An arcanist's artwork. Exhibited in the 1990s, duration of exhibition unknown. Created in winter, on the 15th of July. Originally exhibited in Santiago, Chil... [Read more]
An arcanist's artwork. Exhibited in the 1990s, duration of exhibition unknown. Created in winter, on the 15th of July. Originally exhibited in Santiago, Chile, later toured across Latin America.
- Fabuloso! Now I have an experience even more noteworthy than spending two weeks hiding out in a university bathroom —being carried around in a suitcase!
(First Encounter Voiceline)
- Like ghosts, rain has always lingered over this land ... Oh, I mean, it's featured in so many works: 'It's raining on Santiago.' 'It rained in Mocando for four years, eleven months, and two days.' 'Lima's winters are trapped in a misty drizzle.' They all have a melancholy loneliness to them ...
(Suitcase Climate Voiceline)
- When I was in Mexico City, I met a poet at a Gandhi bookstore who said we should leave the café and wander the world. He told me that the most important thing isn't to write poetry but to 'live the life of a poet.' After that, I got it in my head that I'd become some kind of gun-slinging cowboy!
(To the Future Voiceline)
- ... Oh, it's nothing. I just have this creeping feeling that we're still trapped in a ghost town, or aboard a foolish ship, drifting eternally in restless waters. I suppose this feeling won't fade easily, will it?
(Idle Voiceline)
- Vertin abrió la puerta de golpe. Llevaba una expresión que sugería que se había desconectado de la realidad en la que estábamos ... Oh, hey there. Is there something you need?
(Greetings Voiceline)
- Buenos días! For me, morning is the least suitable time for writing, but it's perfect for a cup of coffee, a nice chat, or a board game session! So, why don't we get to work after lunch?
(Morning Voiceline)
- I've been collecting feedback for my new novel, Ruinas Gloriosas y directrices de metáforas. Marcus gave some very detailed critique, but after sleeping on it, I've decided not to change a single word.
(Bond: Morning Voiceline)
- This is a night made up of hunger, tipsiness, and a poem describing the amber eyes of a jackal amid the endless horizon of the Sonoran Desert. Sure, it's enough to get you energized, but it doesn't mean all that much in the end.
(Night Voiceline)
- On an evening as simple yet complex as this, it's only natural for the bonds between our feelings and reality to become messy. There's no shame in admitting the loneliness in our hearts—it's not a bad thing.
(Bond: Night Voiceline)
- I've always seen this hat that I bought in Mexico City as a symbol of the traveler. Actually, it's not so different from yours or the Paracausality Researcher's! We can swap if you like!
(Hat and Hair Voiceline)
- Yep, my new notebook's identical to the last one, and I'll write my heart and soul into it, just as I did before. But something still feels different ... Maybe it just needs some time to adapt—or maybe I do.
(Sleeves and Hands Voiceline)
- Hmm? Oh, I'm stronger than you think. I've waitressed at busy restaurants, picked grapes in vineyards, and even woven yarn in a textile factory— ¡tienes que mantenerte viva si quieres seguir escribiendo poesía, mi amiga!
(Clothing and Torso Voiceline)
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