Si tirás todo a la mierda queda lo que verdaderamente querés decir, que no tiene por qué ser dicho a alguien en particular, un mensaje que significa algo quizás para vos, o quizás ni siquiera, porque a veces no entendemos lo que queremos comunicar.
domingo, 17 de enero de 2010
Mr. C. meets the walrus
El sol le queda mal a las bolsas de basura rotas. El suelo está cagado y la gente de vacaciones. Fumo. Las 3 de la tarde me convierten en una perfecta mierdita.
miércoles, 13 de enero de 2010
On true art
El verdadero arte es algo que habla por sí mismo, que no puede ser juzgado por nadie de ninguna manera. Es una voz que grita desde el interior sin ecos de pensamiento consciente, contaminado. El verdadero arte es el alma buscando su lugar en el lienzo. Eso es el verdadero arte.
english
True art is something that speaks for itself, that can't be judged by anyone in any light. It's a voice that screams from within without any echoes of conscious, polluted thinking. True art is the soul looking for a place on a canvas. That's what true art is.
english
True art is something that speaks for itself, that can't be judged by anyone in any light. It's a voice that screams from within without any echoes of conscious, polluted thinking. True art is the soul looking for a place on a canvas. That's what true art is.
domingo, 10 de enero de 2010
Time is mine
Spray and acrylic on wood - 70 x 100cm
Escuchá. Es la hora de que te chupe todo un huevo. Caminá hasta llegar, porque el tiempo es tuyo. Y cuando te digan lo contrario, bueno, mandalos a cagar, porque son todos unos pajeritos capitalistas.
english
Listen. It's time you don't give a fuck about anything. Keep on walking till you're there, cause time is yours. And when they tell you otherwise, well, fuck them, cause they're all a bunch of little capitalist wankers.
english
Listen. It's time you don't give a fuck about anything. Keep on walking till you're there, cause time is yours. And when they tell you otherwise, well, fuck them, cause they're all a bunch of little capitalist wankers.
jueves, 7 de enero de 2010
Homenaje a Borges / Homage to Borges
Borges ha ejercido una gran influencia en mi vida. De adolescente solía leer sus monstruosos y omnipresentes cuentos cortos por horas y horas. Tan llenos de laberintos, sueños y precisión en el caos de este universo que no comprendemos. Borges transformó la prosa en Español y no puedo más que sentir orgullo de que haya nacido en Buenos Aires. Su omisión en el premio Nobel de Literatura fue una gran desilusión, junto con las de Joyce y Kafka, entre otros. Aún hoy leo sus ficciones con gran entusiasmo y nunca dejan de sorprenderme. Este es mi humilde homenaje a un gran genio: Jorge Luis Borges.
english
Borges has been a big inspiration in my life. I used to spend hours on end reading his short (and yet monstruous and ubiquitous) fictions. So full of labyrinths and dreams and precision in the chaos. He transformed Spanish prose and I can only be thankful that he was born in Buenos Aires. His omission at the Nobel Price for literature was a great disappointment, together with Joyce and Kafka, among others. To this day I still read his fictions and they never ever cease to amaze me. This is my humble homage to a great genius: Jorge Luis Borges.
martes, 5 de enero de 2010
Champ 47b & Siblings
Spray, acrylic and industrial paint on wood
english
These are the paintings I'm working on at the moment. I started to paint with spray. I'm mixing it with acrylic and industrial paint. It feels great. It gives me much more freedom than the brush. Let's see what happens. Cheers!
lunes, 4 de enero de 2010
Nonsense rhyme
orangelaticadly broiling the anilaments go ratatata, and the specialistic chesturion grumplingly strashes upstarmwards, oh what a frankstatic viewsion!
as the anilaments arcelfrenate their broses against the greist a blurious morgol, mystript friture! himberles underfasts its veslormity, untreked unmarkst!
but behold the flurtrinsick bromalon and its malditious himatose offstring, they slirt slirt markstoward the prite speedfastedly and glomorose, what a rangrand!
and in the middle of the sgrunt, a malgrandity upfrosts its prit, untralented, nondisriputed, left and right, until the hreat mrud can be no more, and they swish lown...
as the anilaments arcelfrenate their broses against the greist a blurious morgol, mystript friture! himberles underfasts its veslormity, untreked unmarkst!
but behold the flurtrinsick bromalon and its malditious himatose offstring, they slirt slirt markstoward the prite speedfastedly and glomorose, what a rangrand!
and in the middle of the sgrunt, a malgrandity upfrosts its prit, untralented, nondisriputed, left and right, until the hreat mrud can be no more, and they swish lown...
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