miércoles, mayo 31, 2017

jueves, mayo 25, 2017

A house with a single wall made of thin paper

Bessie Smith - I'm Wild About That Thing (1929)

I am not what I am not

It was while I was living in France when I heard for the first time that I was a non-white.  I was living in a small town next to a lake where my roommate from Brooklyn and I were, according to her,  the only non-white people there. 
"Do you realize that you and I are the only ones who are not white?" She said one day. I didn't understand what she meant, when she noticed my confusion about it she asked "What do you think you are?"  I said "I don't know, Mexican?  a woman?."  And indeed I didn't have an answer to her question because I honestly didn't understand it.  She didn't understand either how come I didn't understand something that simple. I remember how astonished and upset I was for defining myself in a negative way, for being something after not being something.

It was clearer for me when in New York, in SVA I had to filled the paper and specify what kind of non-white person I was.

While I was in New York, I stayed for a while at my former France roommate's place in Brooklyn. In a dinner her mom said to me "Z told me about your reaction when she told you you were non-white, and I was surprised also," then she added "But I think that should be the most natural reaction...we just don't see it anymore."

miércoles, mayo 24, 2017

Lynne Tillman


martes, mayo 16, 2017

There is this certain kind of eraser that erases me. 
It vanishes me.
Only you have it 
And you have used it.

martes, mayo 09, 2017

jueves, mayo 04, 2017

"She whispered the word, but it had the urgency of a shout."

(I adore you, Toni Morrison)

el susurro del grifo