My therapist asked me to write three letters to my father: with angry, hope and gratitude. I wrote three poems instead. Maybe, they will let you with a bitter taste, like a dry sadness. November marks the twentieth anniversary of his departure.
Mi terapeuta me ha pedido que le escriba tres cartas a mi padre: con rabia, esperanza y agradecimiento. Me salieron tres poemas. Todos tienen un sabor un poco amargo, como a tristeza seca. En Noviembre se cumplen veinte años de su partida.
Time can be defined as a succession of events. We framed our lives within hours, days, months and years. Yet, only the conscious mind is capable of understanding this impalpable phenomenon. We know that day is lightness and night is darkness, no matter the context. Even if you don’t like change, time passes (as an […]
El tiempo se puede definir como una sucesión de eventos. Enmarcamos nuestras vidas en horas, días, meses y años. Sin embargo, solo la mente consciente es capaz de comprender este impalpable fenómeno. Sabemos que el día es luz y la noche es oscuridad, sin importar el contexto. Incluso si no te gusta el cambio, el […]
It was September 15th, 2019, and the historic Kottbusser Tor parking lot was transformed into a resonant body. For 60 minutes we witnessed a furniture music concert: the concrete framing the space, time and sound. Marc Augé‘s ‘no-places’ were filled with the musique concrète of Eli Keszler as part of the cycle Disappearing Berlin. “Furniture […]
After my dad died, my world crumbled. It was the first time that I recognised a depressive episode, although, I didn’t know that I was experiencing one. My will to live to the fullest disappeared. I come from a family deconstructed by a severe history of domestic violence and a lack of emotional connection. We […]