Sometimes you need some fresh air. I don't know what it is about walking barefoot, even on the cement blocks which carve out the neighborhood, that I enjoy so much. Maybe it makes me feel a part of the world again. Sometimes you get lost in your own thoughts and the metaphysical bubble in your head gets too big, and you need to reconnect. Maybe its the opposite, feeling the hard ground beneath your soft steps helps you forget the world you live in and helps you form a bubble of your own- in which only you and the sensation brushing up your body with every step exists. Walking out and making the darkness part around you and it lets you wonder the land but still hugs your path, it is comforting to look down and see your naked feet, unfolding flashes of light beneath you- blink by blink- on the grey cement.
Toes and heel pushing off the ground, it might almost look like you're helping the world spin with every stroke. And I guess that's why it seems so scary to stop or slow down, would I fall off? or simply realize the world I imagine around me isn't at all what I thought it would be. Its getting clearer and clearer how little say people have in the world. My feet are tired of spinning the world without getting what I want out of it. With every step my feet get dustier and dustier... you figure out the metaphor
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
At the airport again...and I thought my trip just began yesterday
For the next eighteen hours this is my life. For the next eighteen hours this is my life. I train my eye to loose focus as it stares out of the three meter airport window out onto the arriving flights. My shoulders slumped; my head cocked, or rather fallen to the side I realise nothing is in focus. I am most probably only a few walls away from you but I might as well be miles away. And when the chimes of the airport wake me from my emptiness i stand up and follow the zombie herd to the passage way. No, of course not, they are not all zombies, some are quit happy: maybe they are just launching their own voyage, or going off to vacation, or reuniting with loved ones, but to me, I only see empty.For the next eighteen hours those airport chimes will be watch and I will train my ears to speak the language.
Life is a river, yes, and chapters are opened and closed as the river bends, and all of this has been pleeded to me, but to process this I have naively failed. Cant a river finally find its fill and be satisfied enough to stand still?
Why is happiness something we find in the ripples of the river and not the sand which is the foundation and what carries the river throughout its journey?
Enriched, I have absorbed so much, changed in some ways and reinforced my character in others. What makes me different from someone who has only read about Europe in books and websites: about every monument and every square and can recite to me the importance of each? Experience, thats what. The people that I have been have been unforgetable, the smiles and the giggles I will hear for all my life; the nuisances and the nuances have taught me to be patient and open; the joy, the hardships, the drinks, the debates, the adventures, braving the unknown, standing up for things that are right and things you believe in, and helping someone see something in a different light as they do the same for me. Not to mention I got to steel a pen from the Flying Pigs, and you couldnt do that by reading a book now can you !! And now thats all behind me..and now poof! and im home. Poof and im home!
Life is a river, yes, and chapters are opened and closed as the river bends, and all of this has been pleeded to me, but to process this I have naively failed. Cant a river finally find its fill and be satisfied enough to stand still?
Why is happiness something we find in the ripples of the river and not the sand which is the foundation and what carries the river throughout its journey?
Enriched, I have absorbed so much, changed in some ways and reinforced my character in others. What makes me different from someone who has only read about Europe in books and websites: about every monument and every square and can recite to me the importance of each? Experience, thats what. The people that I have been have been unforgetable, the smiles and the giggles I will hear for all my life; the nuisances and the nuances have taught me to be patient and open; the joy, the hardships, the drinks, the debates, the adventures, braving the unknown, standing up for things that are right and things you believe in, and helping someone see something in a different light as they do the same for me. Not to mention I got to steel a pen from the Flying Pigs, and you couldnt do that by reading a book now can you !! And now thats all behind me..and now poof! and im home. Poof and im home!
Sunday, July 20, 2008
An Aside...
Just a bit of a warning, please dont expect my last entry to be a happy one haha, so prepare to be deep, depressed, or get out of my kitchen hahah.
Rio Duoro, Porto (Portugal)- Last stop
To watch a city get dark while sipping on sweet wine, to watch the swarms of seagulls grow and drape the simmering sky and the sky breaking cathederal tower in the distance. The pastel rooftops, bleached my the ages of the sun, break the silence of the sky as the river running beneath echoes the violin and accordian blowing the symphany of old dirt stained fingers. I dont know this city but I feel at home amoungst the twinkle of the water and the twighlight of the sky.
The glimmering lights of the night remind the day that it is time to set, as me and my friends watch the shift change, spectators of a tradition as old and as inevitable to the universe as breathing is to us. Inhale..exhale...day...night...And just as the day can only last for so long, so can this moment. Thats what makes this voyage so incredible and so painful. As amazing as it was to be here, you must maintain this philosophy in your mind. Hard not to get attached. Heavier and heavier is the sand in my sand watch, pooring faster and faster as the sun sets inch by inch. With every next beat of my heart and every desperate breath that I take, I know that this does not last.
This city will remember my face, as the faces of all the locals, the travelers, the seagulls, the builders, the wreckers, the layers, the finders, and that is all that will be left of me here... a footprint.
The glimmering lights of the night remind the day that it is time to set, as me and my friends watch the shift change, spectators of a tradition as old and as inevitable to the universe as breathing is to us. Inhale..exhale...day...night...And just as the day can only last for so long, so can this moment. Thats what makes this voyage so incredible and so painful. As amazing as it was to be here, you must maintain this philosophy in your mind. Hard not to get attached. Heavier and heavier is the sand in my sand watch, pooring faster and faster as the sun sets inch by inch. With every next beat of my heart and every desperate breath that I take, I know that this does not last.
This city will remember my face, as the faces of all the locals, the travelers, the seagulls, the builders, the wreckers, the layers, the finders, and that is all that will be left of me here... a footprint.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Dachau Consentration Camp-The Vastness
Walking through the metal gates and bars that form the words "Arbait Macht Frei"..closing your eyes as you stomp through the pathway with the group you only hear the grinding of the rocks beneath the souls of your feet, an though the wind blows a chill that offers no comfort, the air is still. Still as the hearts of those who have been here. The heavy breaths around you resonate only for a second, and then are lost in the vastness of the yard, as lost as the prisoners once their souls were color-coded and then removed. These breaths are carried to the sky where the birds circling above, chirping of love and laughter, only taunt you as you sweat in shackles stained with innocence. The drizzle is appropriate, the drops they are not any heavier than the tear shed that has washed the soil for years, and the drops are not received with no more concern than those tears. The walls here do not glimmer and are cold and still; shameless as the eyes that befell and glared down towards whimpering hands-drawn out in plea. Cold as the walls the eyes were.
Out of the windows you will not find hope, only fear, and sunlight only meant in was time for more suffering, more tears blood and sweat- rest will come another time.
Bald floors without fuzz, as bald as the heads were shaved, as their dignities were shaved, as their humanity! Stepping on the bald floor and you feel as all that mentioned breaking underneath you.
The black and white posters are good reminders, and give a sample, but you do not hear the sharp voices and the pang of humiliation, you do not feel the warm blood dripping down as your bones are shattered, you do not feel the mass desperation as you push just one more inch so your life is spared; you do not see your father die or your mother wounded, or your child disappear- you only see a poster, and you say "wow, poor them".
The term "skin and bones" is rarely used as such an accurate description, but when a dandelion found on your work field is your salvation from hunger, and you must share its petals with your loved ones, the term has a much graver meaning. When your despair has eaten away any smiles you had hidden, and any laughter left in the glimmer of your memory, when your despair forces the only pure ounce of energy you've absorbed from that dandelion, to put your one blood stained knee in front of the other and crawl what remains of you across that white border line, because that is your only way out, only hoping that the screams of your people will bring help from beyond the walls, and the people of Dachau will carry your freedom. And as the bullit penetrates the back of your neck-home.
When you consider that, thats when you can respect life, and the breath you breath, and the people that make you smile.
As you walk out, past the barbed wired fence, leaving behind bad senses, a smooth river escorts you and bids you a due, as if trying to erase your goosebumps and trying to wash away what you've seen. Humming a sweet lulliby. But then at your last glance, to the left, you eye catches a sobering glimpse of the graves and ashes of thousands unknown, inscribed "Do Not Forget", and then you know no river of time can ever subdue the pain of this place.
Out of the windows you will not find hope, only fear, and sunlight only meant in was time for more suffering, more tears blood and sweat- rest will come another time.
Bald floors without fuzz, as bald as the heads were shaved, as their dignities were shaved, as their humanity! Stepping on the bald floor and you feel as all that mentioned breaking underneath you.
The black and white posters are good reminders, and give a sample, but you do not hear the sharp voices and the pang of humiliation, you do not feel the warm blood dripping down as your bones are shattered, you do not feel the mass desperation as you push just one more inch so your life is spared; you do not see your father die or your mother wounded, or your child disappear- you only see a poster, and you say "wow, poor them".
The term "skin and bones" is rarely used as such an accurate description, but when a dandelion found on your work field is your salvation from hunger, and you must share its petals with your loved ones, the term has a much graver meaning. When your despair has eaten away any smiles you had hidden, and any laughter left in the glimmer of your memory, when your despair forces the only pure ounce of energy you've absorbed from that dandelion, to put your one blood stained knee in front of the other and crawl what remains of you across that white border line, because that is your only way out, only hoping that the screams of your people will bring help from beyond the walls, and the people of Dachau will carry your freedom. And as the bullit penetrates the back of your neck-home.
When you consider that, thats when you can respect life, and the breath you breath, and the people that make you smile.
As you walk out, past the barbed wired fence, leaving behind bad senses, a smooth river escorts you and bids you a due, as if trying to erase your goosebumps and trying to wash away what you've seen. Humming a sweet lulliby. But then at your last glance, to the left, you eye catches a sobering glimpse of the graves and ashes of thousands unknown, inscribed "Do Not Forget", and then you know no river of time can ever subdue the pain of this place.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
People are you serious??
thanks for txting me that you read my blog, but can you people please write down a thought.. maybe even a full sentence :)
Saturday, June 14, 2008
No cows have been harmed
Italy... what can I say... more impressive than the David and the Sisteenth chapel are the men and the beautiful words they bestow upon us as we wonder blushingly through streets. They are enamored with our giggles and our "charm". They truly are gorgeous and have no shame or pride to stop them from approaching you on a whim- making eye contact is a dangerous skill to possess.
Whats more unforgettable is the food... cliche I know, but even after hearing about the power of the pasta I was still beside myself. I try to order chicken, or even steak.. but what my mind says "steak" my mouth utters "penne con scoglio" (ahh penne with seafood!!) i cant get enough, for some its coffee, for me its italian seafood! So much better than even the finest Staten Island can offer hahaha...
Visiting Rome was a dream come true, as Robbin Williams said in a movie once (ten points for those who know) I know what the Sisteenth Chapel smells like now, no longer going my an image I saw once in a textbook.
Napoli, famous for its food and amazing warmth was the most inviting... amoung some of the free treats from italian men were free taxi rides, free shots, free train tickets, AND getting away with not buying a ticket for a train (a fine of $60 WHICH IS NEVER WAIVED- except for us O=) haha). We were escorted everywhere we went and even at the slightest of brow furrowing, help was offered from every angle.
Scaling Mt.Mesuvious was not only challenging and thus fulfilling but also breathtaking! And consecutively so was Pompeii... YES we saw people that were mummified in ash- the most touching was one man that was in a squatting position who was found hiding in a closet. The ash settled 30 meters high(no clue what that is in feet but pretty damn high)
Yesturday was Tuscany.. there is nothing sexier than getting coaght in the rain amoung the streets of tuscany, armed only with our smiles and our whimsical laughs to shield us from the drizzle as it soiled the cobble stones paths on which we frolicked! Wine at an authentice Enoteca (winery) was supperb and the perfect side dish to the hillsides of Siena.
And today...
THE DAVID.... not even the most sturnest of "NO PHOTO" could have detered me from capturing the most powerful man ever emortalized my Michaelangelo! How many masterpieces can I witness... as the door in Marians bathroom stall truthfully and insightfully stated "today you have witnessed the greatness within us".. it was inspiring (well if you ignored the fact that you were peeing hahah)
Im very satisfied with Italy, it has beaten my expectations to a hundred degrees.. aimlessly walking through these ancient streets is more magical than anything I have yet seen or experienced! Dont mean to rub it in you laborers hahaha..MWAH!! Please leave a simple comment even... dont be shy :)
Whats more unforgettable is the food... cliche I know, but even after hearing about the power of the pasta I was still beside myself. I try to order chicken, or even steak.. but what my mind says "steak" my mouth utters "penne con scoglio" (ahh penne with seafood!!) i cant get enough, for some its coffee, for me its italian seafood! So much better than even the finest Staten Island can offer hahaha...
Visiting Rome was a dream come true, as Robbin Williams said in a movie once (ten points for those who know) I know what the Sisteenth Chapel smells like now, no longer going my an image I saw once in a textbook.
Napoli, famous for its food and amazing warmth was the most inviting... amoung some of the free treats from italian men were free taxi rides, free shots, free train tickets, AND getting away with not buying a ticket for a train (a fine of $60 WHICH IS NEVER WAIVED- except for us O=) haha). We were escorted everywhere we went and even at the slightest of brow furrowing, help was offered from every angle.
Scaling Mt.Mesuvious was not only challenging and thus fulfilling but also breathtaking! And consecutively so was Pompeii... YES we saw people that were mummified in ash- the most touching was one man that was in a squatting position who was found hiding in a closet. The ash settled 30 meters high(no clue what that is in feet but pretty damn high)
Yesturday was Tuscany.. there is nothing sexier than getting coaght in the rain amoung the streets of tuscany, armed only with our smiles and our whimsical laughs to shield us from the drizzle as it soiled the cobble stones paths on which we frolicked! Wine at an authentice Enoteca (winery) was supperb and the perfect side dish to the hillsides of Siena.
And today...
THE DAVID.... not even the most sturnest of "NO PHOTO" could have detered me from capturing the most powerful man ever emortalized my Michaelangelo! How many masterpieces can I witness... as the door in Marians bathroom stall truthfully and insightfully stated "today you have witnessed the greatness within us".. it was inspiring (well if you ignored the fact that you were peeing hahah)
Im very satisfied with Italy, it has beaten my expectations to a hundred degrees.. aimlessly walking through these ancient streets is more magical than anything I have yet seen or experienced! Dont mean to rub it in you laborers hahaha..MWAH!! Please leave a simple comment even... dont be shy :)
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