sat down next to me and they DO NOT stop talking!! "shazenjazen shitzee warten guten abend suban empujen estrujen bajen... bla bla blaaa"* I guess I will continue walking, I only have 4 more hours left before going to the airport. So maybe I could have some nice lunch, somewhere around Stephenplatz and hopefully write some more.*this is what German sounds like to me.

Around 4pm

Now I’m at a park next to the Opera. Lots of "bohemios" which means I’m once again amongst my kind. I recognize some faces from the "Hemp Parade". Nah, seriously... this is the same crowd. Now let me write about the thought-driven occurrence of the day. The interesting thing is that a week or so ago, I thought of the butterfly house my grandmother used to take my cousins and I on a regular basis. I loved that place! I was always fascinated by their beauty and now that I'm older, by the metaphoric state of being of the "Schmetterling" -I have to use my German, right?- So a week ago, I kind of wished I could go once again to this place and well... if you know me a bit by now, you can imagine what has happened. Yes, during my last hours in Vienna, walking around without a specific direction, I found this park, walked through it and on the other side I see a big sign that reads: Schmetterlinghaus. I went in, happy as a child, full of excitement and joy as my wish was being granted. I could have definitely stayed in there the whole afternoon. Butterflies, so many of them. Making the most beautiful dances on mid air with each other. They truly fill me with joy and I can't help but smiling each time I see butterflies...I can't really write properly right now, there's too much going on around me at the moment. But there is one thought I do need to put down NOW, before it goes away or changes into something else... I feel energized. This trip was exactly what I needed. I feel that some of my life objectives, if not THE life objective, are clearer now. I think I've figured it out... It's not discipline that I lack; it's not even the fact that I'm too inconsistent and I get bored quite easily. What I need to set straight is my sense of priority. No, that's not even the right word. It's how I use my energy; where and how I focus it. How I use my time, what do I focus my mind on. I begin to understand that what occupies my mind constantly can no longer be. I'd be a fool if having realized what I did this weekend, I throw it all away when I get back to Stuttgart. This is what I propose myself to do: LESS PARTY, LESS ROMANTICISM AND MORE USE OF MY TALENT. Hold on a minute. Don't I have talent for parties and flirting? Well, maybe tone it down a bit. Some is good, too much can be addictive. And I think it's time for me to do rehab.

To create... To live of NOW... To imagine a future, but without expectations... To be... pure... as light... To be me, even when it feels terribly wrong... Just be... Just breathe...

My inspiration

May 9 @ Italian Restaurant, Vienna

Today I spent six hours at two different museums. Two hours at the Kunsthalle, where the name of the exhibit definitely caught my attention. "Porn Identity" -porn as an art (?) concept or something approximate. To be looking at porn, of all sorts, at an art gallery, was quite an experience. I always thought this is something you watch alone or with your partner to get "in the mood". But to watch anal sex on a big screen, or videos from a hidden camera in a public toilet, where guys go to fuck each other... well, I'm not sure about it. It was definitely interesting. But I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable if a man was around, watching the same installation than me.

*I found an interesting article about this exhibition, you can read it at: http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-fg-vienna-porn25-2009mar25,1,4208246.story.*

The one piece I found quite original and inspiring was an installation titled "Dolores" (por Katrina Daschner) The space is divided into rooms, not by walls but by markings on the floor, simulation an architectonic plan. It took me some time to figure this out and to understand that you are supposed to enter the rooms in order, to understand the story. The interesting thing about this, is that it was an experiential installation, as you could break the narrative and enter whichever room you please. Floor Plan as follows:

Room #1:
Introduction of characters. Three television sets, with headphones. Each TV shows the three women involved in the story: Dolores, a 17 year old girl who had lost her father in a car accident at age 4 and who is dating the woman in TV #2. She's a 40 something year old artist "with beautiful breasts" -as Dolores describes her. TV#3 depicts Dolores mom, getting dressed and getting ready to leave the house. All three intros are narrated by Dolores and each loop begins exactly when the previous one ends, which means you can transition from one TV to the other with the sense of continuity.

Room #2:
A series of photos of the mother, as she goes out to the street and gets hit by a car.

Room #3:
Dolores and her girlfriend on a car. You see the internal dialogue of each character as a subtitle. Music is being played but the characters remain silent. The subtitles are coloured differently for each woman. The music -in Spanish- is quite touching.

Room #4:
Two photographs. A set of headphones for each of them. You hear a version from each character about what happened after the car ride.

Room #5:
A dialogue between Dolores girlfriend and her husband is written on the floor, inside the room plan.

Room #6:
Facing each other, two TV sets. One portrays Dolores being intimate with another woman. The other, installed on a door, portrays her girlfriend's head looking at them with her eyes tearing up.
*http://www.katrinadaschner.net/www/index.html*

I really liked this work and it gave me some ideas for my Thesis. But I have too many ideas now... however, it could be regarded as future work. Everything I've seen so far, has stayed with me one way or the other...

After two hours at the Porn exhibit, feeling a bit too horny, I made my way to MUMOK -the Museum of Modern Art. In the first floor there was a full exhibit of Nam June Paik, whom I've been studying for the last three years. That was extraordinary, of course... but the best was yet to come...

Maria Lassnig, born in Austria in 1919. She reminded me of my grandmother and myself. Yes, it sounds as strange as it is to explain it. But I did feel deeply identified with this amazing woman. Her works touched me deeply, specially her animated autobiographies. Painting one frame at a time, she made a series of animations which were installed at the museum. "Kantate" and "Self-portrait" were direct references to her life and thoughts and it felt so good to know that my feelings are thoughts were shared with an artist of this caliber. I left the museum feeling that I indeed was on the right path, even when compared to the rest of the world, feels so wrong at times. I am convinced now, more than ever, that I am an ARTIST, even when the word alone seems to be so heavy when pronounced. But it's true. I understand why I think the way I do, why I seem to always be swimming upstream like the salmon, only to get to the other side and die. Then I'm reborn in all the eggs laid along my path. It's the never ending cycle of life. As an artist I'm constantly recycling what I see, hear or feel, by making those into art. I'm not good at relationships, cause that would take time off my work, cause artists need to be very generous and extremely selfish. I still need to learn how to be selfish... but it's a good thing... I'm slowly learning to truly take care of my needs first. Her painting above PERFECTLY describes what I'm saying. It's called "Dich oder Mich" -You or Me-

I am an artist, even when it hurts so much... and I thank my grandmother for this gift. I thought of her so much while at the museum, both because Lassnig is now an elder woman (still painting) and because I made my very first painting next to her and under her kind "instructions". She also took me to more museums and art galleries than no one ever did. I admire and respect my grandmother Clara -her name actually means "clear" or "light" as "someone being..."- in a way that is inspiring on it's own. I just wish I had her here to visit museums with her. GRACIAS ABUE POR HACERME QUIEN SOY, UNA VERDADERA ARTISTA... AUNQUE EL MUNDO ENTERO NO LO ENTIENDA, VOS Y TODOS LOS ARTISTAS EN EL MUNDO COMPARTEN MI SENTIR. QUE HARIA SIN EL ARTE? As Picasso said "Art is the lie that make us realize the Truth..."

Relationships, material goods and dedicating my life to taking care of a house and raising a family doesn't seem to have any appeal on my life. I always wondered why, but now I know for sure. Even when it gets lonely, I know there's a bigger purpose, or better said, a different purpose for me than these. Making art, expressing what many feel but ONLY a few can tell. "Loving all mankind, even when they let me down" -as Lassnig would say. Forgetting yourself and expressing life beyond your body through a painting, a photograph or an animated drawing...

So I give up relationships. I do. Now sex, that I can't give up. It makes me feel good. Something opens inside me and the release of energy changes each time. It's like a ritual. No, I won't give up sex but I do wonder how much time and energy, and the gift I have, I waste thinking about sex and men. The things I could do if I dedicated the same amount of time I do thinking "insignificant" things, or obsessing over trivialities, to creating. The day I'm able to put these words into actions, that day I would have taken the biggest step.

Something called me here. It was necessary for me to come to Europe, to Germany, to detach from my mother, to suffer because of doing so, to need to escape, to come to Vienna, to see a poster of "Dich oder Mich" on a street lamp, take a picture of it to remember, to find the museum, see Lassnig's exhibition, to realize who I am, more than ever before. Life is a constant chain reaction, cause and effect. You turn a corner and all of a sudden you are facing your destiny. But how did you get to that corner?

So thank you mom... for driving me crazy. If it wasn't because of you, I would have not gone to Vienna at the right time. Well, it's always the right time... I forgive you...

Oh Vienna

May 8 @ Schönbrunner, Vienna

Once again I have hopped on a plane to escape my thoughts. I find travelling one of the best forms of meditation there are. I'm now sitting on a bench, looking at the Royal Gardens and imagining what life here would have been like...

It hasn't been more than 8 hours in this city and already I have some interesting stuff to write about. I haven't slept much. Well, actually I've slept for 2 hours last night, cause I went to see my friends' band and I ended up singing with them till 1am. I got up at 4am to catch my flight at 6am and I have been walking since 8 in the morning. It's now 4 in the afternoon...

When I arrived at the airport, my instinct put me on a bus to Westbahnhof which was only two blocks away from my Hostel. BEAUTIFUL!! (both the hostel and my instinct as travelling guide) I left my bags and went for breakfast at a small but cute little Cafe, Vienna style. After enjoying my coffee, I walked following the wind. I walked straight, turned corners. I stopped, looked around, took photographs and continued walking until I found a park and a guy playing guitar. I got close to him and took pictures, only to discover that he was pretty cute. And well, those who know my nature can guess what happened next. Yes, conversation. I find it irresistible to talk to cute guys, specially if there's a guitar under their arms and they are singing beautifully. So we talked. He's name was Daniel. "I'm a composer and play the piano. I'm learning now how to play guitar" -he said- "Sing one of your songs" -I asked. He sang for me and I listened. We talked some more and then asked me if I didn't mind if he smoked his joint, which was sitting next to me waiting patiently on the bench. He offered me a cigarette and we chatted for a while, like old time friends. Then he offered me a toke and told me some more about his interesting life. Also a traveller... No wonder... I always feel very comfortable around artists and world wanderers - as if an invisible bond joining us together is waiting to be revealed- and this guy was BOTH.

Forty minutes later he stood up, looked at me carefully and quietly said he needed to get going, as he had his guitar lesson. We looked at each other, almost examining the inside of our eyes; silently thanking each other for the moment just shared. Those were some awkwardly nice couple of minutes. "Now what?" I thought. "Now nothing" I said to myself. Let the moment go when it has to. Stop trying to save them or make them longer. It never works. "See you around" I said. I could have asked for his number, I could have told him to meet somewhere later. I could have extended the moment in many ways if I wanted to, and I kind of did. But it wasn't what I needed, so I didn't... I'm learning and it felt good to let go. No future plans, no expectations. Just the moment... "It was a pleasure to meet you"-he said. He gave me his joint as a gift and I gave him a small baggy I brought from Amsterdam, as a souvenir. He then turned around and walked away. He looked back once and waved. I smiled and continued walking feeling a bit fuller... a bit happier and very grateful for the existence of such people.

I walked straight for half an hour until my stomach made me stop in front of a food stand at the entrance of the park where I now am. I had lunch soaking in sunlight and felt like I was in a dream as I entered Schönbrunner. I find no proper words to describe this place. The park, the palace and it's gardens are something I've never seen before except in movies. So much green... colourful flowers... birds... trees... I could spend days here. I also went to one of those labyrinths made of tall bushes, perfectly pruned. I can picture those Epoque women running around, laughing... I don't know, I'm thinking of Amadeus (the film) Well, after all I am in Vienna, right? Oops, interruption. I'll be back later...

I am Alive

May 1st

Today is a beautiful day AGAIN. Thank you God, thank you Universe, thank you Holly Spirit and Mother Earth. Thank you, cause since Monday it has been quite shitty... quite dark and cold... quite LONESOME. But today is truly beautiful. The sun is shinning, the grass seems greener... I feel alive again. I've been almost dead inside, these entire week. I went to a scary place. A place I haven't been in 5 months. Today I'm back. Today I celebrate life. I celebrate that I am indeed alive, that I can breathe, that I am free. I celebrate my friends, my acquaintances and even those who don't like me that much, cause they push me to be a better person. I celebrate love in all its shapes and sizes; in all its forms and expressions. I celebrate people and I celebrate children in particular, because of their joy, their purity, their free-spirit. Whenever I feel down, it is always a kid's smile that reminds me how beautiful life is when contemplation exists only from the eyes of innocence...

The cycle of life,
smiling at me...
Baby cries,
I cry...
And the tears nourish the soil in which I stand.
My feet are wet,
but I can feel them.
My soul is full
and I can feel it too.
Your hands are cold...
let me warm them,
let me hold them,
cause you are too beautiful to be cold.
I love it when you laugh,
cause you are full of life;
even when you seem lost.
Bicycles, trees and apple juice.
Run, walk, stand still.
I just want to see you smile again.
Flowers, birds and butterflies.
Look at the distance between us,
is there any?
Red shoes and salty cheeks,
come with me,
I will show you what is like
to live in between rainbows...

One more time, it's CRAZY TIME!

April 24 @ some bar in Amsterdam

The adventure has begun... One more time in Crazy Amsterdam and I can't get enough of it. I arrived yesterday and I already have a funny anecdote to tell...

I arrived at the airport at 4pm and Magali -my cousin and host for the weekend- had to work till 7pm, so I thought I could walk around and see some of the city till that time came... well, it didn't quite happen that as planned. First of all, I rode the wrong train. Every sign was in Dutch, so I decided to be "adventurous" and hop on the first train that arrived at the station, hoping it would take me where I needed to go. After 20 minutes, the city landscape transformed into plenty of green land with cows, sheep and farm houses. "Mhmmm... this doesn't look like I'm going anywhere near the city center" I thought. To answer my question, an inspector shows up 2 minutes after my realization. He asked for my ticket and naively I asked "Oh, where do I buy one?" "You can buy it from me, but it's gonna cost you 30 Euros, cause you had 40 windows where to buy from. Where are you going?" He asked, realizing that I was completely lost. "Amsterdam Center" "It's the other way. Get off at the next station, BUY A TICKET and take the train that goes in the opposite direction" I thank him for being nice enough to not charge me and did as he said. The next stop came 15 minutes later... I was really far from where I wanted to go. It ended up taking me two hours total to get from the airport to the central station but at least I got to see some pretty landscape...

Once at the central station, thanks to my photographic memory, I was able to find my way to Magali's house (an hour walk). SO I walked... for an hour... with my bags... but to be honest I was feeling quite light, as I always feel when I travel alone. I walked away from the touristic area to keep away from tourists and really experience the city as is; I walked and looked around, kept walking as I observed people, took pictures and took it all in. When I began to feel tired, oh surprise, my final destination was right ahead. I was eager to take a nap and a warm shower -it was 8pm already- to recharge my batteries before heading out again to experience the night. Too bad my host wasn't home and her number wasn't in my phone, as I presumed... But instead of getting frustrated, which would have definitely been easier, I went to the supermarket, bought myself some Mexican salad and had dinner at her doorstep, hoping she would show up soon. After an hour, dinner was finished and my calmness dissipated. I texted Giacomo -the Italian boy I met on my first trip there- asking if he still had Magali's phone number, which I gave to him the night we met. His answer was bizarre, I'm not sure he understood what I was asking for. No luck with the ragazzo... Shize! Now what?? Ok, neighbors. I met them in a party in February, maybe they would remember me. I knocked on their door and the guy let me in... how nice! I went online, looked in my facebook messages for her number but no luck either. However, Nahuel - my best friend's brother with whom I stayed at Magali's back in February- happened to be online and kind of saved the day. Kind of, cause her phone was off. The kind neighbour offered me to open the "party room" so I could wait there. Conveniently enough, it had a bed and I decided to rest till whenever... by now it was 10pm and I was loosing interest in going to party the night away. I really wanted to get going, but I couldn't leave until I got in touch with this girl.
At 11:30pm I was waken by Giacomo's phone call. Fuck, I had fallen asleep... he wanted to make sure I was "in". He was on his way home and we agreed on meeting the next day...

Today is the next day, I haven't seen him yet and I can't say I'm not eager to do so, I kinda like the guy... but whatever. Things never go as planned, unless your plan is truly the best choice. Anyways, there's so much I wanna do that I need to take it slowly; if not anxiety gets hold of me and that's for sure not the best choice. I have decided to go wherever the wind takes me. I walked for a while, found a nice coffee shop away from tourists, had a moment with the guy at the counter, then a moment with some other guy who was smoking hash but complained that weed makes people crazy... "Depends who and what you mean by crazy" I said, and continued my journey... I took the streetcar to the center and met up with Milan, Joan and Laura, who weren't too... mhmmm... well, fully there... so I decided to split after an hour or so. I bought some clothes at the Turkish market... walked some more and ended up at this bar.

Anyhow, my beer is finished. I'm gonna keep walking. Tonight is coming soon and I'm meeting the ragazzo...

April 25 @ Loft Coffee Shop

The persistence of time
has carried me away.
I try to make moments last forever
cause I find it too hard to let go.
Let go of everything...
Let go of time...
I need a moment to reflect upon my well being.
What do I need the most?
What's my pursue of happiness?
How to distinguish between commonalities and facts?
How do I approach you?
How do I let you go?
How to exist surrounded by nothingness?
How do I let me go?
Maybe I'm waiting to be told the answer,
waiting for someone to whisper in my ear
what I already know.
But if I can't listen to myself, to my own wisdom,
why or how would I listen to someone else?
So, I ask myself: How to let go?
Do nothing, I say.
Want nothing and EVERYTHING will be there for you to take.
Don't obsess over trivialities.
Be always full by the present moment
and forget about what could have been,
both in the future and past tense...

@4am -after meeting with Giacomo

Good memories should be left alone... Pleasant moments lived in the past should be JUST that: moments that had passed. Because when you try to re-live a moment that is gone, when you try to recreate an unique experience, the after taste is nothing but bitter...

At least I feel like I've learned something: Don't look back, just keep moving forward...

Wait, haven't I learned this a million times before???

Sapo de otro pozo

Ojala supiese andar mas abrigada de tu olvido,
siempre que te nombran.
Ojala pudiera ir a chapotear en otros besos,
lejos de tu boca.
Pero resulta que soy torpe para entender,
como un caballo de ajedrez gastado
salto entre las sombras vuelvo mas piantada.

Ojala me atreva a ser
mas asesina de mis sueños para no soñarte.
Ojala pueda poner en penitencia mi paciencia,
para no esperarte.
Pero resulta que soy lerda para mover
como un caballo de ajedrez chiflado,
salto sin saltarte, vuelvo tiroteada.

Algunas noche te pierdo
algunas mañanas te vuelvo a empatar.
Algunos errores son deliciosos...
no le tengas miedo lindo,
a un sapo de otro pozo.
Algunas noches me enfermo
algunas mañanas te vuelvo a sangrar.
Algunos errores son deliciosos...
no le tengas miedo hermoso,
a un sapo de otro pozo.

Ojala que aprenda a ser mas elegante en mi derrota
cuando mas te piense.
Ojala me salga ser mas testaruda con mi orgullo
cuando mas te alejes.
Pero resulta que estoy vieja para crecer
y como un caballo de ajedrez pifiado,
salto mis miserias, vuelvo a ningun lado.

Algunas noches te pierdo
algunas mañanas te vuelvo a empatar.
Algunos errores son deliciosos...
no le tengas miedo lindo,
a un sapo de otro pozo.
Algunas noches te entierro
algunas mañanas te vuelvo a soñar.
Algunos errores son deliciosos...
no le tengas miedo hermoso,
a un sapo de otro pozo.

(Caballeros de la Quema)