unicidades

Sombras Del Puerto by Di Sarli.

Destructive Emotions: How Can We Overcome Them? A Scientific Dialog With The Dalai Lama. An Extraordinary Collaboration Between Buddhist Scholars and Western Psychologists, Neuroscientists, and Philosophers.

When I moved to the United Stated, National Public Radio was the best resource to learn English I had access to while at home and driving. I never thought it would come a day when I talk to a 23-year-old-Californian boy who has never heard of National Public Radio. Maybe I take myself for granted way too often.

I arrive on time. I see her barefoot standing on the grass wearing a purple jumpsuit covered by an old and artsy tank-top. It's sunny out. I smell the freshness of the outdoors. We go inside and then I see her boyfriend coming downstairs for the class. We are about to start. She finds a song for us to start dancing. She is wearing glasses and that makes her face look much more serious. No make-up. Just a simple heart necklace hanging from her neck. The necklace is made of bronze and silver. Her neck shows (I assume) a big allergy mark. Her hair was pulled back and, I suspect, unwashed, somewhat disheveled. She looks natural. We start the class by her telling me that now she would like me to focus on the energy of my hips and my gluteal muscles. She wants me to speak out loud with my tango. She goes on by saying that my upper body has to be the commander, I am in control of my body. My body has to give a message, it has to respond to the invitations the man I am dancing with makes.

Edwin, The Cat and Benjamin Solomon

I got my Goyeneche CD in the mail last night. It was a delight to listen to it. The CD has 12 tracks and all of them are good. Some of them stand out as my favorites. Tristeza De La Calle Corrientes, Torrente, Homero Al Sur, and Suerte Loca are for sure impressive. El Polaco is not for the dance floor, but I can't get enough of his music when I am at home practicing or just listening to music. I was going to write a post about each song and then their translations, but that seems like A LOT of work. These songs have amazing lyrics and somehow some lines just keep resurfacing in my head when I am listening to them. Pure poetry with a touch of humor and sarcasm, even when talking about love.

Dialog between a tango dancer daughter and a non-tango dancer father: -Dad, when you look at me and Luna dancing, what do you see? -Hm. -Like, what's the biggest difference you see? -She's not as stiff as you are. Ok, dad. Point taken.

Families usually get together tonight in Brazil to celebrate Christmas. Last year, I think my brother came to see me and then went to my sister-in-law's aunt's house. I stayed at home, got all dressed up for tango and took photos by myself. Then I undressed and went to bed. I still didn't have Edwin and Benjamin. My dad was in Brazil. I was not seeing anyone. It was a peaceful and lonely night. My brother just called me to invite me to go my sister-in-law's aunt's house. I told him I won't go. That I will see them tomorrow. True to be told I don't want to re-enact my sister-in-law's birthday night. I wanted to see my dad and my brother, but I just don't want to make the effort. I have been feelinfg sick these days. But I also don't want to hang out with them, my sister-in-law family (nothing personal). Not sure why. Not in the mood to the extended family thing. I would rather stay with Edwin and Benjamin in the sofa watching a good movie. Hope I

Title:  In J9 by David Lee 12.23.2011

I have always had a problem vocalizing what I need and what I want. I guess that's about to change.

The ticket to Buenos Aires: $800 The apartment I am renting for three weeks: $700 Three pairs of Comme il Faut: $450 Classes: $500 A new camera: $300 A ticket to go visit my hometown: $150 Ouch. Broke, but happy.

I am a true believer that relationships start the way they will endure. Sometimes they improve, sometimes they die. Sometimes they struggle and are sent to intensive care units. A few years ago I started a relationship that wasn't meant to be romantic. At the time, I didn't understand that the kind of feelings I had towards that person was love, but a fraternal kind of love. Somehow we managed to stay friends and reconnect after several attempts to stay away from each other on a friendly basis. One of the things I praised about my relationship with him was our sense of humor and the nice intelligent conversations we used to have. We even talk about tango since he's also a tango dancer. Often we disagree. But there were many times that we have also agreed. I care about him. And I also know that he cares about me. The pain he has inflicted me (that I now realize wasn't his fault) is now gone and I know that he didn't to hurt me as I didn't mean to hurt him either.

009 and her dad at La Ideal During salsa break, having fun.  It's a dark picture, but I was so happy to be with my dad.

For people who tango in South Florida there's a big divide on Sunday nights. Some people go to La Ideal and some people prefer CITA. I have been inclined to like CITA much more. It was my first milonga and I always liked their music better, especially after CS started playing the music there. Then I had a set of regulars there to dance with. I also like that at CITA there was no little groups of young people hanging out without the inclusion of new dancers or the cool people. CITA now for some reason is losing a lot of people. Music is still better, but it's usually empty at 10:30pm. Last night, I took my dad to La Ideal first. We stayed there until 10:50pm. And for the first time in several years, I headed to CITA. It was like dating two guys in one night, I guess. It was my first time going to both of them in one night. People I know usually go from CITA to La Ideal, but I always felt like the energy at La Ideal is dark and weird. Heavy. La Ideal was ok. I danced         with

Life.

It happens that I adopted Edwin by accident. He fell on my lap, so to speak. I wanted him to have a big family. More than the solitude of a single parent home. More than the solitude of a loner who is never home and wants to be busy all the time. I wanted Edwin to live with a less restless kind of caretaker, even more of a cat person. It was difficult to find him another home. At first, in my depressive state of mind, I wanted to get rid of him because I thought that I couldn't bear the thoughts of having to take care of an animal who sleeps, plays, eats all day long and even wants love from me. As time went by, I realized I couldn't just take Edwin to a cage in a shelter. I got so attached to him. I started to ponder that maybe, by getting another cat, Edwin would be happier. I found Benjamin's name and soon after I found mini Benji Soul. Scared, dirty, malnourished. Two hours after having him at home, I figured that he had to be Edwin's new brother. His eyes just di

009 Alone by 009 Key West 2009

You also have a wrinkle between your eyebrows. I touched it last night. I wanted it to go away. I felt bad for the times you have suffered. It made me want to cry. I wanted it to disappear from your face. I started feeling last night like I want you to be really happy.

I am having my first private with Luna Palacios on Saturday.

My flight to Buenos Aires has been booked! April 2012 it is! I cannot believe it. I am so happy.

At work today I have been asked to look for a biography on Kenny G. and Mozart. I was happy to find biographies only on Mozart. Signed: Guavita, The Mala.

This is the guy who wrote The Geography of Bliss, a book from which I read a couple of paragraphs to my good friend R. by a window at his apartment, a long time ago. I was embarrassed to be reading out loud in English, but that's a memory I will always treasure. I still remember it was sunny outside, not sure I was sipping something from a mug. Maybe some kind of tea for we were at the time in a very Japanese state of mind. The sky was blue and shy. We could see some sailboats out in the open ocean, almost where the sky kisses the water and happiness is a constant state from which you don't separate from. Not even when you are awake. The breeze by his desk was refreshing and yet sweet and warm. We were laughing and I was trying not to be too nervous. If I remember correctly, he was smoking a cigar. The sea was a few meters away. Colorful things gliding in the sky. Lucky him to have the ocean as a neighbor. We were reading Eric Weiner by the window and that now seems so idylli

It is possible to love again and to stop hurting myself. The plan now that I have past the turmoil of an old heartache is to take a writing class. I also want to take privates with my tango teacher once a week if possible. I need to find two more students to give private classes to. I guess my cats will miss me for a while.

Self-analysis: my dad is in town and we are spending some time together. We've been getting closer to each other every day and it's been nice. I remember when I was a little girl and then when I was a teenager. So many things to forget. I have been thinking about writing as a means to grow as a person. Does writing really have that power or I am just imagining things? Did I get to be too arrogant? Where was that I made a mistake? I may have to quit or stop tango for a while. I was so focused on being good and generous. Did I stop trying? I want to grow and yet changing is so difficult. My dad and I are going to New York in January and then I am heading to Buenos Aires in March. I have to work on a list of things that I want to do and see and buy. At least three pairs of tango shoes (not sure what for if I am quitting or taking a break) and music. Lots of music I can't find here not even on u tube. I am asking the universe to give me strength to keep on going. I ac

I am closing K's chapter. I have to be my best friend from now on. It's not so much that I have to change. I just need to stop hurting myself.

I could stay on this computer all night long writing about why we are not together anymore. Why I loved you. Why I have to move on.

I guess I was too wild for you. I guess I was. I guess. I. My first gut feeling was to run. That day on the phone I should have. But I felt like you wanted to take care of me. That's why I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Then. I got into this beautiful fucking stupid mess.

Konstantin is performing with someone else - her name is a mystery - this Sunday.

I feel the need to write and talk about you NONSTOP. I hate that. Our relationship had so many interruptions. It was never the same after the pregnancy. It was never the same after you betrayed my trust in so many ways. I found you on FB today. And it hurt. I don't know why. It hurts that I cannot be with you and accept you the way you are. It hurts that you lied to me so many times and that you drove me crazy so many times. It hurt me that you always said the wrong things in the wrong moments. It hurts that I cannot find happiness somewhere else. It hurts that our tango was. so good. It hurts to be stuck in tango without a partner and without practicing that much. It seems like we are really going to leave each other's lives for good. And it is sad to realize that I wasted so much energy, time and love on someone who couldn't appreciate any of that.

This reminds me so much of tango journey. The 30 Steps to Mastery The commenter Onjibonrenat, on my post How to Draw an Owl, adds a few more steps to the process of achieving mastery: 1. Start 2. Keep going. 3. You think you're starting to get the hang of it. 4. You see someone else's work and feel undeniable misery. 5. Keep going. 6. Keep going. 7. You feel like maybe, possibly, you kinda got it now. 8. You don't. 9. Keep going. 10. You ask for someone else's opinion--their response is standoffish, though polite. 11. Depression. 12. Keep going. 13. Keep going. 14. You ask someone else's opinion--their response is favorable. 15. They have no idea what they're talking about. 16. Keep going. 17. You feel semi-kinda favorable and maybe even a little proud of what you can do now. 18. Self-loathing chastisement. 19. Depression 20. Keep going. 21. You ask someone else's opinion--they respond quite favorably. 22.

Roma. Paris is a metaphor according to Cortazar. Maybe. We all are a metaphor. I am ready and it's too early. I listen to you and in disbelief I shake my head. My Skin is wrinkled and old and frail You don't touch me anymore. I miss t.h.a.t. I miss the roses awaiting on the table and your long and slender legs hugging me. I am almost reaching out to you. At least I pray that you are happy and will hear me. Your siren is calling you.

I heard on NPR last night that there's a new theory that can change the history of physics forever. The guy being interviewed talked about the universe being God's Symphony. I loved the metaphor. I hope to read the book.

J9 by David Lee 11/2011 - Wolf River Park

I have a new person in my life. Sort of. When did this happen? I have been revisiting that old chapter called K. Sometimes it seems impossible to ever love again. Sometimes it seems only possible to love you. I have looked at our old non-tango pictures. This new person is asking me to be fair. I have always sought to be a fair person. Not sure I was with you K. I wish I could apologize and ask you to forgive me. I look at my niece and I wonder what the baby would have looked like. I haven't told my dad yet. Not sure I will. I think we would have had a beautiful baby. But at this point I can only have suppositions. What if the baby looked like what it felt to be in your arms? What a beautiful child that would have been. Is my dad a new person to me? OR am I a new person to him? Is this new guy just a broken-hope? I don't know. At this point it seems like nobody is really normal. Not sure what to do with this relationship and its perks. Not sure what to do with my l