procession

It is a crazy intermingling of beings, winged devils and rams, fallen angels, big dogs, dragons, mutilated animals and chimeras dancing an interminable bacchanal of impinging music.
The Procession runs inside. Inside the body that is. Within a lace of tissues and organs that make up the landscape. The skull is up there with its million orifices. Tiny bones connect tissues and vertebrae with its enchanted osteoporosis forests. There lie the lungs sad and black after all those years of smoking. The heart, connected beautifully to thousands of veins red and blue runs in a hurry up and down, low and behold. A thoracic cavity is an estranged cave where sadness finds a home and anxiety hides at the wee hours of the morning. Eventually misery and desperation come and find seats in this auditorium as well.

Very low under the fatty seeds of the belly where lots of tiny creatures coexist in a regime of oxymoron and entropy, lies the seat of the reproductive organs. These work mainly at night, but sometimes during the day hurling a party for euphoria and lust coupled with language that drops directly from the brainy tissue up in the hinterlands. Resentment finds itself harbored between the knees or at the tip of the ankles, in ball shaped lactic formations like stalagmites or some other untenable prophecies.

At the end of the procession stands a mix of sheep and oyster. The sheep's head greets everyone at the entrance. The body is a clay oyster finely crafted, with a clitoral inside, its small booted legs hanging in front acting as a carriage.
Quite a site.

Samurais

SAMURAIS

Red and orange brick buildings have remained erect in the city’s quarters.
The land has been moved recently.
I mean it is all landfill. Debris of all kinds of earthquakes and battles. A big pay loader keeps removing the soil where remains of corpses, hundreds of dead bodies are being tossed, like salad… (soil salad).
There is a big rush and we are all running through the streets dirty and wet with mud trampling over arms, heads and legs.
“The soldiers”, they yell “the American soldiers are coming!!” and we all run panic stricken…. Anywhere.
“They were told to wear samurai vests!!!” they keep yelling.

Heads

“After all…loosing ones head shouldn’t be much of a problem…” the doctor said bringing near my bed a woman whose head had been severed and was apparently going to experience the routine surgical operation of putting it back. She (the head) looked at me in rage; she asked how come she had been awakened only to see me.
A metal head with a mechanically operated mouth sat on the next bed talking about the efficacies of the system and how good they, the doctors, were at putting heads back together with bodies.
They showed me how they did it. To illustrate, the doctor brought the head of the sleepy woman close to my hospital bed, strapped her from the dirty rag that covered her eyes and immediately wrapped that same rag around her neck making the stump protruding from her head fit snuggly inside her torso. I mean somehow the doctor managed to place it in a correct position and tied it to the body with the dirty rag. It seemed frankly bloody to me, needless to say lacking of all asepsis.
Later another woman shrieked in joy: “Finally, I’ll get a head my size”… I guess the one she was wearing now didn’t belong to her.
I felt silver spiders crawling in my scalp. Tiny silver spiders, I’d better get rid of them.

Green with Red flowers

The guy in the motorcycle encouraged me to ride the sand waves so I did. I threw myself right on the sand street and the wind swiftly took me as if I was a vehicle, a naked vehicle riding them. I was covering myself with a towel, bashful, when he asked me to throw it away. I saw the cars coming at me, although they never hit me. I was only naked now, my breasts felt the cold soft sand and my legs tasted little grains trespassing the skin boundaries.
We arrived where the gypsies and their circus tents were. We couldn’t stay since we were running after a woman. She took a taxicab and so did we. It was a pity for the gypsies were welcoming and their tents smelled like curry, incense and indecent sex.
We ran to the street and took a taxicab ourselves. I was then him and touched my tits that now were hers. The taxicab driver looked at us suspiciously through his rear mirror. We arrived in the place where the red elevator was waiting for us, gold and brocades with half closing door. It landed us at a place where the walls had been painted green and beautiful colored plastic flowers hanged from the ceiling in the middle of a brass bed frame. There I saw that woman’s head again. The dirty rag strapped on her eyes.

Maggots

As I entered the door a dead bird was thrown in the middle of the wooden floor.
He appeared cold and lacking of all plumage. It was red and yellow which made me pick it up immediately. When I did, its beak broke off. I felt very sorry for the creature and a painful sense of fear grew in my chest. I was alone and nobody knew the bird was dead. I wanted to put it back together so I found a niece piece of wood that looked like a tongue. I took the dead bird and opened its mouth. I inserted the wooden piece inside it and tied it diligently with a yellow rubber band that maintained it correctly in place. Then I introduced a second piece of wood in the shape of the upper part of a bird’s beak and tied it in a similar fashion. Then immediately and with surprise I realized it wasn’t a bird but a dog I was grooming, a big black dog standing in front of me with its long red tongue hanging. I went exploring further into the basement of the house and after entering a petite escalator that took me upstairs I saw the city of New York, its amazing profile looking at me before my eyes. My daughter was dancing in one of the buildings which was pretty unnerving and quite incredible. After she came down we decided to go again to the basement. There fat men with German accents were downloading machines and vacuum cleaners. I asked if there was anything for me to borrow. They said yes in a rather mean tone of voice. They showed me a skirt my friend Sheila had left for me. I was most thankful for I knew a skirt would be of great use in those days and proceeded carefully to open it up and showed it to my daughter. We saw with dismay that it was far too tiny for our bodies and thought it might be good for her cousin. I realized then that the inside of the skirt was full of dead leaf wing shaped insects. I folded the skirt back, though it was too late; the insects had already flown into my body.

mIranda texidor's theory of dreams

Dreams as we know them are concocted in the darkest hours of night.
This strange images and situations take place at first in certain parts of the body that I will describe as follows:

There are various creatures that inhabit our long intestine such as antinomes, centipelors, fluxatias and roamidas.
Other larger creatures inhabit our lungs; this would be small dolphamides and whalophantes, as well as gastrocephalus and amadolifax.
Smaller monsters called gaki who are in charge of devouring all traces of saliva, feces and semen inhabit our kidneys.

These creatures make way through our esophagus at night and begin a crazy dance in which inhabitants of our right and left-brain join them.
They perform all kinds of endeavors of which we have recollection on the early hours of the morning.

Miranda will show an illustrated map of our bodies with the creatures, which inhabit it, and the places in it where they go during dream time, making it easy for the student to
Understand her theory of dreams

MIranda Texidor's Monkey in a box

Miranda’s monkey is a tiny hollering equatorial monkey. He lives in a chest of drawers. It makes its apparition whenever needed, called by a wonderful little tinker bell…
Tin tin, the bell tolls. Out of a drawer, the monkey appears. Salutes the audience, taking off its tiny hat. And extends its hand to the customer. Who immediately gives him a coin. The monkey the proceeds to take out a small paper printed with the faith or destiny of the client. When I met the monkey I was so fascinated by it, he apparently caught that and suddenly turned mischievous. He pulled my hair outrageously without letting go of it. I have to admit that I went into one of the tiny drawers that kept the papers without his consent. I guess that makes him angry. Miranda didn’t do anything to prevent the accident.

(Address us as they, please)

The two Mirandas inform and perform. Two sides of a coin switched in a flip. They mean nostalgia, melancholy and flamboyant behavior.
They do the research, think, stroll down the streets, go on buses, sleep at night and her body is a vehicle that informs their behavior and demeanor.
They are connected to the world. Their identities confine them in certain roles to which Miranda does not want to conform.
They are full of bravado and eccentricity. Fly on their own wings, need no food or car nor money, suffer not and are oblivious to the passage of time, they control nothing and share a passion for the absurd, letting circumstances take over at a moments notice.

Dr. Texidor has no mother or father and nothing rules her. They appear on a whim in the streets or invite a crowd to see them. She shows no attachment except to her guinea pig ("cuy") and her monkey, which she keeps in two nice separate boxes, (see" Cuy in a box" and "Monkey in a box").
Dr. Texidor relentlessly draws and paints, installs her work, and runs all kinds of errands, like getting all her wardrobe. When they arrive they are full of ridiculous statements.
Dr. Texidor can be herself almost all the time in the People's Republic of Ecuador.
They is a site and a sight.
They adore pink roses on a green "tienda" background, flowery tablecloths and Sundays with flies or plastic flowers of all kinds in a bouquet display.
They feel extreme nostalgia for the days when manual labor was most used, an everyday thing. Melancholy for the loss of "sentimental value" in objects and sites dispossessed of human touch.
They engage in the recuperation of paraphernalia and “moments". They assess the observations and act accordingly.

Museum in a box

MIRANDA TEXIDOR’S MUSEUM IN A BOX


It is a box and exists nowhere, it is a room and has a place everywhere, it folds and hides, it is nomad in nature. The somber hours of night when our brains wander to find strange creatures, crazy stories or impossible landscapes are its working hours.

This is Miranda Texidor's Museum in a box.

The Museum has the structure of a procession. The procession takes place on the walls, the floor and on midair. Miranda draws the beasts and takes the little monkey out for a stroll. No apologies when a ten-meter long dog acts as a clock in one of the exhibits. Or when the monkey pulls someone s hair while reading her fortune.

“This person is to the best of my knowledge not capable of running a country needless to say a Museum” said the town’s Mayor. Moreover a box is no place to run a Museum. The Museum of the peoples Republic of Ecuador should be a venerable place where Christ can live with the Magdalene under the same roof without being crucified. Obviously a cross doesn’t fit on a box…

MIranda Texidor's Permit to operate

PEOPLES REPUBLIC OF
ECUADOR

With all the qualifications pertaining thereof to, the Peoples Republic of Ecuador hereby certifies that the below described premises have complied with all the requirements of the national bureau of Laboratories and Museums to operate as a legal facility and it is allowed to the expenditure of spirits and the vending of the following items:

HANDMADE SIGNS
FOOD OF ALL KINDS (including guinea pig)
SEX AND PEOPLE PERFORMING IT
COTTON CANDY
DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES
DINOUSAURS
RHINOCEROUS
VACCINES
GYNECOLOGISTS
BREAKFAST
LONG ISLAND ICED TEA
CUBA LIBRE
FIDEL CASTRO
TOYS AND TRINKETS
DOGS
PLASTIC FLOWERS
PLASTIC TABLECLOTHS WITH FLIES
ETC.


10 OCT. 2005 The President of the Peoples
Republic of Ecuador

Miranda Texidor

¿Quien es la Dra. Miranda Texidor?

La Dra. Miranda Texidor nació en la ciudad de Fretrasburgo el 5 de Noviembre de 1945, por tanto es de signo Escorpión. Sus padres huyeron de persecuciones políticas y llegaron al Ecuador en 1948 cuando la Dra. contaba con apenas tres años de edad. Sus padres fueron el Dr. Pepe Texidor y la señora Mirte Ibiragorritza, ambos catalanes de la casa Texidor letrados en las artes de la psicología, habitúes de las tertulias del Dr. Sigmund Freud y de G.I. Gurdjieff de quienes fueron seguidores y colegas. Después de instalarse en la maravillosa y franciscana ciudad de Quito su padre el Dr. Texidor instaló su consulta psiquiátrica por donde pasaron insignes quiteños de aquel entonces. Por circunstancias adversas de la vida, sus padres murieron, y Texidor tuvo que ir a estudiar con sus familiares en Minas Gerais en el tropical Brazil. Ahi se especializó en ciencias esotericas, así como en crítica y coleccionismo de arte. En ese país conoció a su compañero el Dr. Teófilo Mazembacher especializado en psicología del árbol urbano. Pronto terminó su maestrado así como su doctorado Suma Cum Laude en la especialidad de Crítica del Arte con un grado menor en Psicogeografía. Desde entonces regresó a Ecuador donde ejerce su consulta privada, y es docente en varias prestigiosas universidades. Desde hace algunos años agencia un espacio virtual de arte contemporáneo.

Who is Dr. Miranda Texidor?

M I R A N D A T E X I D O R I B I R A G O R R I T Z A




Dr. Miranda Texidor was born on November the 5th of 1945 in the town of Fretrasbourgh, which makes her a Scorpio. She is the beloved daughter of Dr. Peter Texidor and Madame Mirte Ibiragorritza, both from the region of Catalunya. Both parents were psychologists and frequent visitors at the gatherings of Dr. Sigmund Freud and G.I. Gurdjieff. They constructed their practice in times of anxiety, war and fear. They fled persecution and started a fresh new life in the town of Quito Ecuador where unfortunately they died in a car accident. For various reasons among them being the death of both parents, Dr. Texidor went to live with relatives in Minas Gerais in the tropical lands of Brazil, to that she owes her flavor and flamboyance. She was able to study and get her first degree in esoteric sciences, which was later completed with a degree in Psychogeography and Art collections. She met there the one who would become her partner and companion Dr. Teófilo Mazembacher specialized in the Psychology and treatment of stress in urban trees. Dr. Texidor went back to establish her practice in Quito where she lives and works nowadays combining successfully Esoteric sciences and Critique and is counselor to the president of Ecuador in much of his decision making. She is also founder of the Museum in a Box, an imaginary Museum of Contemporary art in her home country. She psycho maps the land around her and cultivates hobbies as hunting and taxidermy. As of now she is conducting a series of interviews with political personalities as well as cultural institutional authorities in the purpose of understanding their decisions and doings.