Category Archives: spiritual

Tears of anger



No words



Quetzal’s thoughts

I’m having a bit of troubles with the coloring techniques and materials for my first approach to the bird for the body painting. As you know, I usually do a lot of shadowing to blur sharp lines and mark limits, but I find it complicated to do with the creamy make up spread on skin.

So I changed my first idea a bit and created a new model with cuts (negative spaces) instead of lines.

So this is a sketch of my final idea (without cuts):


And how I think it’d be easier to do it on painted skin (cuts):


What do you think? Please note that this are both very raw.

prompt: the cause of inter-human social conflict


prompt ‘what is the TL;DR of any major conflict to ever happen?’


    people got angry.

    anger turned to violence.

    violence lead to unexpected and deviant abuse/proof of power.

    unexpected abuse created popular confusion.

    confusion begat corruption emulating and reiterating upon the empowered behavior.

    corruption inspired anger.


    anger turned to violence.

    violence was placated by bargaining.

    bargains/deals became bankrupt by optimism, and a perception of deception.

    deception leads to allegations of fault.

    fault leads to defensive escalation and scapegoating.

   scapegoating either leads to acceptance of circumstance as due to a specific fictitiously unreliable party which leads to a golden age. or rejection of the established culture.

    culture rejection leads to cultural innovation, tending towards alien/foreign concepts shifting: idealism vs humanism, individualism vs collectivism, and the style of the implementation.

    cultural innovation leads to competition of method capacity.

    competitive method leads to pride in culture.

    pride in culture leads to pushing people to be ‘better’.

    ‘bettered people’ grow resentful and angry


… i haven’t posted on here for a while, but i feel this is appropriate. i’m not sure if it is complete or valid. let me know if you find something to add, or if i’m being presumptive and need to take something out.


warning: this post is annoyingly personal and contains a lot of the usual lovelylollipop’s drama lol

*sigh*  I’m kind’a back, not really but I feel the need to speak/write something, I have been avoiding it on purpose, mostly out of a huge sentiment of guilt, spiced up with some shame and more guilt 😛

where were we last time?  I think it was when I traveled to Mexico City (I’m from Guatemala) when things started to mix and mess in my real life. Coming back was hard and mostly complex but the change was done and aside of long work hours things were looking okay the first month (october). I came here to fix Zara’s legal status as her dad is mexican and needed to resign custody for me to have the freedom to move around and travel with her… which basically meant she left my country ilegally (dad needed to sign her out of Guatemala but he couldn’t)… we cross the river 😛

anyway, that’s not why I stopped writting/drawing, at first the pause was due to lack of means, I mean, either I had no laptop, or internet acces, then I had no time (two shifts at work) and the lilk time I had, I used to be with family and talk to Leny (text via phone)… but the reason I stopped writting was cuz Leny and I ended up our relationship, and about that, I just have to say that it was all on me and I’m still not over it.

So, I’m sorry about the long pause and I’m even more sorry cuz I’m selfish enough to come back the minute I feel the imperius need to share and write, so feel free to give me the finger and pass over this 😛 seriously I understand and there no harsh feelings 🙂

Zara is great, happy as ever and Lily ended up being a male cat instead of a girl cat as formerly thought, so the cat is huge and he is still named Lily… I’m happy and missing yall as hell.

Lots of hugs to all 🙂


this model will be performed in bodypaint the next May 30 at the 7mo Encuentro de Maquillaje Corporal Fonanbules en el Centro de Mexico Contemporaneo by yours trully. It’s possibly one of the few things I’ve done this past 6 months.  Represents a kite, the theme of the show is “Language ann tongues” and my concept is about the giant kites that are elevated to the sky on Novemeber first in Guatemala, it’s called “Words to the Gods” cuz our kites are used to send “telegrams” either to deities or ancestors in the sky.


Tagged , , , , , , ,


IMAG4014-1-1_20140223152055233The feelings are overwhelming.

Certain incidents wound a person more deeply than others and these can not be handled by traumatic incident handling alone. These are those incident which, while accompanied with tremendous emotional pain, hit us so directly as beings that they scar our souls. Personal betrayals by a friend or lover, unexpected attacks from a trusted source, cruelty and violence that shatters our confidence in our own capacity to direct the course of our own existences, are among the types of incident that can damage us this directly.


I guess healing is a journey, not a destination with warm blankets and chocolate where you get to rest a long while.  If you never get healed, is there a point of making the journey.  Shouldn’t you just revel in the pain and let yourself die?  Should you, instead of drinking the poison of hope?

header take 1

header take 1

So I finally made some dvance on the header, this is my first attempt/proposal. I like the vintage feel of the piece.

What do you think?

Tagged , , , , ,

Become the Darkness


I knew it would come when I found this patch of grass just far away enough from the crowd.  It felt like velvet against my skin.  It smelled like the desperation of summer trying hard not to be outdone by fall.  It was wonderful and I knew sleep would come. The sound of the wind and waves clashed with the children’s laughter to cacophonously clashed to create a collision between reality and a nightmare.  In dreams it lurked as it pleased.  So tired, my eyes rested on the reflection of the sun in the waves.  Like glitter, like stars, like darkness, like shadows, like it.  Like the smoke demon that always lurked above my head.

(Read More Here)



In the place I call mine, the nation that saw me born I’m invisible, I have been owned and discarded so I’m not longer valuable, not a cherishable asset, just damaged merchandise, outlet material. My hair should be cut short as a sign of my position, not longer a female. My hair is a defiance to tradition and culture, as unwanted /unworthy I dont have the right to wear my hair, as its a symbol of feminity.

Here a different patriarchal system has evolved, the way I look erase away all flaws and errs, a cult of beauty grants me a place as coveted trophy, a piece of status, a soft and empty display of pure decoration. A fashion facade. I’m not invisible or rebellious, my political stance doesn’t matters, my thoughts and ideas overlooked, muffled by tan skin and gypsy eyes.

What do I want to be? Do I worth something without social qualifications? Who gets to measure my worth?

I chose to be defined by his eyes and his heart.

Posted from WordPress for Android

Tagged , , ,

Rise Dark Spirit


rise again

not from ashes

but from the burnt pieces

like forged iron

be strong

not blown away

I long for, I long for
I long for my home
I long for a land where
No man was ever known

With no neurosis
No psychosis
No psychoanalysis
And no sadness

I’ll pick up the pieces
I’ll carry on somehow
Tape the broken parts together
And limp this love around

PJ Harvey