“ Llega la noche, la obscuridad. Llega el día, la obscuridad. Pero al dormir sueño y veo mi vida plasmada como era anteriormente”.
***
“Night comes, darkness. Day comes, darkness. But asleep I dream and I see my life as it was before”.
© Jaime Permuth, 2025
“ Llega la noche, la obscuridad. Llega el día, la obscuridad. Pero al dormir sueño y veo mi vida plasmada como era anteriormente”.
***
“Night comes, darkness. Day comes, darkness. But asleep I dream and I see my life as it was before”.
After Luca and Olin were born, I understood parenthood for the first time: the way it teaches you selflessness and the new joys, anxieties and sacrifices that come with it. I remember my first birthday celebration after the twins arrived and my parents calling early in the morning to sing “Las mañanitas” to me. It became suddenly overwhelming. I tried to explain to them the enormity of what I was feeling as a new father. I wanted them to know that I finally understood what it must have been like for them when they were a young couple starting out on the road of life and welcoming their first son. Words failed me and there were mostly tears of gratitude.
A few days ago I celebrated my birthday again.
I lost my mother back in September and I’ve missed her every day since but especially on that day. I found a flask of cologne she had given me as a gift a few years back. Dabbing some on, I let the memory of her linger with me throughout the day, helping me through as she always did.
I stepped out of 2020 like a man crawling out of a car wreck. And yet, I have much to be grateful for, not least that I have work and a family to keep me going.
Olmedini however reached his 80th birthday last week living on his own in city housing, blind and out of work. Hard as I try, I cannot imagine how he endures. But endure he does. I visited with him and brought a little gift along, a “Pyro Wallet” I remembered he was looking for last year at MagiFest. Just for laughs.
These days, he rarely ventures outside the walls of his apartment anymore and hasn’t had a haircut since March. Together we walked the streets of El Barrio, which has been hit hard by the pandemic with its attending health crisis and economic downturn. Even unable to see the hardship with his own eyes, Olmedini felt it in the air and we cut the walk short and headed back home. It was good to catch up with him. More than ever, when I left him I thought of Don Quixote, 'el caballero de la triste figura’.
Let’s believe in love, work, art, education, science, the natural world, democracy, service and sacrifice, tolerance, equality and solidarity!
Let’s believe in ourselves, each other, our dreams and the possibility of things to come. Happy New Year!
I got through this god awful year thanks to this woman and the love and life we’ve built together.
Washington Heights, New York
Hoy está de manteles largos una de las personas que más admiro y quiero en este planeta. Olmedo Rentería, el legendario Olmedini El Mago cumple 80 años.
Respetado mago, desde que nos conocimos han sido incontables las aventuras y los recorridos. Han quedado grabadas algunas de ellas a través de los reportajes del New York Times, Univisión, Telemundo, TV Globo, Genii Magazine y tantos otros canales mediáticos. Nunca olvidaré el homenaje en Yankee Stadium frente a cuarenta mil personas ni su actuación estelar en el MagiFest en Columbus, Ohio. Le deseo hoy y siempre todo lo mejor en la vida.
La fama ya es suya!
***
This man, for whom I have the utmost admiration and affection, turns 80 years old today.
I hope in 2021 we will be able to return once again to the road we had been traveling together for two years. There have been so many adventures and triumphs along the way. Some of them have been chronicled by the New York Times, Univisión, Telemundo, TV Globo, Genii Magazine and many other media outlets. I will never forget the day the NY Yankees honored him and his ceremonial first pitch in front of 40,000 people. Or his stellar performance headlining this year's MagiFest in Ohio. Most of all, I miss spending time together. I wish today I was heading to El Barrio to raise a glass to his health and celebrate!
Luca and Olin are deepening their own rhythms and charting spaces for exploration. I find it all endlessly inspiring.
Happy Hanukkah and Happy Holidays! Enjoy some bubble tea with your latkes and hope to see you again in person in 2021!
Father and sons
Two years ago it was just a hardwood floor under our sofa.
Last week, the State Department shipped back one of my photographs which had been installed at the US Embassy in Guatemala for the last two years.
The piece is from my 2014 series “El Sistema”, a photographic document of the work of Sistema de Orquestas de Guatemala (SOG), a non-profit whose mandate is to create a network of new symphonic orchestras which offer free classical music education for the country’s youth.
This week I sold prints of these two images I shot a few years ago at the Highline. They’ll hang in the corporate headquarters of an architectural firm in NYC.
When Olin sees something he’d like to eat he gets a little crease in his brow and says in Korean: “I didn’t eat that”.
In Guatemala, my father Mario Permuth makes these digital illustrations so his grandchildren in New York will smile.
I spent yesterday visiting with my dear friend Olmedini El Mago.
It had been nine long months since the last time we had a chance to see each other. And equally long since the last time he performed magic on the subway - or ventured out for a haircut.
A few notes about our twins:
Like characters in a children’s book, they say “tok tok tok” instead of actually knocking on doors.
They translate everything from Korean to English for Papi’s benefit. Luca is a puzzle master and also loves to build to spec. Olin gets a kick out of assembling as well, as long as the result looks nothing like the illustration in the product box.
Olin breaks out in song. Luca gets up to dance.
Luca’s color is blue. Olin’s is red.
They call each other “Cuca” and “Ewin”.
When one of them gets hurt, the other rushes in to give comfort.
They stomp their feet like pistons in an engine when they’re upset.
They laugh at each other’s jokes for minutes on end - but nobody else gets it.
They can fight over toys all day long, but they don’t think twice about letting other kids borrow them at the playground.
Luca does a happy dance when he eats his favorite foods; Olin eats them with both hands at once.
Olin is fiercely independent; mischief is Luca’s middle name.
When they see themselves in the mirror, they call out their brother’s name.
When they go to sleep at night, they hold onto Mami, like pilgrims to their prayer.
***
Luca and Olin are two years old today.
Olin is a fox, Luca is a lion.
This corner felt like the kind of spot neighborhood residents come out to at the end of the day to have a friendly chat.
No doubt you’d find me here if I lived on the island.
This morning I was reading an animal book to the twins. We came to an illustration of an octopus. “Who is this?”
Luca: “Octopus”
Olin: “Yummy”
Jeju Island: lessons learnt.