We're all aYOtzinapa

I was already running late for the Artists for Ayotzinapa rally. I made small typographic sketches and printed them out. I wish I had more time to work these out. I will eventually print some t-shirts with some graphics but I thought it was a rough grain of sand (a prototype of some sort).

By the time I reached Reforma, policemen were closing down the street. I thought to myself, wow this is going to be big. They were deviating the traffic to a lateral path of the main road. Suddenly, I saw something rush by on the corner of my left eye, it was like a scene from Flatliners, I quickly understood they had closed the street so people could have a costume night ride at Paseo de la Reforma.

I wonder what is it that I was expecting? I told myself, most probably, the artistic community would be gathered at Bellas Artes palace. I finally got there and as I reached the palace I heard some music. A guy dressed as Gene Simmons came from behind a painted tarp that said #Ayotzinapa. Cumbia was playing, people were dancing, everyone coming back from the Zócalo walked by the altars and took some pictures.

I asked around, where are the artists? Oh they took off, someone informed me. Weren't they supposed to get here and stay around all night? Well yes, but they left. I meditated it for a while. 

Was Enrique Peña Nieto tonight worried about a possible uprising? I looked around. Walking catrinas, laughing zombies, running minions, Michael Myers eating tamales and small chihuahas dressed up as pumpkins were having a fun Saturday night.

Most of them came over the Day of the Death altars, mentioned some phrases about the sad events around Ayotzinapa as they facebooked them but then went off unto their path as they got distracted by a Malinche and a dead astronaut.

EZLN's altar was beyond beautiful. Corn cobs, cempazúchitl flowers and saw dust filled the center of the plaza in front of the Bellas Artes palace. #ArtistasEnResistencia was present and the other noteworthy thing was a collective of Mexican etchers, all women called #mujeresGrabandoResistencias. Their work is beautiful.

I ended talking to a camouflaged soldier called Arturo. He is a reporter, his brother was killed under impune circumstances, the case was never solved. One of the plastic leaves in his suit was ocre and had the name of his brother written in it. He was friends with the people that made one of the altars. All of them were really warm and offered me something to drink or eat. In my imagination, it almost seemed, their dead ones had already given up on justice and were sitting around them in the cold night, some of them smoking, some of them just happy to be remembered, helplessly smiling, loosing their thoughts as they looked into the candle lights, bringing back as they remembered, more loved and ghostly figures of their own...

hehehhe

#mujeresGrabandoResistencias