Sunday, February 28, 2010

just learned today, that not only is it really counter to any leaning you may do on your terrace or any surrounding area of your home, but that also, at least in madrid it, is illegal to feet the pigeons. here is me doing my part recording the destructive practice of pigeon feeding...




thankfully i wasn´t forced to break the law for this shot...

Saturday, February 27, 2010

the first step in the experience that has brought many great - and difficult - moments, we had to make a trip to l.a. to visit the spanish consulate. neither one of us was completely prepared to deal with the varying regulation of the consulates and we returned to the house of a friend with empty hands and very heavy minds, burdoned by the thought of not getting the paperwork completed in time. during our stay there, papa lehr brought us out for a drink on the pier in san clamente. the following is a series of surf photos taken while we watched the sun set over the side of the pier towards san juan capestrano.














































at least he was able to swim.

Friday, February 26, 2010

not so many minutes to hours ago, my parents returned to their hotel after a pizza dinner, at what used to be chez jimi, and i shortly there after headed to the nouveau chez jimi for a few drinks and then a night slowly towards the northeast before the final southwest. i had never heard of liniers, the argentine cartoonist. just above the keyrack, on the wall of what was the home of the uraguayan musician, jorge drexler, is a drawing by this artist helping to protect the keys from any king of danger. here is one of the pics of the ghosts that guard the keys.







my father and in the reina sofía,
a place where guérnica seems to
bring tears for some, but not always
for the same reasons.
self-portrait.
22 feb 2010

Friday, February 12, 2010

I don't want to clean

.

I have cleaned, again and again,

each part of my external eye

with the sweet saline of a cry

only to see it will need to be cleaned

again.

I have also cleaned, with the same

frequency, the part seen through my eye.

Wet, drenched, and sopping; with its trouble

it slugs, burdened, through my new, internal sea.

Tell me that my eyes are not

the only to see what looms ahead,

nor what weighs, like a plow, behind.

Were these tears not caused by the future,

forged in the fires of past mistakes?

My heart begs that neither is too true,

that neither is our present.