Peter Greenaway, Eros fighting Thanatos

Yesterday, I wanted to fill my senses of life. As corny as this sounds, I could have easily gone for a few minutes to a maternity ward like Meg Ryan on City of Angels (sorry Wim). I ended doing the next best thing to that: went to The National Museum of Popular Culture to their Popular Eroticism exhibit.

After the past few days, I wanted to counterbalance the frustration and sadness that has set into this reflective time for Mexicans. How naive, I soon found out... I'm just like Peña Nieto, thinking our situation can be kept at a certain distance when we are absolutely submerged in it.

On my way to the museum, I was taking pictures of a bride when I heard a voice under a microphone, "Come on over, paint your face, be a part of this performance for the missing Ayotzinapa students..." A few blocks after, I found a small altar for the 43 students made out of burnt candles and decaying pictures.

Inside the museum, there was a part of the exhibit where they displayed a bathroom scenario and the typical horny-vulgar writings in them. The walls were dark from chalkboard paint and they invited you to participate.

Amongst the vulgar popular sayings about vaginas and peanuses, insertions and erections, some others filled the boards, they were about Peña Nieto, Ayotzinapa and violence.

I know everyone has their own front to fight their impune battles. Mine is definitely art, education and writing. But sometimes, even that, seems so vain under such circumstances.