Saturday, December 31, 2011

The Scent of Nostalgia (16)

At times, narrations seep from solitude to the pen of the anonymous artist. The memory was drenched in grey hues, sepia stretching from the edges to the centre, where a massive torch blazed, illuminating the architect of the revolution on the fictitious island. Decades ago, the island revelled in its layers of rock formation. its inhabitants came closer to defining citizenship than their forthcoming generations. There was a time for a flag, a time for grand rhetoric ...

The narration started with a conflagration that drenched the island in red.

I realise I might have distorted the torch and the rain, as my eyes had distorted the mushroom cloud engulfing the television screens in my childhood. In a similar manner to which the workers degenerated into middle class morals and a flaming torch melted into a parody of the abstract.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Dictatorship relics in Chile: Paying Homage to Miguel Krassnoff Martchenko

An article I had published in Upside Down World, discussing the homage to Miguel Krassnoff Martchenko and subsequent outrage by human rights and activist groups in Chile.