Scream in the jello

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two days of cries. different ones. screams of pain and joy. tearing sounds, sounding tears. thrusts, ironically erotic, pathetically dramatic.

1.
throat blown, irritating ideals rip through his flesh. spasms. cries. he rips the air, grasping at things as his lungs and heart puke out his rage. But no one knows where it begins or ends. we are all caught in rapids, begging for respite. from his might. from his plight. fight. fight. we are snorkelers caught in a tsunami of frustration, on a bedrock of gadgets.

as tsunamis do, he will quiet down. rest, it’s soothing and beautiful, torturing also to remember him convulsing two minutes ago. such pain. such maddening pain. until his breathing picks up, his mandibule slaloms, the avalanche is upon us. break, let me break something! FUCK! he cries FUUUUUUUUUUUCK!.

I never saw toys as weapons. I never saw shelves, wheels, tables, vacuum cleaners, as projectiles, then again I had never seen socks dipped in blood either.

It was a night of anger, transformed into terror. He emotional gag reflex had been punched into action, his dam blown, damn blown.

as time went by, particles of fear and anger accumulated the night sky seemed blurrier, our reflexes less willing, our responses less forgiving. the terror had subverted the anger, the outburst turned to “inburst”. what seemed to once be letting go became letting in, letting around, letting into, letting through, caged.

2.
oh my god
she too screamed, but of (forced?) joy. i hadn’t heard (from) her in months. and i wasn’t meant to. the joy was for a friend. another one. the cry crashed into the silence. as a wall might onto a room of jello, unthreatening, “but still.” still. still in silence, still in my silence. so far from the quakes of the previous day. and yet in those cries came similar struggles, thrusts, ironically erotic, pathetically dramatic.

but beautifully chilling none the less. both of them.

Far too long.

It’s been far too long. How many times have you read this on a chernobyl-like blog… left to rot… in the cyberspace… Well, I am in need of writing a few things again, show some work, so I will be posting again shortly, in the mean time, THIS and THIS is where I’ve been for the past two months.

I am graduating next semester and I gotta get things in order. Something you’ll soon get to witness!

 

In the meantime, some sketches:

Processing the process again

Hello, hello, new school year, same intentions, on-going projects, surprisingly, my desire to write up posts is much weaker (perhaps because I don’t have internet at home…). ANYWAYS, here is a bit of work:

 

What you see here is me re-exploring my “windforming” project and coding it all in processing instead of processing+grasshopper originally.

Enjoy!

Self-portraits

 

As of a few days ago, suspenders and their symbolism (functional, but has-been, but not because hipster, but still functional, and could be very serious, but not quite, or at least a little) have given me a lot of fun.

I love them for the same reason I love socks: they are shapes and objects of the everyday, originally meant to be serve a serious, definite purpose, that have become for many loud emblems or quiet indications of their eccentricity and, well the most beautiful of all, they are relatively shapeless until they are worn and used.

In Annecy!

Went to Annecy, a city settled on the end of a beautiful lake, the most impressive sight being swimming in it and turning around to see the mountain rise out of the water. Here are a few pixels from there.