Updated Daily: January 2007 - February 2020
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Tuesday, April 18
dame de tu boca esa furia loca
Monday, April 17
nadie se trastornaba como él
“To him she seemed so beautiful, so seductive, so different from ordinary people, that he could not understand why no one was as disturbed as he by the clicking of her heels on the paving stones, why no one else's heart was wild with the breeze stirred by the sighs of her veils, why everyone did not go mad with the movements of her braid, the flight of her hands, the gold of her laughter. He had not missed a single one of her gestures, not one of the indications of her character, but he did not dare approach her for fear of destroying the spell.”
đź’™
“Le parecĂa tan bella, tan seductora, tan distinta de la gente comĂşn, que no entendĂa por quĂ© nadie se trastornaba como Ă©l con las castañuelas de sus tacones en los adoquines de la calle, ni se le desordenaba el corazĂłn con el aire de los suspiros de sus volantes, ni se volvĂa loco de amor todo el mundo con los vientos de su trenza, el vuelo de sus manos, el oro de su risa. No habĂa perdido un gesto suyo, ni un indicio de su carácter, pero no se atrevĂa a acercársele por el temor de malograr el encanto."
- Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1927-2014)
Sunday, April 16
Saturday, April 15
la mirada que por fin te merezca
Friday, April 14
una noche con Garcia Lorca
Thursday, April 13
sentir, vivir
que veinte años no es nada,
que febril la mirada,
errante en las sombras,
te busca y te nombra..."
- Estrella Morente
Wednesday, April 12
y que ponte los zapatos de tacĂłn y taconea
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| - 2007 mixed media on paper - |
"Es por culpa de una hembra
que me estoy volviendo loco.
No puedo vivir sin ella,
pero con ella tampoco.
Y si de este mal de amores -
yo me fuera pa' la tumba,
a mi no me mandeis flores,
que como dice esta rumba:
Quise cortar la flor
mas tierna del rosal,
pensando que de amor
no me podria pinchar,
y mientras me pinchaba
me enseño una cosa
que una rosa es una rosa es una rosa...
Y cuando abri la mano
y la deje caer
rompieron a sangrar
las llagas en mi piel
y con sus petalos
me las curo mimosa
que una rosa es una rosa es una rosa...
Pero cuanto mas me cura,
al ratito mas me escuece,
porque amar es el empiece
de la palabra amargura.
Una mentira y un credo
por cada espina del tallo
que injertandose en los dedos
una rosa es un rosario..."
- J.M. Cano
amanecà muy Española...olé...
y que ponte los zapatos de tacĂłn y taconea...
I woke up with this song in my mind...
Spanish dreams perhaps...
Tuesday, April 11
Monday, April 10
repressing it will not work
Sunday, April 9
the children they mark...they know
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.
Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.
Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends."
Saturday, April 8
at her breast
Friday, April 7
el sabor de mis puntos cardinales
y me converti en sirena -
y en mi carne morena -
sentĂ el calor -
silbando fuerte a mi alrededor -
y tuve un amor lunatico -
y me converti en planeta -
y estuvimos dando vueltas -
en un baile silencioso -
las estrellas calladas -
como nosotros -
y ahora tengo un amor -
que es un calor -
que navega su aire en el viento -
que conoce mis buenos momentos -
y el sabor de mis puntos cardinales -
yo tuve un amor antártico -
y la nieve me esperaba -
noche y dia frĂa, helada -
pero a mi no me importaba -
porque el hielo conservaba nuestro ardor
y ahora tengo un amor -
que es un calor -
que navega su aire en el viento -
que conoce mis buenos momentos, mis males -
y el sabor de mis puntos cardinales..."
Thursday, April 6
mis labios
Wednesday, April 5
the list of loves
Tuesday, April 4
dance with me
Monday, April 3
despeinada
Sunday, April 2
to see things (and people) in their true dimension
“At times I feel as if I had lived all this before and that I have already written these very words, but I know it was not I: it was another woman, who kept her notebooks so that one day I could use them. I write, she wrote, that memory is fragile and the space of a single life is brief, passing so quickly that we never get a chance to see the relationship between events; we cannot gauge the consequences of our acts, and we believe in the fiction of past, present, and future, but it may also be true that everything happens simultaneously. ... That's why my Grandmother Clara wrote in her notebooks, in order to see things in their true dimension and to defy her own poor memory.”
- Isabel Allende
Saturday, April 1
let's go my darling
chestnuts in blossom,
holiday tables under the trees...
April in Paris,
this is the feeling,
no one can ever reprise,
I never knew the charm of spring...
I never met it face to face...
I never new my heart could sing...
never missed a warm embrace...
till April in Paris,
whom can I run to?
what have you done to my heart? "
- E.Y. Harburg / Vernon Duke (circa 1933)
Friday, March 31
Thursday, March 30
believe
Wednesday, March 29
my place in the family
Tuesday, March 28
has every saint lost her wildness?
....Suspicious that Asenora was no ordinary woman but a mermaid, and greatly alarmed by her presence, the abbot of the monastery hid himself by the water and waited. He witnessed Asenora swim ashore, remove her fish tail and hide it in a niche in the cliff.
When she wandered off in the direction of the abbey, the shrewd abbot retrieved the fish tail, bundling it into his robe. He tucked it inside a secret compartment hidden under the seat of his chair, in the church. Without her tail, the poor mermaid could never go back to the sea, and soon the wildness of it drained out of her. Asenora was converted, and eventually became Saint Senara...”
excerpt from “The Mermaid Chair” a novel by Sue Monk Kidd @ 2005







































