Thursday, July 29, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
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" between folds and volcanoes "This is South Africa
From there the Third International Meeting of Origami began to be seen as such. Colombia had secured his share, Venezuela did the same in late June and finally the beginning of July Peru purchased your ticket due to land in Ecuador. The third adventure had begun. Forty hands
Hop on this route origamística volcanic.
Next Stop 1. Pucahuaico-Imbabura station 
The previous
started in June 2010 in Quito Origami exhibition at the Museum of Natural Sciences, National Polytechnic School on the occasion of the university parties, exhibition moved to the Library of Parque El Ejido and finally in the Cultural Center Metropolitan occasion of Children's Day.
From there the Third International Meeting of Origami began to be seen as such. Colombia had secured his share, Venezuela did the same in late June and finally the beginning of July Peru purchased your ticket due to land in Ecuador. The third adventure had begun. Forty hands
got
up to parallel activities in Ibarra, Ambato and Quito. The same hands began to fold their jobs, while five minds in charge of general organization drew what would become the Third International Meeting of Origami "The folds and mountains."
up to parallel activities in Ibarra, Ambato and Quito. The same hands began to fold their jobs, while five minds in charge of general organization drew what would become the Third International Meeting of Origami "The folds and mountains."
Hop on this route origamística volcanic.
Next Stop 1. Pucahuaico-Imbabura station
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Cubefield Online Proxy
An explanation
Sitting. Staring at my companion. With a good Havana cigar in one hand and the other Scottish nectar and listened to his chatter, with open eyes in astonishment at first, and the interest later. He
comfortably in his chair, leg over leg, told me a story. The sun was surprised with its first rays.
I got off the pure lack of oxygen, and my cup untouched. To draw the curtains in the morning light blinded me. I looked almost in the dark, a place to deposit my glass.
In the room I found myself alone. My particular storyteller had disappeared without a trace. I left the library looking for one that had kept me awake, enthralled with a story absolutely magical.
Mrs. Curtis asked my housekeeper, his servants, serving the kitchen. I questioned everyone, grooms, gardeners ... no response. Nobody spoke. Neither look.
I went to my room, furious, when I realized that the cigar off, I stayed in my mouth. I bit in anger, and concerns should feel that he was experiencing something unexplainable.
rode for hours in a failed attempt to clarify the previous night. When I arrived that evening I waited in the forecourt in front of the house, someone claiming to be the Commissioner Baxter.
- Good afternoon, Mr. Swanson!
"Good afternoon," I said.
I spoke of a corpse had been found in the northern part of my estate. The fact that my property was forced to question him.
told me, without much detail at first, how and when they found that individual, how they believed the murder happened. Most surprising was that there was nothing to identify him, except a small mark on the back of his neck. My heart raced. Sweat soaked my hands. It was like my own stories told! And it was he who was telling me.
That night I went to the right place by Baxter. I heard a few steps, when I turned a sharp blade cut short my throat. As I left the life I could see a large stone fell on my face.
When police questioned Ms. Curtis and all the service of the house, told that I had left to ride for three nights and did not know me from then. Mrs. Curtis identified me by the birthmark I have on the back of the neck.
Every night I keep hearing the same story of my companion, sitting with a cigar in one hand off, and a glass of scotch in the other nectar seeking an explanation for my housekeeper does not answer my questions, and pretends not to see me.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
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LAMBAYEQUE
Lambayeque I returned to you, full of your stories and the meeting of human persistence to continue on the path we have set, follow through and for culture of our people.
I have a strange connection between feeling hovering in heart and mind and write the steps of my voice flowing, influential and persistent that I linger in the soul to splash so many feelings that it could clearly articulate the miscellany of my spiraling impulses Compass seem to stop what comes into my reason for experienced and schematic fragments in these attempts to say so much, it quiets the word from the skewed profile of this clear and beautiful experience to meet Lambayeque.
trembling I confess that my soul felt at the butterflies in your history, between the mysterious dust of their wings was distributed in my being that older feathering and patriotic hubris. I want you to know how you feel!, As I feel you, he left no doubt follow in the boldness of the free will admire your gardens without doubt give us more, much more of the secrets that are awakening to the world and so I follow you, hovering your circuits, powdered the grass growing between your findings, get rid of this quiet prostration ancestral puzzle afflict us so long. I am here today
Lambayeque, embracing cultural man of Sipan, admiring, as if to lighten shedding those flights is ours, I'm here, thinking you thinking of the re invent new game never to forget your name, silence is not lost in the primal fascination that fate caught up with me and let me tell you know that even though the pain of the world overtake us, it will not matter because when something beautiful whispers constant awareness, world history than that in these times you I know. So I have been amazed to see you, my dear Lord Sipan is excessive in my reason prevailed to have found there under the turquoise adorned you forever, together with your most sacred ties that prisoners did not hesitate to follow love your courage and your purpose of great Lord, who lives in a village enlarges as it does now my being.
why I'm here, as if to return to ancestral refuge refers me to you, loving you in this destination and bonded me to you my Lord.
Never before have I sworn my love to the perpetuity for you today Lambayeque in which soil Sipan keep my love, I swear my loyalty and grow our history, universally shared this love that endures, to follow in admiration I checked to meet you and with you, all this turmoil that grew up with your firm steps in this gravity and wind vanes is stealing our breath, dancing on the grass grown in the center of your stories tangible and where in these days life has placed me to strip my clutter and stop looking for a name to the man who lives in my successful arguments, You, Lord of Sipan confine you in my huge rainbow to love and admire without discounts, because real life will continue here was pounding in my ways and You., to take me in your hands again and perpetuate this madness going to stand quietly to meet again, until you want in the destination until the next time you and I look forward to. I hope so. Lucy Martinez Zuzunaga
Peru, October 13, 2009. 
Lambayeque I returned to you, full of your stories and the meeting of human persistence to continue on the path we have set, follow through and for culture of our people.
I have a strange connection between feeling hovering in heart and mind and write the steps of my voice flowing, influential and persistent that I linger in the soul to splash so many feelings that it could clearly articulate the miscellany of my spiraling impulses Compass seem to stop what comes into my reason for experienced and schematic fragments in these attempts to say so much, it quiets the word from the skewed profile of this clear and beautiful experience to meet Lambayeque.
trembling I confess that my soul felt at the butterflies in your history, between the mysterious dust of their wings was distributed in my being that older feathering and patriotic hubris. I want you to know how you feel!, As I feel you, he left no doubt follow in the boldness of the free will admire your gardens without doubt give us more, much more of the secrets that are awakening to the world and so I follow you, hovering your circuits, powdered the grass growing between your findings, get rid of this quiet prostration ancestral puzzle afflict us so long. I am here today
Lambayeque, embracing cultural man of Sipan, admiring, as if to lighten shedding those flights is ours, I'm here, thinking you thinking of the re invent new game never to forget your name, silence is not lost in the primal fascination that fate caught up with me and let me tell you know that even though the pain of the world overtake us, it will not matter because when something beautiful whispers constant awareness, world history than that in these times you I know. So I have been amazed to see you, my dear Lord Sipan is excessive in my reason prevailed to have found there under the turquoise adorned you forever, together with your most sacred ties that prisoners did not hesitate to follow love your courage and your purpose of great Lord, who lives in a village enlarges as it does now my being.
why I'm here, as if to return to ancestral refuge refers me to you, loving you in this destination and bonded me to you my Lord.
Never before have I sworn my love to the perpetuity for you today Lambayeque in which soil Sipan keep my love, I swear my loyalty and grow our history, universally shared this love that endures, to follow in admiration I checked to meet you and with you, all this turmoil that grew up with your firm steps in this gravity and wind vanes is stealing our breath, dancing on the grass grown in the center of your stories tangible and where in these days life has placed me to strip my clutter and stop looking for a name to the man who lives in my successful arguments, You, Lord of Sipan confine you in my huge rainbow to love and admire without discounts, because real life will continue here was pounding in my ways and You., to take me in your hands again and perpetuate this madness going to stand quietly to meet again, until you want in the destination until the next time you and I look forward to. I hope so. Lucy Martinez Zuzunaga
Peru, October 13, 2009.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
How To Get A Life And Health License In Maryland
MY CONNECTION WITH YOU MY SCARS
SCARS
He went to ask for money, its dirty face outlined by the glass side of the rudder where that day I was driving and his hands stretched suggested understanding.
was about two feet from me, and they were also the two scars on his face, near your eyes and lips, stretched as if they were made by the way, came to the middle of his cheek of some twelve years.
say that their scars are not anyone's fault, what would I know! the reasons so now I am appalled at him, is just a kid! loading in the face of misfortune imposed and tattooed forever ...., who did, as was done?, that child never tell, because they weigh decisions about on, they fear that does not confess.
I caress her face does not seem to feel and I extend a coin and on my way to pass the red light, gives me a slight smile thanks to the tender issued by his voice, his small hand, tanned cold, gives me goodbye and me, gravitating infinite sadness, a tear down my face trying to rush dismayed that face reflected abuses that marked his tender years and unable to defend themselves, supports the tyranny of heartless people.
Ynosotros "?, Have we become cold and only regret that there are facts like these?, Have we become indifferent to others' pain, What we are doing for them ?...., and me, even to write, God! not change nothing, nothing ... I only brought home one of your scars, I put in my heart.
Lucy Martinez 
He went to ask for money, its dirty face outlined by the glass side of the rudder where that day I was driving and his hands stretched suggested understanding.
was about two feet from me, and they were also the two scars on his face, near your eyes and lips, stretched as if they were made by the way, came to the middle of his cheek of some twelve years.
say that their scars are not anyone's fault, what would I know! the reasons so now I am appalled at him, is just a kid! loading in the face of misfortune imposed and tattooed forever ...., who did, as was done?, that child never tell, because they weigh decisions about on, they fear that does not confess.
I caress her face does not seem to feel and I extend a coin and on my way to pass the red light, gives me a slight smile thanks to the tender issued by his voice, his small hand, tanned cold, gives me goodbye and me, gravitating infinite sadness, a tear down my face trying to rush dismayed that face reflected abuses that marked his tender years and unable to defend themselves, supports the tyranny of heartless people.
Ynosotros "?, Have we become cold and only regret that there are facts like these?, Have we become indifferent to others' pain, What we are doing for them ?...., and me, even to write, God! not change nothing, nothing ... I only brought home one of your scars, I put in my heart.
Lucy Martinez
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