It’s so adictive! I’d been in romance with “A brief history of decay”, by E. M. Cioran when I got into Flickr. I haven’t picked up the book even though I miss it and need to finish it again. I need 60-hour days.

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In Mexico City it rains six months a year; we’re right at the worst of it. Besides, it’s cloudy most of the time. And without sunlight, I can’t take my abstract photographs because I use the sun as light source. (I’m not complaining: I love it when it rains!)

A couple of weeks ago the sun was shinning though, and there were few clouds in the sky, so I grabbed everything and went out to the garden, and while my dogs ate pears they get by pushing pear trees, I took some photos I really liked. Here are some of them…

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…we wouldn’t have oil today. (What if they’d said “I wish to be cremated”.)

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What do you need to reinvent yourself? Creativity, decision… and sense of humour.

Three people have proved it to me.

First, my uncles. Uncle Sergio was a concert pianist who played in many places of the World. He and uncle Roberto were also succesful business men (they had a Tour Operator Agency), but when their company started going under because of World events, they closed it and went to India for a few months, but they’ve been in Asia for 15 years as chefs making Mexican food festivals for the very best hotels in India, Singapour, Thailand, China and other Asian countries. They live traveling and they travel living, and in the middle of it all there are enchiladas, tacos, mole and many other delicacies of Mexican cuisine. And the way they laugh about it all, enjoy every day, and their fullfillment are endless, glorious and inspiring.

In these photos, uncle Roberto (with a moustache) and uncle Sergio, both with a chef hat.

Making real tacos (no TexMex).

And they even dress like charros!

The other person in Crusli. Even after a BA in Graphic Design and working in her field she knew what she liked more was making others feel good. So she quit her job, her business, took a specialized course in massage with International certification, then mastered in different techniques and now she does that on her own. And it’s impressive how many people, starting by me, tell her she’s got miracle hands.

And she’s happy.

And she makes others feel good.

And when they ask her why having a BA she does that, she answers because it makes her happy.

And I never cease to be surprised, proud and admire her.

Here in Amsterdam, looking at a painting in the Contemporary Art Museum.

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Why do we refuse our Oil Company (Pemex) and Electric companies to go private?

We’ve been debating for weeks about a feeble proposed energetic reform. On my way home walls are painted saying: “Our oil is ours and we won’t give it to them” (them meaning foreigners), “Oil means sobereignty” or “No to the energy reform and the privatization of Pemex and the Electricity sector”.
But I remember when Telmex, the State’s phone company and the only one there was years ago, was “ours”. I remember the long queues to ask for a phone line and how in the end they always told you there weren’t any available. I remember how when you finally got it, you threw a party to celebrate. And I remember how whenever it broke down, which was often, it took them weeks to come and fix it. I recall as well that the only possible way to make things move at least a bit faster was to lower yourself and bribe them.
I know “our” phone company was sold to Carlos Slim under questionable conditions and that he is now the richest man on Earth. But I also know that now Telmex works. It’s expensive compared with other countries (though it was never cheaper when it was “ours”), but now you don’t have to wait to get a line, and when your phone stops working, which is not often, they fix it quickly needless of a bribe.
Where I live there are power cuts rather often. And they charge me a lot every two months for a lousy service. Everything in my house has to be protected by a regulator or it breaks down. And when I complain I pay a lot and somebody must be stealing power from my line the ones who have to check it are the ones who hang their friends from my line so I pay for their electricity. And I have to go bribe them to come because nobody answers their customers’ service line.
Pemex, “our” oil company is ours… so what? We sell our oil cheaply because its quality is not the best, and then we import expensive petrol (gasoline) and all other oil-related items.
Honestly, I’d rather sell for a fortune those companies to Mexicans who’ll make them work well, with competitive prices —which would be lower than what we pay for today—, even if we ended with four or five more Slims.
And to those who claim that that’ll risk them ending in foreigners’ hands, which means risking our sovereignty, I’d say: think of Irak. We are more at risk by refusing to open them to private money because then, at any time, some country might invade ours by saying we’re trying to kill them with contaminated tomatoes or jalapeños that may be the result of advanced biotechnology developed as means of mass destruction. And they will also say they’ll bring real democracy and will take us to the twenty first century and it’s not an invasion but an action for our own good. And they’ll claim that in order to erase poverty they have to open our industries to all free markets. Again, all for our sake.
So wouldn’t it be better to do it ourselves? We might get some more Mexican billionaires but at least they’ll create far more jobs than what we’re doing with our very obsolete state companies.
And we’ll pay less for better quality and service.
I may not like to say it much but and most people don’t like to hear it but Telmex is better now that it’s Slim’s than when it was ours. And I never felt very much of an owner anyway.
Oh, and by the way, by opening our state companies up, what we’ll be doing is to protect our sovereignty.

In Mexico, the 2006 presidential elections were chaotic. Our society was polarized, there were debates everywhere and everyone had an opinion. Someone told me I should follow the lead of our then President and stop reading the papers so I wouldn’t be so intense and lightened up. I turned it one of my New Year’s resolution and, surprisingly, haven’t broken it yet. However, after almost 18 months, I’ve concluded you can’t get off the world (there’s a comic strip by a brilliant Argentinian, Quino, called Mafalda. In one of the strips her little brother, Guille, says: “stop the world, I want to get off”). But the world is way too big, way to fragile, way to human, way too intense to erase it from my conscience, though I really, really tried.

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I got home and a firefly lighted up right in front of my car. I turned off the engine, got out and sat on a rock. There were over a hundred all around me! On the grass, flying near the trees, over my head… You can only see them during the rainy season, at sundown, for about an hour. It’s like so much beauty couldn’t be everlasting. I thought of Pachelbel’s canon.

I stayed there, very quietly, feeling my soul bursting out. I love that fragile moment when they ligh up.

Eventually I went to get my camera. I had to shoot the pictures with long exposure and high ISO, so I got some weird looking photographs, like the one above.

Macavity’s 14 today. His illness has changed our rutine but he’s still a baby: he plays, kisses us, talks —though less than before. And while I write this he purrs on my arms and tummy, and touches my face with a paw. He looks relaxed, comfy and happy. I’m happy too. This is what I call a perfect moment.

Oh, and because today is such a special day, more so than ever, I gave him three treats. Three. No more, no less.

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I’m not the sum of all my parts.