I took home with me a small glass bottle of Coca Cola because I liked it. I saw that the light was interestingly disseminated on the inside and started playing with it. Among other things, it occurred to me to put images of Buddhas at the bottom, and then photographed them from the top. The Buddha's energy, their illuminated power fields manifested. These are some of the pictures. 03/08 Buddhas & Boddhisatvas serie. L R
August 11, 2008
I love the sky. Ever changing. I like it when the sun is behind the clouds and beams of light glow in all directions. When I saw the first photo, with all the light shinning from the cloud, and its round pattern, I thought: Wow, looks like a Buddha could be appearing there. And then I thought: Why not? So I took the previous pictures from the CC bottle series, and added them to it. 07/08 Buddhas in the sky serie. H R, D E
August 5, 2008
Yo nací de cabeza.
¿Por qué tengo que pasar la vida adherido al suelo?
Mi naturaleza volante agita las alas y no me elevo.
Arriba estaba. No lo recuerdo, lo siento.
Un día caí y quedé pegado al suelo.
El aire me envuelve, alienta,
susurra mejores momentos,
Cuando me acuesto y miro al cielo
sé que es mi elemento.
No vuelo, no caigo.
El cielo no es arriba, es abajo: un precipicio.
Estoy fijo a un techo que me detiene, succiona,
Miro el espacio; los edificios, árboles
como raíces aéreas no yacen: cuelgan,
las nubes ligeras, el infinito
con gravedad, como imanes, me atraen
y quiero lanzarme, dejarme caer como un águila,
¡saltar a la libertad!
"Mi elemento", PR 11/05
The sky is my element. I was born upside down. Up there I was. I don't remember, I feel it. One day I fell here. The ground is a prison that holds me. The sky is not up, it's down; the clouds, the infinite pulls me. I look at the space; the buildings, the trees, like aerial roots they don't lie: they hang. I want to let go. 04/07 Ags & others serie. L R
July 29, 2008
The high sky, another world, another beautifull world. So distant, so close. "Up there in the distance sat beauty, too distant to touch, too close to comprehend." High Flight is the name of one of the best poems ever witten about flying, made by John Gillespie Maguee Jr. during the II WW. "...and, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod the high unsurpassed sanctity of space, put out my hand, and touched the face of God." Various series L & H R
July 19, 2008
When you walk through a city with your camera, you feel like a Columbus. Everything is set up for discovery. Mexico City, one of the three biggest cities in the planet. Chaotic moments have also their attraction. The man walks as he talks on the phone, close to the wall trying to get away from the noise. People walk by a puddle were some throw their trash, indifferent to it, barely seeing it, enough to go around it. A man stands outside a miscellaneous store, parked beside a Do not Park sign, eating what he has just bought, maybe his only meal of the day; next to the Coca Cola and Pepsi signs there is a discrete, in contrast, AA sign (Alcoholic Anonymous). A street closed to the Market, where the seller of a stand wears a plastic bag all over his head, what is he thinking? does he want to die, is he asphyxiating? A bus stop: a man looks into the road, in a hurry to catch the bus; a young man passes by carrying his worries; an old man pushing his ice cream cart, selling a treat the same way he used to do 50 or more years ago, the cars zooming by his side; a skinny man just in front, next to an advertisement portraying a delicious, perfect cheese, looks into the ice cream man completely indifferent, like he has seen that image so many times. A sidewalk full of illegal, ambulant, non taxpaying stands with pirate movies, cds, software, were at times there are so many people that one can barely walk through; the road packed with cars that don't move. Photography emphasizes and lets you dwell in the contrasts and ironies of life. 11/03 Ciudad de Mexico serie. L R
The first two photos are from the National Palace; below, the National Auditorium; hotels in Polanco, close to the Auditorium (you can see the orange metro/subway sign); the angel of independence in Reforma-centro; and a hotel close by. 11/03 Ciudad de Mexico serie. L R
The Metropolitan Cathedral in Mexico City is at the Zocalo, the central square, a huge space occupied by history, people and movement. You can have a spiritual cleansing made by an Aztec shaman dancer, who is saving money to buy a golden Rolex watch, or just dreaming about it. You can also find people sitting outside the cathedral fence, with a written add before them looking for a job, doing nothing as they wait; and who says you need much to start a business: have a delicious grilled corncob with mayonnaise and pepper, made on a supermarket cart. Here you are promised to leave awed, not without an impression. 11/03 Catedral Metropolitana serie. L R
July 18, 2008
I love picturing mirrors. It's as if things look different seen through them, always as if things changed color, or place. Even looking into the rear view mirror while driving, or stopped at a traffic light, it all seems more interesting, in a different light, as if seen through a video camera, like a movie. This pictures are Helmut Newton like, taken with another subject, my friend M. He is the subject, I am the observer, my camera is the witness. Or he is the object, the camera the subject, and I the action. All framed by a real frame: a painting, art. Watch the first photo below, in it at the bottom to the right, looks like there is a small moustached man in black appearing like a ghost in the picture. It is not. 10/03 Casa M. serie. L R