unicidades

  Image: Crazy Heart.  Country music has never appealed to me. For some reason, the melodies just don't do anything for me. Nevertheless, I like these two actors a lot and I decided to watch it. Over the years, I think I have become much more critical of movies and it's hard for me to find great movies. I look for certain qualities that are hard to find. It seems to me that the trend these days is to make movies about dark lives and then throw in there a positive ending after the endurance of some problems. At any rate, I liked the movie and I liked the soundtrack as well. I liked it in the movie. More than anything I liked the lyrics. Weary Heart is probably my favorite. I relate to Jean, (the main female character in the movie) a lot. I don't have a son, but we have many other things in common. She wants to be loved. She wants to be a writer. She has given men a chance and it has backfired. She goes against her intuition sometimes. One of my favorite quotes is when she i

My friend and I are writing an anger manifesto. We're going to explore the reasons why we are so angry. I don't know if I should start from the beginning (my past) or from my current days. Whether or not I will publish my portion here remains unsure.

I need a distraction. That's what keeps us on going.

It amazes me the number of people who complain about the same things I complain about in the dating scene here in Florida.

I knew I should have stayed home. Sometimes your own company is more than plenty.

A friend of mine invited me to go sailing with a bunch of people today. I feel so conflicted about going. I feel like canceling. I honestly don't have the least desire to do small talk today. I do know that if I stay home, I will be crying and going over the same s**t again. There was only one time in my life that I told someone I could not live without him. I don't feel like going anywhere. I want to crawl back in bed and wake up after, after so long.

May I never be afraid to fight for justice, even when it hurts me.

Last Tuesday I had agreed with two friends to go to a jazz concert. I had a very long day at work, but still wanted to go see this amazing musician playing live at an unconventional club in Miami Beach. When I got there, I realized I had been there before some long eight years ago. The feeling was so intense that it's almost like I am a different person. Entirely. When I left my Monday semi-private class and was driving home and the road seemed like this huge desert I had to cross, I was listening to my favorite jazz show and Jowee Omicil was being interviewed. His music made me forget everything. I was hypnotized by the notes he played. This particular song, Micky's Groove sent me to another world. So, I came home and googled him and then found out he was going to be at Jazid in Miami Beach. So I picked my friend up and headed to Espagnola way to meet my other friend. At the end, there were four of us. On our way there, my friend and I were talking about how angry we have b

Dance At My Funeral. life for me ain’t about all the hearts that you’ve broken or the lies that you’ve spoken it’s about the times that you’ve told the truth baby look back on the dough that i stacked, well i lost it but whatever the cost is, i’d do it all again with you if something should happen to me baby don’t you cry if something should happen remember how i lived my life dance at my funeral, would you dance? laugh at my funeral if you can dance at my funeral, would you dance? laugh if they call me home, if you can you could do the tootsie roll (u donʼt have to save it) you can do the cabbage patch (donʼt have to waste it) baby shake it, let it go (donʼt be frustrated) think about the fun we had (yeah yeah yeah yeah)

The man I came closest to loving thinks I am a w**re and not only that, he thinks I am psychologically impaired. Thank G** I have a good head over my shoulders and I will just keep on going. There's no point in fighting a battle in which you already have started as a loser.

Basta de clamares inocencia.

As vezes eu sinto um sentimento de tristeza que avassala tudo.

I am trying to write a story for a novel, but it never works.

I want to take you out of my heart. I want to forget both the good and the bad moments. I want to forget everything that made us special. All the things I have sought and never found before. Also, all the pain I endured. Our first break up, our first two weeks without talking before we broke up.  You kissing another woman in front of me after a tanda of tango when we were just starting. The things you kept from me, the things you did tell me. The fact that you still legally married to someone else. The things we didn't share. Your criticisms towards my way of dancing tango. Moments that we got distanced from each other. The first time you told me someone else was adorable and I could see it in your eyes that that gave you joy. The times I was sick and alone. When I went to two wakes by myself. That time you came with me to meet my friends. The Christmas dinner I prepared for us and our New Year's Eve evening. The movies that we watched that were, most of the time, not interesti

What am I thankful for this year?

There is something about men and women who flirt that drives me crazy. I've dated men who flirted and weren't even discrete about it. I've dated men who are the target of flirtatious women and that wasn't too appealing either. I find it so disrespectful to do that when people have a significant other or to encourage that kind of behavior. I guess anything goes these days and I am just old-fashioned.But I can't take it anymore. Somehow the wounds are still very fresh. The thing is I don't even know if they will ever heal.

I finally got a new iPod. I have music again! PS. It came defective!  I had to exchange it this morning.

The pair in the middle is the one most used both at classes and milongas. It is my first pair of Comme il Faut that I bought with the black and silver pair. For some reason the black and silver could never feel good while dancing on them. Each pair holds a special meaning to me. Some of them I am saving for the future, perhaps for a performance. Some of them need to be tamed. Some of them remind me of great moments.Some of them were worn by me only once. Most of them gave me great moments of joy. If I could leave this life that I have now and embark on a new journey, I'd certainly bring tango shoes with me. I hope there's tango over there.

Sade .She's always here to rescue me.

Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It is not. It is the opposite of vulgarity. Coco Chanel.

For many years after seeing someone whom I had known with short hair sporting an Afro (as my friend calls it), I always thought the person was wearing a wig. The thought itself always made me laugh a little. Not because I find it funny when people wear wigs (especially because of a medical condition). However, imagining that has always been a way to entertain my silly self. Now it's my turn to laugh at myself. It looks like I am wearing a wig. After four years of wearing my hair very short, this is the longest it's been. I am not used to it anymore and it does indeed look like a wig.

With him I lived my most beautiful dream and my worst nightmare.

...to understand that I did what I should have done in 2005. It's true that your memories cloud your judgment. After reading Mr. M's e-mails yesterday, I realized that there was never a real chance for connection. Yes, I was crazy about him. The way he looked at things, his intelligence, his strong character. And then I was left with Mr. M's impressions of me. The list of negatives and positives. Yes. Personality is everything in a relationship. Mr. M's list confirmed what I thought he thought of me. How sad! I moved on, Mr. M.  for good (at last!) and the guilt is gone. I am finally free. You were right, our love was impossible.

A voz de Nina Simone se espalhando pela casa. Ela diz: I put a spell on you...'cause you're mine... Como é que está o teu inglês? Eu estou em azul, azul do céu de imensidão do sul da Flórida, calor senegalês. Sem amarras, toda sorrisos. Sem nervosismos, serena portanto.   Os ventos que sopram agora cheiram a perfume, Amarige de Givenchy, para ser mais precisa. Já que as cartas de hoje em dia nos privam do toque e a distância nos priva do som de risadas desafinadas e olhares diretos, te descrevo o cheiro.   Porque aromas, perfumes e cheiros têm a capacidade de desvelar memórias, reencontrar saudades perdidas, aproximar. Eu mesma já estive nos cafés de Londres sem nunca ter estado lá. Antes que eu me perca nesses arroubos deixa eu te dizer que sim, eu tenho fantasias. É no plural mesmo. E que me pedir coerência seria como me pedir para deixar de existir. Te disse que tenho pressa por saber...ou achar que este encontro não vai durar muito. Como todos os outros. E

Tenho tido delírios insanos, vê bem que o caso é de muita gravidade:   Tenho te evocado, te sentido. Procurado teu perfume, teu abraço. Teu colo. Sentido saudade, te beijado de novo. Sentido tuas mãos. Tenho desejado afagos, toques leves e vagarosos. Sem hora para acabar. Dormir de conchinha, eu agarradinha em ti e tu em mim. Tenho desejado conversa ao pé do ouvido, música para dormir, andar no parque. Ler um livro prá ti. Voltar para casa para namorar. Nem sair da cama para ser namorada. Desarrumar a cama, ser agarrada pela cintura. Sentir arrepios e cócegas de tuas mãos, de teus lábios em mim. Tenho me visto rodopiar pela casa vestindo uma camisa tua. Tenho feito de conta que a gente dança um tango juntos e eu te mostro a letra da música e tu me falas do compositor... Me vejo ainda te dando minhas mãos e meus olhos na hora do amor. E depois. E depois eu quero mais de ti e tu queres mais de mim. De verdade.  

I thought I was an Akita, but I see that my situation is much more complex. I was reading about one of my favorite breeds online and found out that Brussel Griffons: due to their innate sense of self importance, they are not aware of their small stature. As a result, they will often try to dominate dogs many times their size and could be hurt by a larger pet. Maybe I am a Brussel Griffon after all. Yup. I think these seal the deal: The secret to training a Griffon is by making them think it was their idea (I don't think this will work with me because I perceive very quickly when people are trying to deceive me). They are  eager to please but cannot be forced to do anything. You cannot win an argument with a Griffon (yup, I concur...). They have a long memory and are unforgiving if they have an unpleasant experience. Brussels Griffons have a high degree of intelligence coupled with a sensitive nature.

To see more images like this one, click  here. ESPRIT D'EMERAUDE by Francois Auge.    Thee, hues of green. The poignant self at an arm's length. Embrace me for this shall be the way time passes us by. Let me age in your arms, surrender to colorful Spring, emerge from the vagueness of being one.  Languidecer. Let me fly into your Daliesque eyelashes for they are the most beautiful thee.

Love not only dies. Love agonizes and suffers. Love is like a living creature. It's born, it grows, it matures, and it dies. My love for you has died. Somehow. My romantic love for you has died. I love you as a friend. In the process, I tried to love you the best I could. Despite the red flags, despite my desire to communicate, despite the fact that I don't think you get much of who I really am. But who am I, anyhow? I don't even know. I tried loving you despite our opposing viewpoints in life, in tango. There was this you that I could see that I loved. But I guess the love that was born between the two of us wasn't strong enough (I don't even know if love is supposed to be strong enough) to last more than what it did. It actually lasted for quite a while. Some people might say too long. I've grown with you. I am thankful for the love that was born out of your soul for me. The love that really cared. Not the paternalistic love. But the pure love that I, sometime

Why Art? Does Art constitute a means? What's the purpose of Art? Why do people love Art? Is Art skill or pure inspiration, raw talent?

I am in love with the shoe repair man in my neighborhood. He makes my dancing shoes even better and they are, for the most part, Comme Il Faut, the Ferrari of dancing shoes. 

The carnation one day fell in love with a pineapple cake. No one knows if they lived happily ever after,  but their kiss was documented on this photo.

Getty Villa, in Malibu California. It's a very small place, but very nicely done. I enjoyed the gardens and the sculptures. The day was gloomy and a little cold. We were close to the Pacific Ocean and the air had that salty and fresh aroma. I was turmoil. I was fever and pain. The pain of longing for a life I didn't have, a lost love, and a raped hope.