Friday, August 31, 2018

movement

one day, a girl travelled for an extraordinarily long time, on a bus that took ages to get anywhere. next to her, there was a door. when this door opened, as it did every time the bus took a dangerous curve, a gust of memories would flood in and impregnate the bus with viscous feelings. one day, on this bus, there was sex steaming the windows. movie sex and yet uncomfortable, awkward and hilarious. sex that was clear and undisputable. that had them tutting across the aisle. [story unfolds, make up your own] some time later, the bus made an unexpected stop, everybody left, and the girl got on the driving seat. or at least that's what she thought.
Una publicación compartida de Helena Suárez (@ladelentesuy) el

Friday, August 03, 2018

ballenas

voy a mudarme a la costa
y a vivir con las ballenas
que no me confunden
con una roca
con un salvavidas
con un tiburón come-personas
con una luz deslumbrante
con un mar de lágrimas
que no me confunden

Thursday, August 02, 2018

4.49am

in this diary... so old. so battered. so on and off.
here i record, remember, fantasise my life's matter(ing)s.
i re-write-create myself. iteratively. error-prone.
(thank you, Butler)

one day you came in, you looked around and it seemed like you might just stay. but, no.
my heart almost exploded.
i was folded inside out. literally. at 4.49am.




Wednesday, August 01, 2018

moonstruck

so, then. fragile equilibrium. checking for signs. holding on, holding back, holding my breath. there is nowhere near enough time in the world to tell you every story I can trace for you, but I will try.
Una publicación compartida de Helena Suárez (@ladelentesuy) el

Tuesday, July 17, 2018

a bottle of mineral water

upside down steps. upside down elephants. upside down walls.
a bottle of mineral water rests -vibrating ever so slighty-
a monument to the endless possibility for upheaval

Monday, June 25, 2018

quiero

i want to tell you stories
and discuss important things
interlace
render
go deep web

Sunday, March 11, 2018

tableau

a hole in the ground of unfathomable depth, its shining light pulsing you inevitably in. a brilliant smile, uncomprehending. the precise definition of the concept of dissociation. and a question hovering over the edge of consciousness and despair: where did the Calvinor Blush times go?

Sunday, February 04, 2018

just-ice

i know it isn't all darkness, gloom and cold. i know. i know. but it's just that the idea of justice, sometimes, a lot of the times, seems like the cruelest of human inventions.

Sunday, January 07, 2018

metaphor

i once saw a window being slowly closed down, completely, brick by brick. one on top of the other. slops of mortar. more bricks. a man working fast. distressing to watch, this closure, this erasure. this end. later, i walked past the smoothed surface, double take. the window's presence a mere memory, that will surely fade.

Thursday, December 28, 2017

swimming pool

when i was a child there was a swimming pool. under an invisible pine tree. surrounded by slippery slopes. when. i. when. if it was easy to write about it,... there is something about the blue glittering surface, trees upside down, fallen clouds, birds trapped in a circle. maybe you can go there, spend time underwater. hold your breath and count 10, 9, 8,... if it was easy to leave, i would.

Saturday, October 28, 2017

shining stars

we used to. shine, yeah.
we had sparkling conversations in glitzy bars. brilliant ideas. dazzling friends...
on radiant summer days, yes.
we were building a bright future. we would show them.
glowing reviews.
incandescent.
somethings were glossed over. some things. dullness.
lost in the luminosity of our stories.
you were not even a glint in your mother's eye.
and we blazed away, particles out in all directions.
until all that was left was the shimmering embers of our golden past.
Una publicación compartida de Helena Suárez (@ladelentesuy) el

Monday, August 14, 2017

headache

this. words on a screen. headache. cloudy skies. a Norse God. novacalamina. tiny figures of either floating behind your eyelids. tight stomach. your present absence. a funereal pyre for future playful imaginings. altar of masculinity. a single rivulet of blood streaming down your legs. desolation. de-solation. the end of solitude. of sunshine. of walks between bars. patched together, frayed. we once joked about your triumphal arrival, angel song, arc of triumph, welcome wreath. I'll remember you there, floating just above the land, making stories with your tightened strings.

Monday, July 10, 2017

goodbye

Untitled
you came and filled the space. quite literally.
we played eighties songs.
(yes, i did know all the lyrics, and, yes, you laughed)
we discussed nuts. nuts!
i made your Facebook page.
you fixed my lights.
we summoned empanadas for bedtime.
and invented dulce de leche wraps.
we once watched Batman vs Superman.
all.
three.
hours.
i liked testing techniques on your endless back.

no, you were not the one for me...
but I'll miss you.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

week 2


sad heartbeat tears eyes
headache heartache pressure
hurt strong energy
love pain manipulation

Friday, March 10, 2017

collage

Una publicación compartida de Helena Suárez (@ladelentesuy) el
the question was: is collage a feminist art form? well. it is feminist if it's intention is to highlight, trouble and destroy the unjust hierarchy of gender structures that assign different roles to bodies read as masculine and bodies read as feminine, binary bind. it is art if it claims a place in the cannon. or is it that simple?

collage is: different things assembled together - images, sound, time. textured. tactile. sticky. cut & paste. time passing in the making, in the viewing. the experience of it.

collage is, like life itself: different things assembled together. you pick and choose and then you give them meaning.

40s and beyond
guilt never stops!
'you never know what's round the corner'
stand up, speak up. without leaving the house!
is there heartbreak ahead, after This Life?
my share of tragedy. my biggest regret is I didn't have more. summer fruit crumble.
(I feel the most beautiful when I'm dancing with my friends)