a recollection:

you and I used to always go to the same Moonstruck diner and eat the same order of veggie and animal burgers.

Sitting by the same decorative fish tank (empty of assumptions, inhibitions, and fish), we would place our hands on the same small cold colorful tiles. We would look and ask each other same meaningful questions like what our favorite smell, sight, or sound is on Christmas morning.

We loved doing the same things, same walks, same nights, same talks
over and over
and over and
over
realizing that in fact each time was never actually the same, and that "same" is just another word for "not knowing how to make each time mean something."

william fitzsimmons

today I discovered William Fitzsimmons, "one of the oddest people you will ever meet. Born the youngest child of two blind parents, William was raised in the outskirts of the steel city of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Due to the family's inability to communicate through normal visual means, William's childhood home was filled with a myriad of sounds to replace what eyes could not see.
The house was suffused with pianos, guitars, trombones, talking birds, classical records, family sing-a-longs, bedtime stories, and the bellowing of a pipe organ, which his father built into the house with his own hands. When his father's orchestral records were not resonating through the walls, his mother would educate him on the folk stylings of James Taylor, Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan, and Simon & Garfunkel. By the completion of his youth and schooling, Fitzsimmons had become well-versed at a variety of instruments, at the minor expense of social standing, interactional skills, and a knowledge of proper shaving technique."

I highly recommend him. He is earthy.

http://www.williamfitzsimmons.com/


This is the first song of his I listened to:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T3AB6NrfiaM

i thank you God for most this amazing

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes

(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)

how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?

(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)


- E. E. Cummings

under the drawer

the button that tumbled off
last year’s soft winter coat
never made it back to
form part of the ensemble.
nonetheless, you realize how at its best
it vividly protected you from oblivion.

hija de la mar

Muchacha, corazón o sonrisa,
caliente nudo de presencia en el día,
irresponsable belleza que a sí misma se ignora,
ojos de azul radiante que estremece.

Tu inocencia como un mar en que vives-
qué pena a ti alcanzarte, tú sola isla aún intacta;
qué pecho el tuyo, playa o arena amada
que escurre entre los dedos aún sin forma.

Generosa presencia la de una niña que amar,
derribado o tendido cuerpo o playa a una brisa,
a unos ojos templados que te miran,
oreando un desnudo dócil a su tacto.

No mientas nunca, conserva siempre
tu inerte y armoniosa fiebre que no resiste,
playa o cuerpo dorado, muchacha que en la orilla
es siempre alguna concha que unas ondas dejaron.

Vive, vive como el mismo rumor de que has nacido;
escucha el son de tu madre imperiosa;
sé tú espuma que queda después de aquel amor,
después de que, agua o madre, la orilla se retira.


- Vicente Aleixandre

idiosyncratic measures

a calm, quiet event in which I wake up to the soft, indistinct sound of morning.

My sheets are smooth and gentle, like that worn t-shirt you found looking through the drawers at your grandmother's house. The shirt's nostalgic smell reveal that she has kept this shirt for years; folded and kept in that miniature box of antiquity and treasure.
Not only that, the colors of the logo "Barcelona, 1995" have discretely faded and you instantly know that this shirt has been places
and has been worn by numerous individuals who managed to experience situations that could have dramatically altered or quietly unperturbed their lives.

(like the sand to the ocean,
the sky today is the sun's frame).


I understand that making sense of such an abstract world can be somewhat exhausting.
So today I propose an exercise, to be practiced whenever your heart decides to center itself and postpone the myriad of distractions Society unfortunately offers:

Focus on your ability to distinguish textures, colors, shapes, and shades. Start by focusing on people's hair- short, stubble, long, wavy, curly, straight... Try to describe in detail what distinguishes one person's hair from another person's hair. Each hair is different. You know it, I know it, she knows it. Now try to say why.

Then switch to leaves or any other article of nature. As you're walking down or up the street to your desired destination, just take a moment to point out a leaf or two. Notice how the colors and shades differ, and try to articulate how it is that each leaf is different from each other.

The point here is to develop expressive skills of differentiation. To develop the ability to individualize every single thing you encounter, and to understand that each thing and person in itself is unique, singular, and worthy of being described in detail.

Then,
focus on your depth perception.
Recognize that Your perspective determines how you see, view, and interpret the world.

Yes,
Notice how the world shifts as you move along within it.

minerva.

Knowledge acquired from the study of books,
from speculations of the intellect,
is usually an acquisition of the mind and remains as such.
It may give a perspective to life,
a conception of the right direction,
but little more.
It does not normally influence one's mode of living, much less become a force for change for the elevation and transmutation of life.
It tends to form, in fact,
a construction of its own,
a limiting groove beyond which
man cannot conceive anything or move.

Love, however, is a power of another kind.
It is dynamic.
A miscalculating and spontaneous love-
be it for any one, man, woman, child or the Divine-
sweeps the whole being in its surge and orients more and more of it towards its object.
It is an irresistible movement of self giving,
self modification.
And I, a perpetrator of reckless imagination
have decided to participate in this Love.
And share it with all of you.