More on the thought-provoking, circuit-straining arts created via technology. Are you ready to enter new virtual environments and meet the artists behind them? Here’s part 4 of our 5-part series.

In this video, art meets toys! Forget about quiet museums and long art history classes, this is playful, colorful and full of sound! But don't you dare think of this as kid’s stuff. These artists take their toys very seriously!

Antonio Vargas is a talented painter and sculptor. In this video, he’s going to show us his works, explain what they mean and how he made them. A self-portrait as a fish? His father in clay? It’s all here.

The more we know, the bigger the dark abyss of our ignorance seems to become. Don’t worry: We can’t understand all of what this guy is saying either. That’s why the name of the show is Lo que no sabías. Follow this fast-talker to learn a bit more about electronic art, audiorhythmic shock boxes, the first computers and more…

Want to know what you didn’t know before? Here’s the first in our series of what you didn’t know about… electronic art. We talk to a veteran electronic artist who’s been playing around with computers since the old Commodore and Amiga machines connected to TV sets. He’s linking and looping, moving from one networked idea to the next. See if you can follow his rapid-fire monologue about his digital works.

You may know the baraja española, the Spanish deck of cards, with its classic renderings of kings and knights in four suits. Our illustrator friend Antonio Vargas created a uniquely Mexican baraja with native imagery drawing from the pre-Columbian Aztec, Olmec, Toltec and Mayan cultures.

Our surf-loving friend Antonio Vargas is a talented illustrator with a varied career. Here we see some of his more commercial work and some of what he does for fun—like an illustrated magazine and notebook doodles.

Antonio Vargas is a versatile Mexican artist living in Los Cabos. He has done cartoons, commercial drawings, paintings and a lot of sculptures. In this episode Antonio is going to show us some of his cartoons containing the adventures of Surfo.

La Vela is a small town in the state of Falcón, on the northwest coast of Venezuela, where every December 28th Los Locos [“The Crazy Ones”] arrive wearing colorful and elaborated costumes. The whole town becomes a party, with businesses closing and people dancing in the streets. It’s a tradition that could be in any magical realism novel and that desperately struggles to not fall into oblivion.

Nelly Ocacia and Benjamín Moldonado are both 19-year-old university students, and enjoy dancing with the Ballet Folklórico Guamanique when not studying. We caught up with them at the airport in San Juan, where they were welcoming new arrivals and seeing off departing passengers, much to the delight of travelers.

Deep in the heart of Old San Juan you can hear live salsa music playing most any night at the Nuyorican Cafe. We stepped into the alley for a breather and had a little chat with two lovely salseras to get an insider view of what brings them back to the dance floor night after night.

It’s quite possible that El Día de Los Locos, as celebrated in La Vela de Coro, has its roots as far back as the Roman Empire, which celebrated Saturnalia at the same time of year. Both festivals, historically, involve turning the social order on its head, with slaves dressing like their masters.

Most English speakers have at some time in their lives heard Donovan sing “The Hurdy Gurdy Man,” but how many knew what such a man did? The woman in this video talks about a musical family that used to play the sinfonía, and indeed this is the Spanish name for the hand-crank organ known as a “hurdy gurdy.”

Vela, a word often used for “candle,” or “sail,” can also mean “wakefulness,” as in “vigilance.” It’s related to the verb velar, “to stand watch.” The name of the port city of La Vela de Coro refers not to the “sails” of merchant ships (as many assume) but rather to this town’s role as a “lookout” point for marauding pirates. One-eyed peg-legs are now less common, but the carnivalesque annual festival of Los Locos continues on.

In Guatemala, people of Mayan descent not only retain various native forms of dress, but they also speak dialects of the Mayan language, a language many people wrongly presume to be long lost to history. Rafael treats us to some examples of words and phrases in this language, and also explains some of the particulars of traditional dress.