| In Spanish, the word “mondongo” means tripe, or the lining of a cow’s stomach. The word “Mundungus” is an ancient one, meaning “tobacco” or “garbage.” In other words, “mondongo” is a word that has a profound meaning in our lives, and our future. “Mondongo” is also a stew we love, and we are like three witches stirring it up in a cauldron: revolving and expecting and trying and experimenting; attempting to alchemize, to distill, and ooze all the chaos, and the all possible “all-ness” in it. | 
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In Spanish, the word “mondongo” means tripe, or the lining of a cow’s stomach. The word “Mundungus” is an ancient one, meaning “tobacco” or “garbage.”
In other words, “mondongo” is a word that has a profound meaning in our lives, and our future. “Mondongo” is also a stew we love, and we are like three witches stirring it up in a cauldron: revolving and expecting and trying and experimenting; attempting to alchemize, to distill, and ooze all the chaos, and the all possible “all-ness” in it.
This “allness”—an infinite, psychedelic, synesthetic, crafty, esoteric, quantic, dark hole— is also a catharsis in surrendering, in making love, and in playing. It is also our own crack-up, our own demolition process, and our way of making love and trying to conquer moments of orgasmic bliss: having sacred and happy moments between us.
Mondongo nourishes us, not every day, but the desire and passion keeps it hot. When mondongo’s tongue touches our lips…the kiss is almost gold.
After so many years, and so many changes (around and inside), and in spite of time passing, we continue with a romantic spirit. We try to maintain our wish to construct dreams, and to trust that we can have infinite possibilities of living art: by listening to lots of music and learning the beauty of sharing silence in new and exquisite ways; elaborating scientific process over our desires; evolving from the animal to the theoretical again and again.
We feel that we are sprouts of a sort that got entangled, spawning a whole new organism: making us brothers of a particular species. We have an inevitable desire to make portraits; a need to be alone in our caves feeling like apes, to be connected 48 hours a day. We are very thankful to mondongo.
