Scene Nº 7

Open the door now.
Go roll up the collar of your coat
To walk in the changing scarf of mist.

Tell your sins here to the pearl fog
And know for once a deepening night
Strange as the half-meanings
Alurk in a wise woman's mousey eyes.

Yes, tell your sins
And know how careless a pearl fog is
Of the laws you have broken.

Carl Sandburg, "Pearl fog".

Scene Nº 6

Scenawry is fighting to survive! I like trying to resurrect things of my past, even if I'm beating a dead horse, I like to try.
This is another heartbeat, and a thankful blink/song for M.:



We live on a mountain
Right at the top
There's a beautiful view
From the top of the mountain
Every morning I walk towards the edge
And throw little things off
Like:
Car parts, bottles and cutlery
Or whatever I find lying around

It's become a habit
A way
To start the day

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you

It's early morning
No one is awake
I'm back at my cliff
Still throwing things off
I listen to the sounds they make
On their way down
I follow with my eyes 'til they crash
Imagine what my body would sound like
Slamming against those rocks

When it lands
Will my eyes
Be closed or open?

I go through all this
Before you wake up
So I can feel happier
To be safe up here with you.

Bjork, "hyperballad".

Blog inactive due to lack of resources

Tonight, the night of september the 8th, I came back to my house from work and found that people broke into my house and stole some goods out of it while I was working. Could have been during the morning, afternoon or night, because I'm some kind of a workoholic animal, of some sort. One of the things stolen was my laptop with all of my visual artworks since 2003 plus the programs I developed for generating images using genetic algorithms and L-Systems, my ex-professors in university have one of the last backups, so I can recover one of the last versions of my programs, but not the last improvements, nor my images or artworks, not the ones that I made and didn't posted yet, they are around 15, possibly lost forever. Again, the most painful thing to lose are my "seeds", all the math data of every image, from where I evolve the next generation, last time I lost that was because of a disk failure, in 2007, now this. I use to forget backups, because I'm an airhead.
I also lost pictures, videos, schedules, grades and sheets from my students, etc. and my e-mail database with all my e-mails and phone numbers since 2002, so if you are one of my contacts, bare with me until I recover all the data that I can, may be I'll ask you some data yet, if I can find you. Aside from that I'll have to be using a freaking web-mail interface for work, which I hate because I prefer an e-mail client, and will not have any history of previous e-mails, but well: being robbed sucks.


The blogs will be inactive until I can work on this somehow, and restart producing images. This is a space that I appreciate a lot and eventually, I'll be back somehow.
Until then.

Scene Nº 5

An improved version of the previous, now with cloud's shadows on the ground.

Scene Nº 4

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter — bitter," he answered;

"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

Stephen Maria Crane, "In the desert".

Scene Nº 3

I climbed the barren mountain,
And my gaze swept far and wide
For the red-lit eaves of my father's home,
And I fancied that he sighed:
My son has gone for a soldier,
For a soldier night and day;
But my son is wise, and may yet return,
When the drums have died away.

[...]

Confucius, "The soldier".

Scene Nº 2

[...]

Worn with the fever of unrest,
And spent with years of eager quest,
Beneath the vaulted heaven they stood,
Pale, haggard eyed, of garb uncouth,
The seekers of the Hidden Good,
The searchers for Eternal Truth!

[...]

Around their dreary winter world
The great ice-kraken dimly curled
The white seas of the frozen zone;
And like a mighty lifted shield
The hollow heavens forever shone
On gleaming fiord and pathless field!
Behind them, in the nether deep,
The central fires, that never sleep,
Grappled and rose, and fell again;
And with colossal shock and throe
The shuddering mountain rent in twain
Her garments of perpetual snow!

[...]

Emma Alice Browne, "In hoc signo vinces!".

Scene Nº 1

With thee, in the Desert—
With thee in the thirst—
With thee in the Tamarind wood—
Leopard breathes —at last!

Emily Dickinson, Nº 209.