Love Poems

Just to keep my english speaking friends posted, I will be performing Miranda Texidor´s Love Poems in Plaza de la Independencia Quito on Thursday August 31 at 10:30 am. And then in San Francisco, California, at Casa del Libro 973 Valencia Street on Friday September 8th at 7 pm. Come over. Don´t miss it!!

Poemas de amor el Jueves

Miranda Texidor estara repartiendo poemas de Amor y cartas de recomendacion el dia Jueves 31 de Agosto del presente a las 10:30 de la mañana en la Plaza de la Independencia, de Quito como parte de sus acciones colaborativas. No se la pierda!!!

Mesa...que mas aplauda

Martes 22 de Agosto fue la primera Mesa. Yo no tenia expectativas y deje al chance y al azar lo que pueda suceder. Los candidatos Cesar MOntufar y MArcelo Larrea llegaron un poco mas tarde, pero todo bien, Susana Wappenstein dio una vision de su postura desde la politica No formal, mientras que Cesar y Marcelo desde digamos que lo mas formal. Los dos han sido descalificados. Estabamos : Marcelo Larrea, Susana Wappenstein, Jossie Caceres, Victor Hoyos, JOrge Espinoza, Eva, y Yo MIranda Texidor una servidora. Para mi la pregunta mas interesante era: desde donde hacemos ciudadania los artistas, como nos involucramos en los procesos y como propiciamos la participacion de la comunidad?
Como siempre me quedan mas preguntas que respuestas y que bueno que asi sea porque asi seguiremos preguntando!!! Lo de la comida para compartir como que no funciono tan bien. Creo que la proxima vamos a preparar todos los alimentos y bebidas juntos. Esto no es una Mesa formal es un lugar para compartir y dar. Les espero en la proxima!!

Vuelta al Sucre

Unos candidatos dicen que quieren volver al Sucre, otros que sería un desastre. Yo siento nostalgia por El Sucre, aunque lo despedí como se debía, con entierro en el Cementerio de San Diego en la tumba del Caudillo, soy creyente del Tao y lo que venga sera lo que deba venir. Lástima que no tenemos aún alguien como Evo Morales, pero ya vendrá, ya vendrá...Solo tenemos que trabajar y...creer en lo que podemos hacer. Sin naufragar frente a Manta.

otros mas

Todos han inscrito ya su candidatura, el que más y el...que menos.
Unos pierden la esperanza otros aun la conservamos. Unos se van ...y naufragan...otros volvemos...
y remamos.

Fechas de la Mesa

Estan invitados a participar de la Mesa
el día Martes 22 de Agosto 2006 6 pm
La segunda Martes 26 de septiembre de 2006 a las 6 pm también
Y... La tercera es la vencida: Martes 10 de Octubre de 2006 esta es la Mesa de la Inauguración de la muestra Primera y segundA Vuelta a las 7 pm

Todo esto en El Conteiner de el Pobre Diablo www.elpobrediablo.com
Isabel la Catolica Y Galavis esquina.

No olviden de traer un vinito, y algo de pícar. Si no un juguito...

Corriendo

Para hacer memoria, este es el ex Presidente que votamos. Se iba corriendo...
Dejaríamos que vuelva a ser Presidente? Para votarlo de nuevo? Otra memoria...
un fragmento del olvidado Himno Nacional:


"Nadie, oh Patria, lo intente.
Las sombras de tus héroes gloriosos nos miran,
y el valor y el orgullo que inspiran
son augurios de triunfos por ti.
Venga el hierro y el plomo fulmíneo,
que a la idea de guerra, y venganza
se despierta la heroica pujanza
que hizo al fiero español sucumbir".

(Sustiuir "español"por cualquier otra variación de "tirano")

Jose Tobar

Este es Jose Tobar, cualquier parecido es mera coincidencia.
Jose, publicista politico de larga trayectoria hizo una presentación interesantísima para el proyecto Primera y Segunda vuelta que estamos cocinando para la Primera vuelta electoral en Octubre.

No son todos ni estan todos

Estos son los candidatos para Presidente de nuestra Repùblica Popular del Ecuador. A mi sobre todo me gusta Marcelo Larrea que usa un colmillo de tigrillo colgado en el pecho como indicio de que un shaman le dijo que ganaria. Marcelo nos devolverìa al Sucre y daría una plataforma a los creadores...o creedores.
La otra es Cynthia ¨la Bella¨ ex reina de la Perla del Pacifico, sería la primera mujer presidenta del Ecuador. Debemos recordar que Condi Rice tambien es mujer y de color y no por ello deja de ser una de las mas fieras reaccionarias del gobierno de Mr. Bush. Como decía Amy Goodman en KPFA alguna vez ¨El hecho de tener un sistema reproductivo femenino, no determina nuestra ideología¨. Es verdad que Cynthia gobernaría de otro modo, pero...atrás de ella esta el PSC en pleno.

For the Eglish speakers, two of the candidates. Marcelo and Cynthia. Cynthia far right, ex Miss Guayaquil and model, Marcelo invested by the indigenous as a shamanic prophecy. Who to vote for? Tough decision?

Mesa...

(… que Dios y la Virgen bendigan al Ecuador…discurso navideño Lucio 2004)





Es una propuesta para una serie de colaboraciones con grupos sociales e individuos que busca propiciar un conversatorio, una obra que genere y documente el proceso electoral en su cotidianidad y como lo vivimos los ciudadanos.
Mi idea es generar cuatro mesas redondas en donde se converse como en un almuerzo o cafe de la tarde de la ciudad de Quito. Mis invitados seran gente comun y corriente, el taxista, la empleada domestica , el ama de casa, musicos, teatreros, tambien artistas que no necesariamente tienen obra politica, sociologa, sicologo, politologo, ingeniero, panadero, educadora, etc, etc. Me he puesto en contacto con gente de Clave Democratica y Ruptura 25 para invitarlos a participar. Quisiera invitar a Radio la Luna, especialmente a Paco Velasco y-o Ataulfo Tobar, para que pódamos tener una tribuna ciudadana conectada el dia de la apertura del proyecto.
Quisiera que esta sea una obra de proceso en donde necesariamente habran errores, momentos interesantes y momentos que hasta parecerian un fracaso, al no ser esta una obra que termina en un bonito afiche ni en una fotografia, ni siquiera en una pieza terminada. Es una obra que puede tener continuidad , de hecho puede seguir hasta cuando concluyan los procesos electorales, que parte de la nocion de esteticas relacionales, de generosidad y colaboracion entre una comunidad. Los participantes seran invitados a traer algo de comer o beber para compartir, por ejemplo: sanduches, ensalada, papitas, chochos, vino, cerveza, jugo, torta de chocolate, etc.
La s conversaciones seran documentadas con texto y dibujo, con fotografia y video cuando sea posible. Toda esta documentacion será mostrada el dia de la apertura de Iera y 2nda vueltas.
Yo sere la anfitriona, como Miranda Texidor (personaje creado por mi como heteronimo), y servire unos traguitos con nombres de las campañas electorales, para incentivar la conversa, por ejemplo: PAN TECHO Y EMPLEO , o ADELANTE ECUADOR EDELANTE, etc. como anfitriona propiciare de la conversacion amena y la conducire lo major posible, es decir, planteare ciertas inquietudes politicas, socials y artisticas, pero si la conversacion se va hacia otro lado, tambien será bienvenida.

En fin, me interesa encontrar tanto el optimismo como el desmayo, no tengo una obra preconcebida por delante, mi intencion es crear un espacio de reunion y colaboracion.

el "loco"

This is Abdala "el Loco" which we ousted some years ago. He used to appear dressed as Batman and was a fan of Lorena Bobbit. remember her? Now he is backing another candidate...eat the cake, cook it, and keep it!

PRIMERA Y SEGUNDA VUELTA

This is a project curated by art critic Ana Rodriguez, Pepe Aviles, Manuel Kingman, Experimentos Culturales, among others. The space will be El Conteiner, which you can check out at www.elpobrediablo.com
And at www.experimentosculturales.org

There are many questions we are asking ourselves now as the electoral process begins (in Ecuador).
Do we just exercise our democratic rights when voting? Do we need all the macho rhetoric and the superhero demeanor of our candidates? And my question…what is the role of the artist in Ecuadorian contemporary society?

My project MESA, which means Table, wants to engage the audience in conversation between different partners, sociologists, psychologists, politicians, artists, homemakers, cabdrivers, you name it. The conversation will be around the themes mentioned above, but not necessarily. As in a dinner table, Ecuadorian families discuss, sometimes heatedly about politics, and then go onto some other theme. I will be the host, dressed graciously as an Ecuadorian secretary. Guests will be asked to bring something to eat or drink to share. I will be serving drinks with the logos of the political campaign “Pan, techo y empleo”, “Adelante, Ecuador, adelante”, Dejenlo Volver” etc.

MIRANDA TEXIDOR GOES TO THE PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF ECUADOR


This is the last of my texts in English for now. I will be writing in Spanish since I will be going back to the People’s Republic. I will be doing a series of street performances of Miranda Texidor’s Love Poems and circus. I will be performing the Love Poems at Casa del Libro, 973 Valencia Street, San Francisco 94110, on September the 8th. All the street actions I will be conducting in Quito will be random. I will post pictures.

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.