Last night we were filming at an old elementary school near Munhyeon. I guess it was built in the decade after the war. It looked like a hoarder of cardboard squatted there. There were bundles of cardboard everywhere. One of the PAs told me the school had been abandoned for about a decade in the 60s or 70s. A lot of things were hidden under black dust covers. As we were shooting in the small atrium, I heard unusual noises. I walked down a dark hallway and entered the classroom from where I thought the noises were coming from. The classroom was empty except for chairs and desks. The noises seemed to be coming from the ceiling. Water pipes most likely.
I leave the location after 11 to catch the train home. Once in bed I fall asleep quickly. I am back in a boulder field in the Andes, with the laguna behind me. I meet my oldest brother and he makes a remark that upsets me. I sit and wait and look towards La Posada. My old dad appears and then we’re in his taller (the one he had by the big window before the one he built by the white higuera). He asks me to follow him to the backyard. The old adobe walls are now brick and elaborate. They remind me of the columbarium walls of Cementerio General. White squids hang to dry like sad socks beneath red brick Gothic arches. There’s a staircase, and he tells me there’s treasure if I follow it down to the catacombs. I wake up con corazon pesado. Outside is drizzling and gray.
A cat named Karen~ respuesta de memoria
Madre: Lo unico del pequeño bullshit de tu parte, era que era una de esas casa super antiguas. Subimos por una escalera oscura y angosta hasta el segundo o tercer piso y ahi entre varias piezas habia una con la puerta cerrada. En la pieza vacia habia una mama con varios gatitos chicos y una ventana abierta que daban a los techos. (en todo caso por no saber de naturaleza, jamas aprendio a escalar arboles).
En Los Andes, la casa y patio eran tan grande para ella despues de haberse criado en una pequeña pieza it somewhat freaked her out y se mantuvo en la cocina en alto, sobre mesones, sobre refrigerador, por eso aprendio tan rapido a abrir el freezer.
guerra civil chilena del 1891 (revolucion de 1891) congress and the navy revolt against president balmaceda and the army. congress wins, and balmaceda commits suicide. vicealmirante jorge montt assumes power.
steve maccurry and the afghan girl (npr audio).
dream. june 27/28-2015. z swarm.
we live in a white house by the sea. from the window i see a bay like that of gohyon. flags line the waterfront. the sky turns golden as dusk begins. i hear the warning sirens go off on the warships anchored at the mouth of the bay. i tell my dad we need to buy bottled water in case the taps go dry. i feel we should board up the windows too but he doesn’t think it’s necessary. i go outside. it’s peaceful and many people have gathered quietly on the road next to the ocean. they seem to be waiting for something exciting, beautiful or terrifying like an eclipse or the end of the world. the sky turns purple and blue but there are clouds to the west that remain bright. the lights are out in every house. i’m told the flags will change soon. i look at the white navy destroyers assembled at the edge of the bay and they look deserted and lifeless. i go home to wait. there are no lights on inside my house. my dad chops garlic in the dark with his back to me. his head is bowed so low he appears decapitated. the window blinds are shut but some blue light filters from the bottom of the window frame. then i hear the window glass crack as if a bird had kamikazed it. more things start crashing outside and cracking the windows. the cracking of the glass is followed by the fluttering of scaly wings and things trying to get in. little mutalisk break through the glass and rip through the blinds. some of them get tangled on the blinds and drop on the floor and crawl toward us using their wings.
나는 은행에 갔다. 나는 아이스아메리카노를 마셨다. 나는 학원에서 일했다. 나는 강변에서 자전거를 탔다. 나는 책을 읽었다.