This love-hate relationship with language has everything to do with the power of words. It lives inside our heads and promises to be tamed through patience, love, endurance, passion and sacrifice. Just a little control over it is enough to incite a strange impulse on me. I wish to convey my thoughts fully, and transmit the emotion inside of me with just the right phrase. No small thing left unsaid. I jump at the opportunity without being ready, and I usually drown, take people along to this weird dance of meaning.Read more "An olive branch for things left unsaid"
De dónde vienen, cuál es la fórmula, cómo han cambiado, los estereotipos que imperaron en los clásicos de las décadas pasadas y los obstáculos en la producción de este subgénero en el siglo 21.Read more "El corazón de las comedias románticas"
My father told me this morning that, after three months of fear-mongering speculation coming from all fronts, we find ourselves as confused as in the beginning of February. “Everyone has something to say, no one can really say what’s up, and everything we think we know has been put to the test”. This is uttered […]Read more "Highway to somewhere"
My friend is planning to go to Canada with her husband and stay for three years or more. She is tiny, discrete, with a pale face and eyes like brown marbles, always open in a way that remind me of a frightened rabbit. But behind the first impression you can see a quick mind and […]Read more "If everything goes right"
What is worth talking about? Is all we say important? I think everyone has heard the usual exhortation of Say whatever you want to say, you won’t have time once you kick the bucket. Dead man tells no tale, after all. But, the thing is, what do we want to say? The moment we open […]Read more "To have a conversation"
Where July felt restless and exploitative, August so far has made itself felt with its small doses of cathartic releases throughout these days of diminishing heat. The heat is still there, though, in all manners of speech. There is no more scorching self-doubt, but rather an abundance of small fires kindling together a dark moor […]Read more "Before the oracle, with the flowers"
Pensó, “Ah, tal vez…” y se levantó convencida de la silla. Hacerlo pareció despertar a sus piernas de un letargo del que no se habían percatado. Se sintió cansada de repente, aunque los gritos en el exterior parecían irse acercando al edificio. Un mareo momentáneo la hizo recostarse de nuevo y cerrar los ojos. Al […]Read more "Como el sonido de la marea falsa"
Cuando la conocí le hice todo tipo de preguntas para el proyecto. Y ella me dijo que lo pensaría y que tendríamos pronto tiempo para vernos y terminarlo en la biblioteca. Me miró las manos cuando dijo pronto, el gesto me impactó por un instante y sentí que podría conocerla mejor si la invitaba un […]Read more "Su serenidad es una paz ajena"
So he, she, they are gone. They are probably loving you somewhere and having a good time anyway. It is what it is and there is really no need to fret on that too much. You wouldn’t like for them to be bitter or anxious. You, after all, love them. So swallow that bittersweet pill […]Read more "Ways to remember a person you love and cannot see everyday"
I was thinking about how everything has subtly changed during the last year and the way things have become replaced and renewed and revealed as actually being always there, waiting for their time to attach themselves to a tender side of your memory. Over the course of a few months, I have lost people, convictions, […]Read more "The suit of cups"