SCIENCE FRICTION or a couple weeks’ notes

23 February 2017

• Breakfast’s baked beans with fried egg on top, skating orange, toasted rye bread and coffee too… they all come with me on this bus to the city; then a train, then half an hour car ride to arrive at the same spot we are already, greit! Lets keep it rolling!

• Last time I was in Lisbon, a couple days with Bernie drafted this bit:

To see to drink to write.

Got sit got drunk got written.

While the kid gets here, LIFE passes by… “home” on the side of a truck.

To eat to drink to laugh.

Got eaten got drunker got laughter.


Tears of joy over the face of friendship

• The sprouted teenagers at the back of the bus – and they always go at the back – talking loudly; it would be annoying if they didn’t laugh but they laugh loudly aswell. Laughter is a present to yourself and to the world. gashô

• Pine trees on a yellow ground. Dark faded green and brighter yellow, can’t get tired

• Restaurant sign Dora’s little seed, wonderful!

• Magic, every time, entering the city through this high batom-bridge

• Noticed a diagonal through the river, wonder if it’s where both shores meet. Small waves

• Delivered gift, breif phone call with Dani… dear Dani, inner smile kiss-kiss-underground, ticket bought, couple fags, a cute puppy and we’re moving again; on rails now

• Hon Shirabe / Basis to Enlighment in the shuffle soundtrack. Trains man, you’ve got to love trains. Shakuachi massage to the soul

• Things pass by and I remain still, yet I’m moving too. A cloud allows the monk to stop looking at the moon

• Factory called “grief”

• Feel so calm right now… what a contrast with the past few days

• Town called “swimming pool”, ha ha ha greit

• I shamelessly look at all the women’s asses, follow the folds on their clothes. I hold them all, for a little bit, on ma mind. Then they vanish

• This music has as much silence as it has music. I guess that’s one silly reason it helps widening the gap between​ thoughts… and entering a sleep like state. Jodorowsky wrote that when one wipes out the intellect, one sleeps, one enters the Universe

25 February 2017


• Bunch of days, rushing to rebirth, how are you my dear friend?

26 February 2017

• Bought a new printer with 4 years extended warranty and ample refillable cartridges

27 February 2017

• Prep of the stills and video is done. We have started cleaning the new space, some montage, some geeking, some dreaming

• About to leave, we’re in need of paper, paint ah yes and food!

• On the car the didge music’s so loud I can’t hear myself thinking

• On a family restaurant VP insists is too bourgeois, ha ha ha, give me a break! Been here before, the girl is so young, so many adventures ahead of her; making her smile is my treat

• TV splits between the Oscars and Brazil’s carnival, I couldn’t care less… with all these people, with all this energy

• Fine art shop. The guy at the counter is so gay and talks so much… thanks god I don’t have to say anything and drunk 3 glasses of wine…. aahhhhh. I feel fiiinnee, like a hasty biiiird on a fiiieeelld, sunshiiiinnne, no wordss just a gentle breeezzzeee, soft and tender I’m flying, chirping, jumping treeee to treeee, bushh to bussshhhhhhh

• Bought paper at big store. Girl was nice and cut it

• Bought glue at small store. Guy talked too much

• Bought food at big store, woman with audi had a beautiful round… soul

• Still, we bought hot glue silicone pistol, electric cable and something else at big appliance store where girls were outstandingly nice and smiley

• I like these women of the countryside. They are voluminous yet packed tight, with good colours ( a permanently blushed face) and a certain healthy candor that is impossible to fake. They are genuinely friendly and they smile and look in the eye… I guess that’s why we’ve spent the day from store to store

28 February 2017

• Ash sky, timid rain

• Complicated and difficult dress different wear. Making green tea. Drinking green tea

• The blossomed almond tree makes the sky darker

VP says “cair em si” = give me a break… and we believe everything VP says

• It’s cold now, like a regret. The white Budha’s outside; always smiling the motherfucka. Going to smoke a cigarette with him

1st of March 2017

• Bees are busy with the rosemary flowers, that means that they will spend the day exclusively with the rosemary… ummmm rosemary honey

• Roasted chicken in literally a family dining-room 2 villages away… to forget, to forgive… wiiiiinnnneeee

• The whole day I’ve been installing a grid of lights. Still magic when they all turn on

• Gained a couple blisters from twisting the cables. Appropriate tools make the job easier that’s what they’re telling me

• Heard this saying on a stupid hollywood flick: If you give a monster a cookie… he’ll want a glass of milk. That’s sometimes true when dealing with other people and it is most certainly always true when dealing with ourselves

• I’m reading this awesome book Verde Brillante – Sensibilitá e intelligenzia del mondo vegetale by Stefano Mancusi and Alessandra Viola. I’ll never look at the plants the same

• Bits and pieces of a poem that probably would never be


Scarecrow with the hands on the air

thinking things that will never be

— what a lovely beginning

for an empty head —

look a cloud,

look a sparrow through the cloud

and through the sparrow’s heart sunshine,

you smile, I smile

then a naked horse

pulls back the rear leg


Scarecrow you have nothing of yours

but your fortune is unmeasurable

you don’t move yet everything changes at your feet

stranded on a stick you’re free

little by little the wind carries you away

closer to everything


you know the simple stuff and the ancient truths

you’ve heard the cicadas and the owl and the crows

and the goldfinch, the frogs and the human laboring the ground.

You’ve seen the sun and the moon

and the moons and the suns,

you know the sound plants make when they grow

and their silent fellowship whipping

when a fire breaks out afar

• For several nights now the screech owl has been screaming her ass off… Commune of country mice’s horror film

• There’s still contraband going on the roof {see POST}

2nd of March 2017

• fzf ; brew ; ls ; ctrl a ; fuck ; z ; mcd ; topo ; rm -rf ; h ; tab-tab ; ob ; ctrl t ; hhf ; supu ; or ; .. ; make ; gsort ; ln -s ; obr ; cp ; tt ; sou ; zz ; ˆ ; jump top ; killpid ; mem_hogs ; pimpin : ls -G ; ctrl k ; echo ; fix ; trans ; :en ; configure ; cd ; htop ; etc ; chown ; chochoin ; ps ; pax ; clear ; fill ; bif ; k ; mv ; write-good ; DT ; fkill ; ql ; lr ; curl ; f ; ~ ; stuck ; alias logout=”ps -Ajc | grep loginwindow | awk ‘{print $2}’ | sudo xargs kill -9″


Santiago and Miguel. How 2 brothers can be so different (?). Kids-me-only-gurus. Their teachings are ever generous and precise, funny, direct, full of energy, tender and joyful, for the most part.

• I concede myself, entirely, with no reservations whatsoever. Take me now, piece by piece. Not because I’m a boddhisatva nor ’cause I want to die… I’m ready

• The warmth of the sun is a gift

• Every night I wake up grandfather and feed him. He feedbacks such a cozy smile. gashô

• A fire is a home

• Watching telly… completely numb, electric morphine…. aarrgrghhhhh

3rd of March 2017

• The olive trees have been trimmed

• Heavy rain and now sun

• The frogs are pond-ering

• An invisible army of tiny birds joyously weave a blanket of {trills}

• A donkey… at the distance… wants to have sex, now!

• I’m on murmex

• Grab a mint leave, scrub it between my fingers, smell… travel

• The wind is playful. Patterns

• Wonder breakfast:

  • Chá de nós
  • Magnesium, Spirulina and Mouringa
  • A skating orange
  • Couple rye toasts with avocado, fresh goat cheese and scrambled eggs with green and ginger
  • Porridge reheated in green tea with cinnamon and honey
  • Coffee with Açores’ milk

• It takes time… to forget about time

• Feels like the sky has decided to come down, down hard to the ground. Lots of pressure on ma head

• On the road, a lead sky and suddenly a rainbow crossing the entire valley. With the Debussyan soundtrack I feel like crying… just to release some. Beauty, a rendered enactment, LIFE nevertheless. No unicorn though… ohhhh

• Extremely windy and inhospitable outside, coffee places become social centers. After our errands, we stopped here for a soup and a rizzol de camarão

4 of March 2017

Today made porridge with oatmeal, ginger, orange peel, raisins, walnuts, cinnamon and honey; shelves with bricks and pine planks; cut wood; double door with VP; a jumbo pan of soup with potato and sweet potato, garlic, ginger, cardamom, cabbage, nettles, olive oil and cumin and croutons with whole bread fried in coconut butter, salt and black pepper; hand washed some clothes and dried them in the fire; chip’s snack with a dip of quark cheese, avocado, tahini, olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic. I also laid down and gaze at the horny clouds and the moon at night; let the ants climb my legs, tickling tickling; looked and felt the roughness of my hands for a while; poke my hard dick and whispered “you’re wasting your time, buddy” ( with a smile); drunk coffee with VP at l’esplanade {see POST}; cut the beard of that frightening guy at the mirror; saw again Benigni’s La vita è bella. Going to sleep now gashô

5 of March 2017

• To my buttons: do not take effects/people for granted

• These days I’m dreaming a lot, I dream about relationships in complex contexts; go figure. Tonight I dreamt I was chasing a foxy girl with pale skin and her sister through a neverending house. The rooms were endless; living rooms, corridors, dressing rooms with their own subdivisions, waiting rooms, unknown rooms and especially bathrooms… The girls laughed and ran to hide somewhere; I got lost and opened a random door. It was a bathroom, a bathroom like a cathedral, such a suspended light… I looked around and landed my gaze on the toilet and the bidé. These were covered with colourful hand painted wildflowers. I stood there looking at the flowers and forgot everything else…

The dreams are not confined to a single instance, often the next night the dream would resume, sometimes even merging with other dreams I had before. If this goes on I’d most certainly need some kind of dream managing solution or an assistant.

Something I love about “this” dreaming business is that there are rarely words involved, a lot of colour, many faces, a lot of sensory stimuli ( stimuli stimuli) but no names, no names to keep track of, no towns or street signs, no time division… actually no measurements of any kind. My theory that there’s solely space and that time is a pure human construct is therefore proven right in these dreams of mine 😛 Maybe I can move and live in my dreams…(?)

• NOTE TO SELF: this day’s when I first clearly thought about the COMPRESSION project series

• My hand has 2 holes… it’s like a vampiress bite it, uuuuhhhh

• Finally went for the big tour. The woodpecker and mushrooms’ trail. Then the orange trees and water reservoir. The magnificent chestnut was there with its verdant sleeves; I leaned back on it for a while. The laconic grandma-olive tree was there too, looking at the grassy prairies… I totally understand, numberless variations of green to grasp. Down through a firewall path to the old shack, the plain with the big well where once a cow drowned… trails covered with a green carpet with white ( marigolds) and brown ( dry leaves) patches. Onto the eucalyptus forest in its constant orgy, always getting naked these guys. Then arrived at the midget stream, zippy with the last rain. Crossed the suspension bridge and ever so slowly walked the trail of the reedbed. At last arrived at my favourite spot. I always joke and say that if I had the money I’d buy this piece of land… truth is I don’t need to own it to enjoy it.

In “my spot” there’s a meadow that gently goes down, a turf that today was bright green with innumerable explosions of white – ’cause of the daisies – and red. Stood there in the middle of this holy land; gazing these colours is good for the eye, good for the soul.

Then I sat on the ground.

Then I laid directly on the earth. I could hear the echoes of the stream mixed with the thousand songs from the creatures of the air. On top of the hills, the trees danced clumsily with the wind. I closed the eyes, embraced the earth and let it all engulf me.

Ahhhh… peace.

When I was nearly sleeping, started to rain. I still laid there feeling the soft tickle of the rain’s pointy fingers. Then, slowly, kept on going. Not only colour, shapes and sounds but strongly a myriad scents were nurturing at each step. gashô

• Before climbing back, I sat on the bridge for a moment. Smoked a cigarette and bathed my timpani on the stream’s voice. Looked up at the trees, wondered which one would support my weight if I hang myself; entertained for a bit in this death theatre, I calmly started the journey back.

• Made monster salad with rucola and lettuce from the garden and walnuts, cured cheese, tomato, onion, rice vinegar and olive oil. I seldom eat salad when is cold, but this one was un manjar

• At night made whole rice with wakame algae and tortilla of 3 potatoes’ varieties, ginger and a touch of vaporized verdure. MMmmmmmm


6 of March 2017

• Sitting outside, writing some more. Today we’re leaving to the capital. It’ll be long till I come back…

• We came to get lunch at the bio supermarket. Almost all the staff here is black and they honestly look quite miserable. Met a friend of VP‘s, a retired lady that now is a full-time activist. She produces a rather expensive organic olive oil, talks non-stop and has some problems listening… to other people. Yet I find her fascinating, a free show with mucho magic tricks. She can be eating her lunch, stressing out about the construction of a new offshore pipeline, yet making reference to art and cinema and still laugh and have THE PRESENCE OF SPIRIT to look you in the eye, open wide hers and blink in a charming if provocative way. Multitasking perfected. No wonder women used to be the transmitters of knowledge. Amidst this live improv show, she said “people need to know who is producing what they eat” I could not agree more =)

• A minuscule olive green fiat cinquenccento going backwards at high speed. It parks. Door opens and a giant long white haired man gets out, amazing! Of course I have to say something to him

• Oh dear, here I am, drunk already with big brother Karma. Yihhhhhaa! Si happy, so loose at Soonam’s place… Wueni’s opening another bottle, she leans plenty close and looks at my writing, I tell her “I’m writing about you” and that’s the truth and so 500 points in the slide to death weekend special ride!!!!

• From now on my writings were impossible to decipher. I’m kind of amazed that in the state I was I kept on writing, that’s OCD for you. Basically and no doubt helped by the medicinal vapors I entered my happy happy joy joy mode

• Dani, Xico, Karma, Lagoa, Píter, Diana and me had a wonderful dinner. I don’t know how I managed to get at Dani’s ( 5th floor through open fire stairs) but it was all superb and I embrace the hangover talking to my good friend


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XICO ➋➎ if it’s a portrait, is mine


5 years bloblogging 🐝


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incongruently VII (las lagrimillas entre el iris y el colágeno astral)


 Video by Mike Olbinski


Hey there 🐑, welcome to another bath of critical mass… well maybe not so critical but massive nevertheless  N E V E R   T H E   L E S S   ! ! !

First off thanks Alex for the subtitle and all these years of friendship =)

This whole universe of scrappes forms almost unwillingly as, mostly through virtual intertfaces and its controls, I daily spend a long time looking, sorting and tweaking stuff — and I really mean “stuff” because sometimes I don’t know anymore what it is that I’m doingThis tools become a bit like a shack-base. Personally I stop seeing the numbers, the sliders, the checkboxes, the diagrams and feedback’s graphics; they all are “just” cogs and wheels that allow me to massage an image, to glue together 2 moments, to interact with people far away, to solve a problem, to share something else. But ( without contradiction) these things that are part of the work or pop up when less expected ( like the manga traps and naked ladies, ja ja ja) end up being part of my life, of our lives. Today if someone ask you somethin’ you don’t know or if you want to assert the true facts (link) about something you say google that… so we get used to, humans use and get used to the tools, the technology that allows us to do, to manipulate, to achive something; many of them end up becoming part of our culture. Yet, if we step back for a bit… it’s kinda surreal, don’t ya think?

🐌…. . … …..  

 Click any image to enter gallery mode



Previous incogruentlys
Now and putting an end to this too-much-cacophonic-flood, I’d like to shift gears and engage something that belongs to a more intangible reality


 Naked monitor


Naked monitor
just enough
water so green,
along the lines
all is falling
mechanicly blue.
Dwarfing a wave of doubt
the sun is here
walk with me
sun is here
tell the moon
about my dreams
making nest-vision
a church in each heart
holy guacamolly
and sex plants.

The sun is here
walk with me
sun is here
walking me

Ahó father
hocus pocus
pilates platz

Ahó mother
the earth’s fragrance
is your sheath

This morning
anger’s gone
morning of today
I feel lighter
carrying only pocket words
basted as a prayer
but more like a song,
a peaceful
an ocean
of humble surrender.



take pictures
with the eyes closed

keep up

the pace

gravel noises


This is not a concept
this is a heart


Previous incongruentlys


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ANALIS ➋➍ if it’s a portrait, is mine



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First off happy 1976!!!

Don’t know about you, but this new year’s premiere has been greit, very exciting. Amadeo, my little bro (younger but with far more wisdom and {thus?} gray hair than me) came to visit. He’d been travelling the world giving teachings, he’s a travelling teacher of the Diamond Way, western biggest budhists’ community. But family, you know, are the worst students so he has to figure out a clever strategy to deliver a bit of light onto us.

And hey ho heya hé this time he outdid himself. We’ve got a tendency to look for answers on big structures, yet many times the very small, the tiny almost invisible ones are the troy’s horses that really deliver the punch. Amadeo understand this and taking advantage of this knowledge, he gave us a present we could not “refuse”, he gave us a tremendously wise flu, heya heya lá ya hey hé!

When the whole family is sick, there’s no hierarchy, values are flaterned to its core, achieving little cotidian things becomes the carnage in a god’s battle, we jump 40 years forward, 40 years backward from second to second and so the output delivered vary from super wise, deep yet uncomprehensible grunts to spontaneous blasts of baby language, laughter or tears all attached to knots of emotional unknowness.

How a virus became my master… truly fascinating


But this was just the sauce where the meat of all meats would meet us. That is idiotic, anyway while the first wave of illumination, I mean sickness was arriving to our shores, Amadeo showed me a bracelet, a cord bracelet a friend of his had made, do you want it? Inmediately I could not but think that my wrist was still mourning the last one – you can understand better if you have a look at BMW crash about the middle of this post

So I was not “inclined” to accept the gift… but then, as casual as a the universe extinguishes a whole galaxy, Amadeo said there’s about 100 meters of rope tangled here, if you ever need it. And right there, like a thunderbolt piercing my skull the meaning was clear light. I took it from his hand, wrapped and screw it around my wrist… where it has been since.




It’s made of a couple heavy duty ropes, one metal piece that allows 3 different positions (sizes), a second one that’s an open ring and a third screwing one than closes the whole system. It is not light and yet feels incredible confortable and present which I like. Somehow reminds me of a scorpion, which being my ascendent explains everything ja jaJ AJj a

This is a suicidal kit, no matter where you are, if you feel like killing yourself, you’ve got the tools alright, just find a nice quiet place with a good view, as it will be the last one, and make a slip knot, attach remaining end to solid place and you’re all set. It is the ultimate freedom kit. I love it, knifes are so messy, ja ja ja aja

Also it is a constant reminder of death. In most western countries we have placed death in a far far away cold corner of our universe when the truth is that it lives here with us, in all little things, within all complex structures, it is not an end, neither a beggining of any nonsense cycle bullshit, it is the same as life, it has just being given an ugly name. And we give ugly names to many things that frighten us, like being old, like being dead… being dead ???

So it seems that my bracelets are related to death, I used to wear one of a girl who died, then the BMW crash and this one now. It makes sense as body adornments way before being something of aesthetic value had a very strong transcendental simbolic function =) I’m a cave man, lalalá ugh buga I’m a caaaave maaaan



So now, helped with the flu (and those heightened voices one’s not able to hear normally), with the scorpion of death around my wrist I can start practising stuff, yeahhhHH. Bring it on!!! Thank you little brother, thank you for taking such a personal approach to teach me

/// 🐨 F E L I Z 🐋 8 🌴 L E O 🌶 \\\


Hey you, big guy, wanna play some majong with us? Bring your wallet




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Analis et Max. Photo by Biulix 🐛 🐝🌿


Got two and a half black
plus one and a half red
breakfast machines
complaining news
all very confusing
bullshit smoke curtains
coming out the network
inside our heads
like plastic butterflies
they say but actually
more like fat flies
with fake eyelashes
looping around nightmares

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