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#2024.10.21
Every time I try to look at myself, I don’t see myself—I see my past. What I perceive is a distance, an attempt to hold the present in my hands, like a small bird, and crush it. But there is no bird. There is only anguish and alienation. There’s nothing I can say about myself right now, because the present doesn’t exist.
#2024.10.13
A week ago, I noticed that my handwriting had changed. It wasn’t something I did consciously, but when I looked at my notebook, realized it wasn’t my writing. I mean, I thought it was just a mistake, but now, every time I write, my handwriting changes even more. It gets rounder, more slanted, more like someone else’s, someone who isn’t me. Writing has become a strange experience, as if another person is somehow leaving me messages I don’t necessarily understand.
#2024.10.13
The door to my hotel room seems to breathe. At first, I thought it was the wind, but no, it’s as if the wood itself inhales and exhales, softly, every time I get close. I can feel the rhythm under my fingers when I touch the frame. Some nights I wake up and hear that same sound, but deeper, as if the door were tired.
#umeshu, fixation, 1:1
If we consider the sense of agency in every action we take, does it change anything? Are we changing things? Ourselves? Does it even matter?
#2024.09.21
Yesterday, talking to a friend who was unsure about some decisions he needed to make, I suggested he listen to some of his favorite songs. I told him he’d find the answer there. Music has the ability to connect with deep emotions and influence important decisions. It’s not about acting impulsively, but realizing that sometimes the most genuine answers don’t align with what’s considered safe or practical in modern life.
I’d been doing this—“listening to music to make decisions”—for years without thinking much about it. Then, after an experience in the Heathrow airport lounge, I decided to turn it into a tool I could rely on. It was night, and I was answering emails and thinking about what I wanted for the next few months. At the time, I was assisting a software company creatively. While I was comfortable and optimistic with the roadmap we had, I couldn’t find the time to focus on my own interests and more intimate pursuits. In short, I wanted to do nothing: to have as much free time as possible to explore what I could accomplish.
As I mentioned, I was in the airport lounge, full of doubts. To lift my spirits, I put on a record and, while listening to a particular song, I felt moved and experienced this strange sensation of depersonalization; suddenly, I knew what to do and how to do it.
The next month, I started a new chapter without certainties but, most notably, without doubts. I found myself facing an open, carefree, and fertile landscape, in silence.
#2024.09.21
Ayer, mientras hablaba con un amigo que estaba indeciso sobre qué camino seguir, le sugerí que escuchara algunas de sus canciones favoritas; le dije que ahí encontraría la respuesta. La música tiene la capacidad de conectar con las emociones más profundas del ser humano, llevándolo a estados que pueden influir en la toma de decisiones importantes. No se trata de actuar impulsivamente, sino de entender que a veces las respuestas más genuinas no coinciden con lo que es considerado seguro o conveniente en la vida moderna.
La cosa es que yo llevaba años haciendo esto de “escuchar música para tomar decisiones” sin pensarlo demasiado hasta que, tras una experiencia en el lounge del aeropuerto de Heathrow, lo formalicé como una herramienta personal. Era de noche, estaba respondiendo e-mails y pensando en lo que quería para los próximos meses. En ese momento, asistía creativamente a una compañía de software. Si bien me sentía a gusto y optimista con el roadmap trazado, no podía encontrar un momento para enfocarme en mis disciplinas y exploraciones más íntimas. Quería, en pocas palabras, no hacer nada: tener tanto tiempo libre como fuera posible para descubrir de qué era capaz.
Como decía, estaba en el lounge del aeropuerto, llena de dudas. Para subir los ánimos puse un disco y, al escuchar una canción en particular, me emocioné y tuve esta extraña sensación de despersonalización cuando de repente supe qué hacer y cómo hacerlo.
Al mes siguiente, inicié una nueva etapa sin certezas pero, lo que es más notable, sin inquietudes. Estaba frente a un escenario plano, despreocupado y fértil, silencioso.
#2024.09.15
Dejé las luces encendidas en el hotel para poder ver todo lo que desconozco. Se puede observar lo que no se conoce desde la cama o a ras del suelo. También es posible detenerse en una esquina o subirse a una silla. Cuando se ha visto lo suficiente, basta con apagar las luces y contemplar cómo la luz que entra por la ventana se posa sobre las mismas cosas, desintegrando lentamente sus cualidades distintivas. Algo más: me gusta cuando algo que parecía quieto de repente se cae en mitad de la noche. Parece un intento de escapar de la oscuridad o, quizás, una llamada de atención con la cual no tengo ninguna relación.
#2024.09.15
#2024.09.05
It's getting late, and the windows begin to reflect the inside of the room. I hear a party in the distance, but not too far. I drink coffee on the floor, looking at the cup and the coffee as well. I look at the carpets, the bed, the sheets, and the ceiling. I look at the door and through the peephole as a hysterical girl runs down the hallway. Then, back inside, I notice a pair of dirty socks and underwear lying on the toilet. My hair is completely wet. Then I look at the computer, and it's glitching. I check my emails and finally search for the music library, letting some songs play. I look at myself reflected in the windows and start dancing, with slow and fast moves. It's not just about me but about the light and the dark doing their own thing.
#2024.08.12
What's left for 2024: drawing and writing, painting and writing, resting and writing, traveling and writing, eating and writing, meditating and writing.
# yes e-mail 2
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I get an email with a link to a song, a poem, or a book. Sometimes, someone I don't know writes to reach out and say 'hey'. I imagine an unclear figure extending an arm in the quiet of my living room, surrounded by a mix of darkness and light that gives me chills. Is this what it feels like to be in silence in front of a computer, knowing someone else is too? If one could fly, it might uncover two lonely figures in their apartments, staring at a screen.
Usually, in the morning, I check my inbox like stepping outside to pick up the paper. There's something about this routine that fascinates me. I enjoy checking my email because it has an element of surprise, sparking curiosity when, for example, I see messages from unknown senders or from people I lost contact with long ago.... The email is a tool that keeps things private, a 1:1 relation only seen by those involved. Let's think of this as a breath of fresh air for 2024. I mean, I also get packages from friends or colleagues and the feeling is kinda similar but not quite the same. The inbox shows intimacy, a peaceful silence, and deep exchanges that let one think more than what is considered possible. Every email has the chance to be —or not— answered, reread, replied to again, deleted, or saved in a specific folder.
# 2024.08.12
Varias veces al año tomo un descanso de la ciudad: dejo mi apartamento en Buenos Aires y me dirijo a la zona rural, donde realmente puedo estar sola y pasar por ciertas experiencias que ahora describiré. He estado haciendo esto desde muy joven y ha sido una gran herramienta creativa.
Cuando el sol se pone y me siento fuera de la cabaña, observando cómo las aves regresan a sus nidos y las copas densas de los árboles forman una sola línea negra en el horizonte, los sentimientos se transforman, adquiriendo cualidades fuertes—a veces sombrías y otras veces profundamente liberadoras.
Cuando me permito observar cómo funciona la naturaleza, como si acabara de ser arrojada al mundo, los ritmos y pausas -el propósito divino de las cosas pequeñas y grandes- son implacables.
Cuando llega el amanecer, parece que todo comienza de nuevo. El amanecer se siente como una actuación orquestal. Se levanta un telón (la luz), los animales salen de sus cuevas para interactuar y responder al llamado (orquesta), y el día se convierte en algo que puedo ver y escuchar, percibir (la pieza orquestal). Este re-despertar de los sentidos alivia los sentimientos oscuros y la pesadez de la noche. Es importante notar que ambos son lo mismo visto desde diferentes ángulos, y sólo se polarizan a medida que pasan las horas.
Cuando tomo estas notas, muchas veces me doy cuenta de que no hay nada que entender.
# 2024.07.29
Inspiration can be a secret
# 2024.07.29
The inspiration that comes in the middle of sleep contains the darkness of the night. As we take refuge from the dangers of nocturnal animals or seek shelter and rest after handling a bunch of tasks, the darkness arrives to reveal more intimate and enigmatic aspects of the mind and our understanding of life and ordinary things. The day provides clarity on objects; the light settles on them, and we see what is in the distance. At night we can't see far beyond, indicating that it is time to focus on what is close to us, to look at ourselves from head to toe in front of a mirror, trying to understand what it's all for, and then look within ourselves. It's not that the day doesn't allow it; it's that the night is an invitation: many sleep, human activities cease, and what happens then is behind closed doors. Actions taken in these quiet moments can be secrets, hidden from view.
Every time I take a break from routine, responsibilities, and interactions with colleagues I learn something new about myself. I hadn't used my computer for several days and noticed it while cleaning the studio. I found a pile of magazines on the keyboard, raised my eyebrows, looked at the chair, then back at the magazines, placed them on the floor, and sat down to type this.
#2024.07.16
# 2024.06.23
Can creativity be developed by anyone, or is it an exclusive skill? If, in many cases, being creative involves systematic and regular observation and experimentation, can anyone become creative by trying?
#2024.06.13
The sound of my own footsteps heading back are the most striking sounds while walking through the financial district. In the distance, a siren or a honk is relatively occasional – I must say, when it finally becomes night, finding out from high above that I am completely alone indeed grants me the privilege of being close to strange thoughts… I point through the window at the empty neighboring towers, the streetlights, the few trees, and the avenue, deciding what is right and what is wrong, as if such a thing is possible and then, mentally exhausted, I turn off the lights and Zzz.
From inside, only towers and antennas can be seen, and of course, no stars, because the night sky of big cities lacks them in exchange for other things.
# 2023.05.22
I've been working on a particular figure, and finally achieved it. As I was working on it, I had this thought that whether shapes are considered infinite or not depends on how we look at them, both from a mathematical and creative perspective. The possibilities for shaping and reshaping our visual world are vast and constantly evolving. Just as a thing cannot be the same forever, the flower I watered this morning will not be the same one I will see tonite when I turn off the lights and go to sleep. Even the bed, this night, is different.
# 2024.04.02
Being distant from an object doesn't necessarily imply distancing; it's possible, through subtle gestures, body movements, and mental skills, to work towards closeness. This, too, is an aspect of the imagination.
# 2024.04.01
You should exercise your imagination. Exercise it often, strongly, exercise it better – Exercise it, for instance, by changing the small details in a memory. You can alter the arrangement of colors, the location of a specific object, the outcome or even the beginning of a story.
My first exercise, many, many years ago, was to visualize a flower that came back to life retaining the brown and grayish tones, the brittle and asymmetrical texture of when it was completely dry. The exercise could have ended there but I wanted to draw it, describe it in written and spoken word, and even replicate it with live and dead flowers. When I got bored of this exercise (actually, it was a purely imaginative act), I buried it somewhere in my mind, as if it had never happened. Years later, I was able to exercise my imagination with the same memory but from the perspective of someone who had not considered reviving a flower, and much less, someone who waited for a real flower to dry out on the living room table.
# 2024.02.08
If you half-close your eyes while looking at some images, you can still discern their origin. Similarly, if you partially cover your ears when listening to certain sounds, you can still identify their source. Unique features mark the nature of things, yet they can be replicated. The challenge for people today is to distinguish the original from the replica.
# 2023.11.06
Right now in Florence surrounded by numerous churches and experiencing this phenomenon where bell towers ring simultaneously & one might think there's a kind of counterpoint with all these ringing sounds, silences, and resonances (the latter depending on the listener's location in space) but this pattern is the product of a specific time of day, a call to prayer, a celebration, or even an emergency signal. I have just separated each of the layers and have begun to illustrate them.
# 2023.10.16
Red once more in the studio, during meetings, in private moments, in a friend's voice & on my computer... everything I see is red
# 210, post, image
Illusion of the image is a weapon of massive alienation, emanating from a system that seeks to anesthetize and control the masses through sensory inundation and cognitive fatigue. Authenticity and creativity are being devoured. Ugliness is now a collectible, pocketed asset as beauty fades amidst endless multiplication and replication. As soon as I publish an image is dead to me. That being said, my studio houses an abundance of work and hard drives filled with favorite pieces that will remain in the shadows indefinitely. What I share on-line is merely a fragment of a self-destructing phenomenon. We must reject the false idols of technology and image.
# 2023.05.21
When I'm not at home, I miss my studio. It's not just the physical space I long for, but also the tools that come with it. However, being away gives me the chance to explore new ways of producing. You know, there is this character, 間 (Ma), that refers to the concept of space. It encompasses the pause between objects, the emptiness that gives significance. It's a kind of notion that what is not there is as important as what is. – Perhaps the next time you see your own shadow, try asking yourself where you are and where you are not.
# gtg, antidesign, silence
Find your own path and isolate yourself to do nothing. Slow down. The fast-paced nature of contemporary design has led to shallow and superficial outcomes. Designers are under pressure to deliver quick results, which makes it difficult to come up with truly breakthrough ideas.
So if you are tired, stop designing. Don't be a designer. Don't let your work become a mixed bag of typefaces, gradients and web3 hybrids. When you feel ready, strive for a refined balance that transcends the superficial trappings of design trends... trust in simplicity.
# 2023.04.02
Lately felt a bit overwhelmed by new technologies and given my lifestyle and profession cannot avoid interacting with them... What is the nature of feeling this way? What is the relevance of the contexts that lead me to this mental state? What role does spirituality play in all of this? Can we talk about all of this as if they were the same thing?
# 2022.08.30
Returning to Buenos Aires means returning to my studio. It doesn't matter what happens outside the apartment as long as I can stay locked up, doing my own thing. Confinement is nice; I basically lock myself in and it feels good. Then, when I step outside, it's as if I'm living inside a memory, observing what's going on out there. But nothing surprises me much. Unlike staying in nature, where sensory experiences are primary and worries fade away in the presence of a tree or a setting sun, living in the city allows me to delve deep into my psyche. It's a mind game that we all know too well. Therefore, returning to Buenos Aires is alright. It sets my brain in motion, focused on editorial processes and creating some assets/sketches for interface.
# 2022.08.24
Any genuine object possessing unique characteristics will inevitably bond with a similar object as an equal, just as two flowers growing side by side may unexpectedly intertwine and become something robust and even greater.
# 2022.08.22
At first glance, our connection may seem unidirectional, with me on one side and you on the other. But the truth is far more complex than that. We are linked in a strange and powerful way. It's as if our shared silence has created a palpable bond that transcends physical space and even so, this connection can exist in a purely virtual realm, where even the smallest details can be magnified and appreciated.