Though in other ways a fantastic beginning to the rest of this living. I'm stretching out the time in Salvador more just like I did in Rio I can tell that I will. Though the "flexibilidade" in my airplane ticket and my life only goes so far. Classes will start, a new Chicago move awaits, and I absolutely must visit my grandma the minute I get back. I will insert a few more blissful, tropical weeks --->there. And then we'll see.
I've been waiting and waiting and I'm blooming.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
12 minutes or less
until a few new friends come to my apartment in Salvador and we spend an evening drinking and simply enjoying. Maybe forro, maybe just caipirinha.
I have no idea if anyone reads this blog at this point but it's a fun outlet at moments. When I have enough time to stop to think about myself, I remember that I think in narrative form. As if I'm writing the book of my life as I live it. I write as I live in my head. If only I could insert a little laptop up there. Maybe someone will invent that one day. I only re-realize this about myself when I have time to. If I'm moving about frantically, there is no time for head narration and I am simply swimming in somebody else's book.
Since I have a few quicky minutes and a rising mood because I'm about to see lovely people....
Brazil, what I love: a gazillion fruit and plants I've never heard of before that make it all the more dr.seussy exotic like cupuacu and guarana and cacau, people that are blunt and sexual and sometimes even more starving for human connection than I am, music-making in all corners, attempts at creativity and sweetness by strangers, trustworthy friends made within a few minutes time, men who zip up my backpack as I walk down the street, capoeira - a fleshy celebration of every muscle that hurts so good the next day....
what I don't love: being pegged as a money pot and stalked, attempts at thievery and deceit, racism, lack of hot water, electric showers that can easily shock and kill you, hungry children, terrifying cops, crack everywhere popped like a tic tac
I have no idea if anyone reads this blog at this point but it's a fun outlet at moments. When I have enough time to stop to think about myself, I remember that I think in narrative form. As if I'm writing the book of my life as I live it. I write as I live in my head. If only I could insert a little laptop up there. Maybe someone will invent that one day. I only re-realize this about myself when I have time to. If I'm moving about frantically, there is no time for head narration and I am simply swimming in somebody else's book.
Since I have a few quicky minutes and a rising mood because I'm about to see lovely people....
Brazil, what I love: a gazillion fruit and plants I've never heard of before that make it all the more dr.seussy exotic like cupuacu and guarana and cacau, people that are blunt and sexual and sometimes even more starving for human connection than I am, music-making in all corners, attempts at creativity and sweetness by strangers, trustworthy friends made within a few minutes time, men who zip up my backpack as I walk down the street, capoeira - a fleshy celebration of every muscle that hurts so good the next day....
what I don't love: being pegged as a money pot and stalked, attempts at thievery and deceit, racism, lack of hot water, electric showers that can easily shock and kill you, hungry children, terrifying cops, crack everywhere popped like a tic tac
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
pulled into context and loving the living
I'm boiling water without olive oil. It's a kind of useless traveler's way to make pasta but will work just fine. Especially as there is still tomato sauce in the fridge and tomato sauce has oil and salt and all the fixings in its fine little packet.
I mainly blog on slow or tired days when I either really feel like writing something creative or want to procrastinate from doing something else. This is a rainy, tummy achey kinda day.
I can hear the sounds of traffic 13 floors down. I could go over to Carlos' house for wine and snacks and random company. I could keep working on an essay I owe a kind professor, fascinating I swear, on the body in lusophone space.
I also, should get back to writing that groundbreaking novel the world will so love eventually and which will so improve my lifestyle. Mhm. The question is always finding the time and space, mental and physical to produce. To do. Do. Do.
There's some low budget Brazilian soap opera playing on low volume on my tv, there's a woman attempting to melodramatically jump out of a lexus to proclaim her anger as she parades down the highway in stilettos only to stop a giant yellow truck in and jump in. I plan on a less dramatic evening of pasta and writing but who knows, I'm constantly pulled into context these days. ;)
I mainly blog on slow or tired days when I either really feel like writing something creative or want to procrastinate from doing something else. This is a rainy, tummy achey kinda day.
I can hear the sounds of traffic 13 floors down. I could go over to Carlos' house for wine and snacks and random company. I could keep working on an essay I owe a kind professor, fascinating I swear, on the body in lusophone space.
I also, should get back to writing that groundbreaking novel the world will so love eventually and which will so improve my lifestyle. Mhm. The question is always finding the time and space, mental and physical to produce. To do. Do. Do.
There's some low budget Brazilian soap opera playing on low volume on my tv, there's a woman attempting to melodramatically jump out of a lexus to proclaim her anger as she parades down the highway in stilettos only to stop a giant yellow truck in and jump in. I plan on a less dramatic evening of pasta and writing but who knows, I'm constantly pulled into context these days. ;)
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