understand

How to Be Alone

via Adriana Lisboa

el teatro teatra como un arbol arbolea

thereareamillionthingsthatiforgottodoiwassupposedtogotothe2000summerolympicsandwinagoldmedalswimmingbreaststrokeiwassupposedtopracticeeverydaystartinginjulyof1996summerolympicswhenitoldmyselfiwouldiforgottolearntoplaytheelectricguitariwassupposedtobeafamousmusicianwheniwasverylittleiusedtodanceinasliponthetableandsingatthetopofmylungsbeforeiwenttosleepbecauseiwasgoingtobeafamoussingerandihatedmymotherandihatedmyfatherbecausetheywouldntbuymeafuckingtelecasteriwassupposedtobeanartistandbeanillustratorandpainteverycolorleakingaboutinthebottomofmybodymindheartbutthenistartedtoreadpoetryandliteratureandneededwordstosaywhatiwantedtosayandididntwanttobemediocreandiwantedtogotospainsoiwenttospainbutiforgotsomewherealongthewaywhatiwassupposedtodoinspainandnowispeaksomespanishandistilldontknowwhattosaywheniwasyoungihadabeautifulsparklingmindnowiamtiredandalliwannadoissleepitoffitsfunnyhowtomorrowalreadyfeelslikeyesterdayandhowigetnostalgicforthesmellofsomeshampooihadalongtimeagoitsmelledlikelavandereverytimeitookashowerandiwasoncereallycoldinrussiaanddrankwhitecoffeeicrashedmycartwiceandigotitstuckinourbackyardandtheyhadtouseahugecraintogetitonthestreethecameandjumpeditandtwitchedandwantedtokissmebutitoldhimnoandhetoldmehelovedme.

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"Bem sei que é assustador sair de si mesmo, mas tudo o que é novo assusta"

-Clarice Lispector

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saudades

Canto De Iemanja X Smokey and Miho

the shoreline is the space between water and land, neither ocean nor earth but a liminal intersection that also posits a transition.

From the threshold,


it is the ritual,

the repetition,

that fills us with the momentum that pushes us to break through

or

do we stay, lapping like waves,

in the same place


forever


?

渡辺勝と松倉如子





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3:28 a.m.

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deliverance



I cry too.

puisque



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Help me in my weakness
'Cos I'm falling out of grace



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like her head's on fire

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and so we watch the sun come up
from the edge of the deep green sea
and she listens like her head's on fire

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"There is a side of me that lives and does things with rapacity and I was a violent and spoilt little girl, but my heart broke when I was seven years old and since then I have never been the same."

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constantly attempting to carve away all of the mountains in its path.

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tributaries, gullies, streams.

2 streams meet at a confluence: curves, known as meanders.



A river does not just flow, it changes the surface of the Earth.

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Wild Eyes

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This morning at 4:00 a.m. I woke up to the blaring porch light shinning at me through my window from across the parking lot behind my room.

I was thinking about the river, the mucky green color of the water and the bare light bulbs above the plastic screen doors, covered in flies, mosquitos, nats at night like a moth to a flame and then I was thinking about the back deck of the lake house, moss on the black metal, the sound the insects make in the night.

I used to spend so many hours in those waters. I thought about my swimsuits, the two pieces the one pieces, my lungs sometimes aching from so much swimming, my reflection in the sliding glass door, my friend telling me I had a pretty body:

becoming conscious of my body,

the leaking pools of youth.

I felt my heart racing and I knew I was a child.

Today I felt my eyes racing and I thought I was a child for a second there and then I felt this separation in my head, separated by the time and the distance and the everything in between now and then, I felt like a child in another person’s body: becoming conscious of my body.

When I was a child I always used to imagine that one day I could wake up as someone else, with the same mind but in a different body. I remember that I figured that it must be so close and so easy to just switch like that because all that was separating us was skin and I felt like the power of my soul was enough to jump out and go anywhere.

I suppose that in a way we choose what we remember and I don’t know why I choose to remember what I do. In the moment of the separation my life was flashing before my eyes: the plastic trays of cafeterias, the white tea and the woman from the green café who picked lilacs from my front yard and told me how to boil the water to steep the leaves without burning them, the summer heat, the intensity, the girl who threw that rock at my car.

I was thinking about my father and about my mother and how I am the child of the river and the waves of the great lakes.

I was the child of the river and the waves of the great lakes.

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Dali og Gala

"Tornado" by Dorothea Lasky

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Like a carrot I will be everything God can’t see

Oh, what do I mean

God can see everything

I mean the angels, I mean the half-gods

I mean the flowers, don’t ever let them see me live forever

Don’t you ever let them see

That I am all root here in the ground

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there is a mouse in my house.


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good eyes

via katinkalinklove

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you found myself racing


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The Universe

Stephen Eichhorn

Tiger's Ear


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it feels like fall today

via Cahier de Travail Manuel de Louise Despont

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Spilling Over




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Estados Unidos debe ser un país lindo porque todas las canciones de amor que escucho en el taxi cuando voy a lugares están en inglés, y vienen de Estados Unidos.

Canciones de amor increíbles como de un planeta insondable.

todas las canciones de amor me gustan

todas las canciones de amor me gustan


-Cecilia Pavon

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But it passes like the summer
I'm a wild seed again
Let the wind carry me.


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The world had been created to comprehend itself

as matter: table, the torn
veils of spiders ... Even consciousness—
missing my love—

was matter, the metal box of a furnace.
As the obligated flame, so burned my life ...

What is the meaning of this suffering I asked
and the voice—not Christ but between us—
said you are the meaning.

No no, I replied, That
is the shape, what is the meaning.
You are the meaning, it said—


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Isn’t it always like this?
Something uncontrollable becomes the hero,
Taking off its dress, the ice plants
Sunburn from the center out
So we can see that their deaths

Of splendid rust and yellow are not ours,
We are allowed again the glare
Of the sand, the druid hills,
The grasses brushing the legs, though
Just to have felt it once would have been enough.





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My love, won't you talk to me?
Won't you lay with me?


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"It happens very often that a man has it in him, that a man does something, that he does it very often that he does many things, when he is a young man when he is an old man, when he is an older man. One of such of these kind of them had a little boy and this one, the little son wanted to make a collection of butterflies and beetles and it was all exciting to him and it was all arranged then and then the father said to the son you are certain this is not a cruel thing that you are wanting to be doing, killing things to make collections of them, and the son was very disturbed then and they talked about it together the two of them and more and more they talked about it then and then at last the boy was convinced it was a cruel thing and he said he would not do it and his father said the little boy was a noble boy to give up pleasure when it was a cruel one. The boy went to bed then and then the father when he got up in the early morning saw a wonderfully beautiful moth in the room and he caught him and he killed him and he pinned him and he woke up his son then and showed it to him and he said to him see what a good father I am to have caught and killed this one, the boy was all mixed up inside him and then he said he would go on with his collecting and that was all there was then of discussing and this is a little description of something that happened once and it is very interesting."


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Pina Bausch - Die Klage Der Kaiserin



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'Silently thou fliest upward in the morning.'



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touch my mouth with your hands.

wht's she talking about?



eros/thanatos, yin/yang, anima/animus, libido/destrudo,

the secret of the golden flower


the light side of the mountain is opposite to the light side of the river.


sun/moon



venus saturn and mars circling around each other's heads. look at the northern sky.





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tonight = treehouse excavation/un earth l ing i don't know where to begin it kind of hurts a little

books, turkey dinner, typewriter, wave, face! eat me.

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But I say that people all over the world are good.

People all over the world ain't bad.

But if they keep on chickenin' out,

They'll never get what they wish they had,

And that's affection.



it's, like, the same:

*was the world a dream or a dream the world?
.


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lima de carey

abro y cierro el cierre de mi bolsito manicure
y vuelve a llamar ella
reclamándome la lima de mango de carey.
jamás se la voy a dar
no por la lima
sino por la historia sentimental
por tantas lágrimas que hicieron
barro con el polvillo de mis uñas
apretando el carey, para evitar otra lágrima
y mirar fijamente la uña limada, para
no demostrarle que estoy llorando.
ella sabe.
por eso llama
y  la reclama.
ella quiere esa lima.
ella quiere mi lima.
ella quiere que yo deje de mirar su mango
de carey
ella quiere que la mire a ella
pero no la voy a mirar.

I copped a feel off the wall

Graffiti/Signs/Art found in Brooklyn, Queens, Pulaski bridge.

Story about a Brooklyn neighborhood I wandered into.


I am a child
and I'm not ready.



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ahora que estás pelona

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NYC: THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN FREE AND NECESSARY ACTS

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then let's keep dancing

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I came to this world in order to do something and I haven't done anything and the whole world is gonna end.

-E. Decorsey down by the river.


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My knees became water and when he told me not to cry because they would think that he was trying to hurt me I felt the ocean in my abdomen spill out from between my legs and both of us were drowned.

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'I'd like to have a pastry. We can have it on the go. Sure. Just let me get my wallet. I have zero dollars so we are even."


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Crossing the pink bridge under a blue sky the boy in the black and white said, "I'm going to be in a major motion picture."

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almost espasmo, the heat made it palpitate.

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"he had a thing for asphyxiation. he wanted to push my head under the snow but i wouldn't let him."

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I don't believe in the power of love. I don't believe in the wisdom of stone. I don't believe in a god or the mind.

and I'm not alone.


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"

There

where i put my hand.

There

where I close the door behind me.

There

where I unpack my bag.

There

where place incites me, chides me, invites me.

I breathe, smother, burst away."

-Nathalie Stephens in

Absence Where As

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felt like the girl in the river who wades from one bank to the other with a minnow in the hand slowly opening.

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Treehouse song
Just an impression of you next to me
And the terrible sound of the clapping of leaves
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thoughts of a young girl
by John Ashbery



“it is such a beautiful day I had to write you a letter
From the tower, and to show I’m not mad;
I only slipped on the cake of soap of the air
And drowned in the bathtub of the world."


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I CAN'T SLEEP

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spies.

more spies.


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all the love
all the love inside you
feels my stare
getting closer to you
on the shore
sing your love
to the stars
that are guiding me back to you


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today is yesterday

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when i was a very small child of
photosensative

celluloid

eyes,

I saw my head laughing
rolling on the ground



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Ce n'était qu'un rêve

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Now as a little girl you must've been magic

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I can't stand what you do I'm in love with your eyes