Diego Gerard Morrison is a writer and translator working in the intersections between appropriation, plagiarism and co-writing. He is the author of the play The Wait, and the novel Myth of Pterygium. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Brooklyn Rail, The River Rail, Boiler House Press, The Poetry Project and Shifter among others. Lucía Hinojosa Gaxiola is an artist, experimental poet and editor whose work explores the materiality of language, memory, sound ecology, elements of chance and archive. Her conceptual art/poetry book The Telaraña Circuit (Tender Buttons Press) is forthcoming and her album REZO (Insect Poem) was released in 2021. Her work has been exhibited in galleries, museums and art spaces in Mexico and abroad. Diego and Lucía are co-founders of diSONARE, an editorial platform based in Mexico City.

In this episode of Season 2 of How Art is born, Diego and Lucía join host R. Alan Brooks to discuss the nuance and power of language, how being bilingual can impact one’s perception and approach to language, and so much more.

Welcome to How Artists Born, a podcast from the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver, about the origins of artists and their creative and artistic practices. I'm your host, Art a Brooks artist, writer, and professor. Today I'm joined by Mexico City-based writer Diego Gerard Morrison and Artist Lucia Hinojosa. Say hello.

Hello. Hello,

. All right. So just to start us off you know, I mentioned that a little bit of what you do, but can you say a little bit about who you are and, and what kind of art?

Well, I am Lucia and I am an artist and experimental poet from Mexico City. I work with interdisciplinary practices, very much mixed and, and fluid. I work with, with sound, with drawing, with concrete poetry installation, many things. And I also love to write, and I question every day what writing is and how can writing be expanded, you know, like sort of poetry so sort of like a poetic exploration that, you know, expands boundaries. And I also edit the Experimental Journal De Somatic, which is a bilingual journal journal with Diego Gerard, and we've been doing that for many years.

Nice. All right. Diego?

I'm Diego Gerard Morrison. I'm a writer, editor, and translator based, based in Mexico City.

Okay. So you guys both do a lot of work with words. And Luci you were talking about sort of what it means to sort of try to stretch the boundaries of what words can accomplish. That's a really fascinating thing to me. Some years ago I was reading a CS Lewis book where he was talking about the limitations of language to fully convey an experience, you know, like the difference between writing about skiing versus actually skiing. And I wonder if in your approach of using mixed media, like multidisciplinary practices, is that you trying to bridge that gap? Is that you're trying to find new dimensions to communicating some kind of idea?

Yeah. Well, I like to think about language in the body, you know, not, not so much in the mind, but in both places. And I like to really think that we are creatures of language. You know, that's, that's the great thing that we share you know, in, in consciousness. So since you wake up in the day, you are in, in some sort of way, you are experiencing language, you know, even if you're silent. So yeah, so I really try to, to question you know, symbiotics and semantics and sort of the meaning of meaning kind of. And I think language is really the vehicle for that. So I don't know if bridging, but definitely diluting, you know, diluting like one boundary with another. So it, it's kind of utopic sometimes.

but I really, really question and, and feel that we can, we can have different approaches towards language and sometimes I kind of have this way of explaining a metaphor about leaking. You know, like we are sort of leaking language. You know, we are because language is, is in the, in the boundaries and in the limits and in the relation between even non-human things. But we are sort of embodying that. And, and, and language is being like leaked, but it's also being coming towards you. In a way, I don't know if this is to,

Yeah, no, this is good. Cause I was thinking about how when it's face to face communication with someone the communication exists largely in like context or things that are implied inflection, how we use our voices, our facial expressions, body language, all those kind of things. But when we are writing something, if we're trying to communicate something, if we're trying to create an experience the words often largely have to stand on their own. So it's interesting to hear you talk about bringing in different means of communication and how all that stands for you. So Diego, when you are doing your work, do these themes come into play? And then also, I wanna know, like since you're both doing the, this magazine and working together from time to time on certain things, how this sort of I'm gonna say chemistry of communication, , how it kind of fits in.

Right. I would say that I think we arrive mostly at the same place when we work with language, both through cni. Hmm. I do think we do arrive to that place through different, different means and different routes, if you will. Mm-Hmm. , I think language is the great mediator. You know, we're constantly mediating language and mediating experience through language as well. So as a novelist I'd say care first and foremost of experience. So I try to use language to experience the census, the sensory experience of being in the world. So I think in the end, we do come to a certain place, which is similar, but I do it more through an analytical place, you know, and, and come to that, through knowing that language is an abstraction and then mediating experience through, through abstraction, you know?

Yeah. so, you know, I've talked with a lot of different artists over the years and for some artists it's important to communicate some specific message. For others it's just important. They'll sort of let the art be what it is, or let the art be an escape, and then other people, you know, do a little bit of both. And so I wonder for both of you, since we're talking about the effectiveness of language to communicate, is there usually a specific message that both of you are trying to communicate? Or is it just about sort of the exploration of what language can do?

Well,

That's right. I come with the good questions, . Go ahead.

It, it's funny, but I'm, I'm not that interested in being effective, you know? For instance, I'm, I'm quite interested in, in disruption or in, you know, I have a aunt who had syndrome recently passed away, but she had a stuttering difficulty. And I loved how language got so refreshed, you know, in this, in this stutter, Huh. And how, how there were other means of communication that naturally happened through this impossibility, you know, of, of, of effective communication. So I really try to be open to you know, breaks and crevices and and, and holes and, and, and things that are not you know, not perfect or not optimal. So I'm, I'm more of a, of an investigator or of observer of of, of where are these things located and what they can do and how they can, you know, teach us, like they, the, the work can be instead of me creating the work, the work happens in a way by relation and will teach me something, you know, that I wasn't aware of. So so yeah, I think my approach to, to language has to do with those sort of relationality aspects and with, you know, intervals and silences and translations as well mm-hmm. written and spoken language. So it's not, it's not very much about the narrative, you know? Okay. And Diego is, I think is very much about telling the story of that,

Right.

? Yeah. I, this question about precision fascinates me, you know, I am obsessed with precision in language. Mm-Hmm. , I often think that the most stunning images comes through mapping together images that are not precise, in other words normally the, the most interesting images in writing come as metaphors of uniting two things that don't really go well together, you know? Mm-Hmm. , and that can be understood as a rupture and language as well. So I think precision and rupture are not necessarily things that antagonize each other, you know? Hmm. I have a an obsession of looking for writers whose work I know is good, but I can't really figure out why. And I think often because of how jarring the images are together, you know, so mm-hmm. , I, I, I do think precision and language can, can come from a place you don't really anticipate at times.

This is interesting. Yeah. Like it's sort of beautiful to hear we see, you know, you going for disruption and Diego, you going for precision. But being able to see the relationship between them both and that they're not necessarily opposed. I wonder as you both know at least at least two languages, Is that correct?

Correct.

Okay. So do you find, cuz it seems like the subtleties of different languages might allow for a different degree of disruption or precision. Do you find that bringing in different languages as you're writing something becomes sort of a useful tool in either of these goals?

Yeah, it definitely becomes like a very fertile sort of nourishing and very like malleable and flexible thing of, you know, what things are, You know, like mm-hmm. , like, there's like a double veil of, of meaning and you can sort of use it's, it's completely a different voice. When I write poetry in English, I really like it because I, I'm more aware of the construction of the word. Cause actually I learned lang, I, I learned English like very well when I was older, you know? Okay. In my, in my twenties. So I, I I kind of, it, it's a different form of approaching language cuz you can sort of dissect more you know, like the word rotate and the, and the word rot and how like rot is inside rotating, you know? Yeah. And like, what, what, what that could mean or what that does.

And when you, when you're born with your mother tongue with your language, it's, it's even more embodied so you have less distance to sort of see the little, the little things that are inside of words. Hmm. and so I, I, I love using both and reading in both languages, writing in both languages, but you know, it's like having two, two chairs and which chair do you wanna sit in today? Yeah. So yeah, I think that that expands way more. You know, it's, it's, yeah, it's like having more options to, to create in your own mind, you know?

Yeah. I love that. That's, yeah. That's dope.

Yeah. I like to think of languages in terms of knowing more than one language. It's a vantage point. You know, it's a way to, to access the other, the other language from a point of view that you wouldn't have. So to, to, to give an example, I think Spanish is a very nuanced language as opposed to the precision of English. Hmm. Spanish can be much more complex, and that is not to say that it's a better language or a worse language but a different way of understanding words. And learning to, you know, make them play together is a very interesting thing as well, because you can find little crevices and nooks that I tend to go and explore at times.

This is really interesting. It's, it's sort of beautiful to hear well in some ways to hear what English looks like from the outside and you know, the kind of subtleties that you're finding as you go back and forth between these two languages. I wanna go back a little like, so Diego, for you, how did this, this pursuit of language begin? What got you into writing to begin with?

So I had the privilege with, I mean, it might be a privilege and curse at the same time of growing up in a bilingual home. Okay. Like straight down the middle. So my mother spoke English to us because she was American and my dad is Mexican, so he spoke in Spanish most of the time. So I had a, like an early incline to read and write in both languages. But I wouldn't say I was into language as I am today until maybe my late teens or something just in school developing a skill, you know, And it was my, my parents also lived very remotely when I was young, so they, in, they passed on to me very maybe unhealthy reading, reading habit,

.

So I think I took it from there. Yeah, reading literature was always in my life, so I think it was a very easy thing to, to, to, to go into later in life.

Well, so what did it, what did it mean for you when you're reading? Like, what core did it strike? You know, like how did it, why did you keep doing it?

Yeah. This is gonna sound very purist, but I think reading fiction mostly because this is what I mostly read and mostly read today, it gave me a tool to understand life as it was happening outside, you know, outside my body, in my body. So give me a tool to understand feelings, emotions, abstractions, and ideas as well. So, Wow. That's it, it's clung to me. Yeah.

Hmm. Okay. And then Lu how about you? How did, how did you sort of start on your path to pursuing words?

Well, I think my, my grandmother was a big influence. She adored poetry. She she, sorry,

You're being Ced

The street. It's raining, there's traffic anyway, Right on. But yeah, my, my grandmother loved poetry. She always said, you know, poetry saved me. She, she had a, a a, she struggled. So she saw since I was young that I had that interest as well. So she really, really pushed me and, you know, gave me books like you know, books that probably a seven, eight year old girl wouldn't wouldn't read. But I also had, you know, like a little bit the fat Yeah. Fat shirt, you know, the of the, of the books since I was young. Cuz I, I loved carrying my books. And I loved also like the material aspect of the book. And, you know, once I remember it fell into like a puddle and then, you know, it got all wet, the book and then it got dried and like the, the, the waves that happened, you know, the wave dried and the form, like the sculptural aspect of the book.

And I think that sort of, that drift of the object and the meaning of things really stayed with me. So I think that's, you know, this obsession of the, like, the material aspect of words are, is something that probably started since I was really, really young. And I, I always wrote in huge things, You know, I have a collection of notebooks since I was also really young, eight years old or something. So the notebook practice is really I'm, I'm kind of addicted, you know, to, if I don't have my notebook with me, I, I get really nervous. . So actually when I met De Diego is when I started reading novels. I didn't, I didn't really read novels before I read poetry. So

Well that,

Yeah, it's been like a long interdiscipline sort of search. I, I started then with art and with film, so I wanted to be a filmmaker that I wanted to do. And, and slowly I've been, you know, putting all the, the aspects together and, and understanding one I wanna pursue.

Hmm, that's beautiful. I, I was gonna ask with you both being people who place such a heavy emphasis on the power of language when you met, was that sort of central to how you guys connected? Or, or was it something different?

I think that was a big one.

Central was, well, language always played a role in, even in the way we communicated

Mm-Hmm. . Yeah. Yeah. And, and I, I, when I met Diego, I was like, Wow. He reads like, he comes from another world, you know, of like the things he's reading. And so I really didn't know, like I probably, I had never in my life read a short story in English, you know? Huh. And, and he would show me like what he was writing or what he was reading. And, and yeah, it was something, it, it really sort of balanced each other's interests.

Hmm. Okay. So you both talked about what was important to you that, that made you love language and love writing. When you began your own practices creatively, were you trying to, were you trying to recreate the thing that you loved? Or were you immediately sort of forging your own path? And this is for both of you?

I think there is always a urge as a young writer to try to imitate, and I guess it's like a magnetic pool pull because you want to write exactly like your literary idols, you know? Right. and it's really hard to understand how, how, how the need is there to find your voice, you know? And this steps you need to take to really find your voice. And I have to say, it's a painful path, you know? , you have to experiment. You have to put yourself out there, you know, you have to grow a thick skin in terms of criticism. Yeah. but that's the most important thing. Knowing, knowing how to detach from what you love in the words of others, and really trying to, you know, be neck deep in your own way of thinking, in your own way of conveying language. You know?

For me, I think the medium has changed a lot. But I was actually thinking the other day that perhaps each artist is born with questions. Hmm. And you're always pursuing that question or those questions, you know, that are sort of the principles of your life, of your, you know, existential sort of what's it travel mm-hmm. . and those questions keep growing. And I think like the good artists, or the artists and writers I really admire is the ones that keep their questions alive. You know, don't respond, don't, don't think that you can respond them, but expand that question into more questions probably, you know? Yeah. And like, pro or, or mature. The question, the question is maturing. The question is growing, the question is evolving, and it doesn't really matter the medium that you are exploring that question, but the, you know, the, the exquisiteness of, of that it's like a seed that you're sort of born with Right.

And, and when I look back to my notebooks when I was a, a teenager, of course the, the voice has changed a lot, but, but the essential things are still, are still there, you know, And and, and I've, I've just figured out I was, I, I had this, this thought when I saw the exhibition of Ethel Ana, the, the, the poet and the painter in we, we were actually last year at the Guggenheim, and she died during the show . Wow. so, and, and it was wonderful to know that she had passed away and we were seeing that show and we were looking at her retrospective. And I, I had that feeling of, you know, I think we're born with the same questions

Hmm.

Each artist.

Yeah. Huh. I would also add in terms of your question about imitating or trying to you know, mirror your work in, in somebody else's, I think with my work, I'm very drawn to appropriation. And as you were asking me, I was realizing maybe my urge to go inappropriate has to do with, you know, not being able to let go of my fantasm, some writers, you know, and trying to perpetuate their work over and over again, which is, which is sometimes necessary in culture, I think.

I think so many artists of different disciplines are trying to, you know, where we're all trying to like, find our way through, like what, what inspires us, but what does is also true our truest voice, I guess. Diego, you mentioned having ways to deal with criticism having a, a thick skin. And that sort of brings me to a question that I, I tend to try to ask everyone, and that this is about creative fear. Like, when you're having, when you're creating art, first of all, what kind of fear do you feel? And then secondly, for either of you, how do you find your way through that fear to keep creating?

I try to save all my fear for writing writing in itself. It, it, it fills me with fear just because as I produce, I, I, I fear the quality of it, you know, I fear mm-hmm. , I fear for it to be read by someone else. But I mean, it's also a thing that nurtures my writing, you know, it, it's impulses to get better is the impulses to make sure that what I'm putting out is the best I can possibly do. And so I, I, I try to save my fear for the writing desk. You know,

It's like cooking, you know, when you, when you, when you learn how to cook. It's, it's sort of finding the right balance of things. Sometimes I'm too visceral sometimes, you know, I'm too mental, too conceptual. So like, how do you put everything in balance for it to be, you know, like a thing that breathes by itself, you know, that is there. And also I think a big fear is knowing how to let go, let go, let go of your work. It's there, it's alive. You know, like, and sort of accept your, accept your energy, your essence, accept that you are like this. And you know, don't try to like over explain or put, you know, this, it's there, it is what it is, you know? So sort of that fear. And also I was gonna say, well, the, the classic I think fear we [and] many artists have is how will the work be read? You know, will it be read as I am reading it, as I am perceiving it? How will it be? And, and that's also thrilling. It's not a, it's not only a fear, it's also a, a good curiosity. Cause sometimes it gets read in some ways that you never saw, and then you're like, Oh, wow, you know, you're, you're reading it this way. And I hadn't seen it that way. So, so it's a good fear. And also I really, really adore and enjoy working. Like, I could work all day, every day, like I but the fear element and the insecurities can take away so much of of that pleasure mm-hmm. . So just, you know, trusting, slowly trusting, trusting, but also being really open to, to critique. Hmm. And and, you know, accepting some things. And but also sometimes just saying if you're not, if you don't agree with a critique,

Right,

You have to defend, you have to also learn how to defend your work, how to defend your vision. Hmm. so I dunno, it's a lot. Well,

No, I think what you're articulating is that it is really an interesting balance to strike, right? Because in order to be an artist, there is some degree of vulnerability that's required. Because we have to be able to take in the world around us in a compassionate and insightful way. We also have to sort of pay attention to how we're communicating these sort of subtleties of humanity or our experience in the world. But we also have to not be completely vulnerable to people who want to destroy us, you know, who want to tear down our vision. So it's, it's, yeah, it's just an interesting balance to try to attain. But all of that that you said is useful because I think ultimately the goal is to not be paralyzed by these fears and the pursuit of this kind of balance.

I think fear is a fantastic creative force. You know, if we follow Kurt Vonnegut’s logic about fiction, you know, you really have to be mean to your characters. You know, you have to instill fear in them. Hmm. And instilling fear in them will make you take them to a redeeming place, you know, so you have to force yourself as an artist, writer, whatever it may be, in the same way. Mm-Hmm.

, I love that now in, in my own writing. I, I've often said that art at its highest as a way to take something that's intangible and make it into a tangible thing, something we can wrestle with. It's some feeling, some experience, some subtlety of our existence that art is able to capture, and suddenly we have a way of coping with it. I wonder, since you both come to the use of language and art from different perspectives, I would like to hear what, what your thoughts are about that. Like, is it about capturing something intangible, or is it something different for you?

In my case, I would say that is capturing many tangible things all the time. As a picture writer, I want make you feel things in your skin, you know, listen to them, smell them. So I, I do believe the tangible is a sort of end point, end run in, in fiction, you know, maybe as opposed to other mediums of which I know nothing about, you know. But I think, I think with fiction you have to make the, the experience tangible. So you have to go from the intangible to the tangible, from the invisible to, to, to feeling, you know? So,

Yeah.

So yes, I don't know if that answers your question at all, but I think you know, advocating feelings is, is what I'm after.

Yeah. it's interesting how we're always like in, in the duality of, you know, material immaterial, tangible and tangible. Sometimes I, I would say that I'm in really interested in in bringing the intangible out of the tangible, you know? Hmm. Sort of the opposite of cuz the tangible, we some sometimes think it's a given mm-hmm. , and you know, there's many intangible things to the, to the tangible . Like like for instance just one word. Any word. Imagine how old is that word? And, and, and that word that, you know, you know, you say the word and probably the sound of the word is intangible, but there's a, and I'm going, you know, on the other side, but there's a tangibility and there's a, an actuality to the word that is so interesting, you know, like, how many cultures has it crossed, how many accents has it been adaptive to, to, and you know, all the, the history of things is very tangible. So I don't know. I think I try to, to bring sometimes like essence or auras of things that's why also I'm very interested in, in time and in the materiality of time in, in language.

Hmm.

Language is so tangible though. Know, words are so tangible.

Yeah.

You think of the word dirt and it can feel it in your fingers sometimes. , and it's also an abstraction. I,

Right? Yeah. Like if people are describing music and they want it to be a little rugged, they'll be like, Let's put a little dirt on that

. Right.

And it sound becomes more abstract. That's really interesting. Okay. So I know you, you both work on things individually and together. I'm interested in since we've heard so much about how you both approach language, what it's like when you're collaborating on creative projects together. Like how does it go, What's the experience like?

The experience can be gruesome for sure. Since have you seen, we, we, you really approach what we do from different vantage points and different scopes mm-hmm. and the one project we work on together, and we, and have been for the past 10 years or so, is publication editorial platform at the, the, that I think has been nurtured by those two viewpoints coming into coalition, you know? Mm. I would have never done a publication that is so I would describe it as brave, you know, and really going after things that are unfinished, that are really experimental.

And I wouldn't, I wouldn't, I wouldn't ever had done a journal in the first place That was the idea, .

Oh, wow.

But I'm guessing my version of it, if I had done it alone, would be a very boring and calculated

Thing.

She brings the chaos, and I, I had, you know, that's a very bureaucratic idea of a, of

A publication. Not, not bureaucratic at all. I, I would say that your approach is more you know, translations short stories, fiction, but Diego is like, has such a good eye for for fiction mm-hmm. . and I remember one time a friend of ours was reading out loud a short story by a Mexican writer called Daniel sva. Mm-Hmm. was super experimental, and he was reading out loud, and then he stopped reading and he said, Who understood that? And Diego was like, Oh, he's saying that he's arriving to the market and the fruits, I was mailing this way and this, that, and no one else had understood that. Right. So so Diego has like a, you know, the penetrating eye of, of the fiction writer. And I, I come more from like a sound perspective a poet, a poetry or like an interdiscipline, an unfinished

Or shattering genres you

Been project. So

I would say we, we set out in the beginning to maybe do a very conventional sort of publication, you know, having fiction poetry and nonfiction in every issue. And then it has become this sort of evolving crazy project with unfinished pieces, pieces that maybe nobody understands, but the artists themselves and us, you know,

,

They're kind of like hidden messages.

Yeah.

Yeah. I think some people do understand

well, if you guys have been doing it for 10 years, there's some people to understand, I'm sure. Yeah. Yeah. I wanna ask what, where, what's coming next? Like where are you both headed creatively? What new projects do you have coming up?

So I we're having a new issue of this publication coming out soon. We are exploring the idea of psycho geography. Hmm. And it's very odd ways. I'm trying to pursue a novel telling this family stories about my parents in the seventies and eighties. Hmm. But it's, you know, it, it's at the point where you have to really struggle to get a scene through. So Right. Nothing more than a work in progress at this point.

Hmm. We also have the the pursuit of, of writing a novel together. Together.

Oh, nice.

Uhhuh that it will be the story of obviously all fictionalized, but the scenario, our journal is like a character mm-hmm. and is, you know, if this scenario of the journal, if the project would be a person, who would it be? Where would it come from? You know, what year is it, is the person living in Mexico or in New York or in both, or traveling? And and a lot of our experiences with with writers and with artists, with meeting people with traveling. So that's, that's hopefully something we'll do, you know, in the next four years or

Something. , I feel like you guys have been training for this moment for the last 10 years with the Mac that journal , and now you're doing like the real intense thing. You're like collaborating on a novel like that's, that's, that's real .

I would say that the, the publication project we have has really given us a very interesting social life , so it's been worth it just on that side, I think.

Huh? Yeah. Okay. So

Expect it. Sorry. And we never expected that. I don't know that, that that magazine will, would bring us something when we were like, you know, very young and I even started the project.

That's really cool.

Yeah. You know, once we were told that publications are first are first of all social creatures mm-hmm. , but they are at the same time a, you know, a self portrait of who makes them, you know, so Hmm. That, that, that's all proven to be true to some extent, I think.

Yeah. Huh. I, I know from writing stories and having comic book artists draw it the most exhausting part of it is chasing down artists to get things

To get done.

Yeah. Yeah. For the thing that they say that they want to do. , you know? Yeah. yeah.

Really a labor of love.

Yeah. So I admire you guys for being able to do that

, it's so hard to get them to write a short bio of themselves,

. Right. I did a I I, I wrapped sometimes and I did a mix tape about 10 years ago, and I had like maybe 15 different rappers on it, and I was like, This will be easy. I'm gonna make all the beats. All they have to do is show up and rap. I thought it was gonna take like two months. It took like a year and a half. I was like, I don't understand, like your rappers, you don't have to do vocal arrangements. All you gotta do is show up to the studio and rap I sent you to beat ahead of time. But they'll show up and be like, trying to write in the moment, or like, it was a whole thing, man, it . I was like, I don't even understand. But I think part of that is that the fear that we discussed earlier, you know, it makes people I think it just like, it paralyzes them, you know? Yeah. And makes them throw obstructions in the way of even things that they're looking forward to themselves. Okay. So if any anyone wants to look up either of your work, where should they go online?

They can go to my website Diego j art morrison.com or publication and editorial platform is dessata.com, so D i S O N A R e.com.

And my website is lu ina punto.com. Lucia ina, do

I heard the Punto. All right,

.

Okay. So my final question is what is a pleasure for you guys? What, what's inspiring you? Television, movie, books whatever it is. Like what, what's giving you sort of new creative life these days?

I try to read every morning with my cup of coffee. You know, I try to vary it a lot, but I'm sticking to mostly novels. I'm very into Mexican novels of the era of the revolution here. Huh. That stands 1910 to 1940, I find, I find very interesting.

Nice.

He's very funny. He goes, like, he goes to all this th stores and, and like, you know, old bookstores in, in the center in Mexico, and like, he's like, I got this book, and it's like this book from the Revolution of Mexico. And they was like, It's fascinating, you know, like no one, no one has ever told the right story of the revolution.

, the story has never been told, you know, so it's, and it's, it's a time in Mexico where everyone was writing a satire about it, you know? So you only read Satires about the revolutions, huh? I love that. And I'm, I admit to be obsessed with it at the moment.

nice.

I,

And I I also read every morning I I wake up very excited to, to sit down and read, but I meditate as well every day. I do meditation, and I, I love it. It really, really brings, you know, the, a good start of the day. And I also like playing guitar and, you know, with my looping sort of loop station and yeah, I love being home and working here.

Yeah. Nice. Well, listen, I gotta say I really enjoyed talking to you both. It, it was a nourishing conversation. I felt creatively nervous. I appreciate it.

Thank you so

Much. Thank you so much. I for this time.

You're a great host.

Great host,

. Thanks. Special thank you to today's guest, Diego and Lucia. Thank you. To our listeners, please be sure to subscribe to How Art is Born, wherever you get your podcast, for more episodes. If you can leave a review, it really helps us out. Check out MCA Denver on YouTube and subscribe there. Two for behind the scenes clips from today's episode. Don't forget to visit MCA Denver's current exhibition, The Dirty South on view now.