unicidades

To NR. My heart feels so tight today. It needs an outpouring— of grief and joy, of all the things that make it so heavy, so dense. A stampede of emotions, disconnected hues. It just rained here. The sky was dark, and sad. But now—light, breezy, hot and humid. You remember, don’t you, What it feels like in Florida after the heavy rain? I even saw a rainbow today. It made me think of our jokes, our giggles. And we could giggle— still. I feel fortunate that I had the rain, the clouds, the rainbow, and now the sun and a blue sky. For fleeting moments, yes— but still. I have the memory of them, at least for now. And Flamenco is playing, saying softly: te quiero. It resonates almost like the sound of almonds as spoken by you— in the whispering escaping from your lips, unsolicited eroticism and yet welcomed. In the same way, I feel fortunate to have experienced us. Even if it was only a fraction of time— a Dali clock, melting away. Our time together, shaped by ...

  Âmbar Song by Maria Bethânia ‧ 1996 Overview Lyrics Lyrics 'Tá tudo aceso em mim 'Tá tudo assim tão claro 'Tá tudo brilhando em mim Tudo ligado Como se eu fosse um morro iluminado Por um âmbar elétrico que vazasse dos prédios E banhasse a Lagoa até São Conrado E ganhasse as Canoas aqui do outro lado Tudo plugado, tudo me ardendo 'Tá tudo assim queimando em mim Como salva de fogos Desde que sim eu vim Morar nos seus olhos 'Tá tudo assim queimando em mim Como salva de fogos Desde que sim eu vim Morar nos seus olhos 'Tá tudo aceso em mim 'Tá tudo assim tão claro 'Tá tudo brilhando em mim Tudo ligado Como se eu fosse um morro iluminado Por um âmbar elétrico que vazasse dos prédios E banhasse a Lagoa até São Conrado E ganhasse as Canoas aqui do outro lado Tudo plugado, tudo me ardendo 'Tá tudo assim queimando em mim Como salva de fogos Desde que sim eu vim Morar nos seus olhos 'Tá tudo assim queimando em mim Como salva de fogos Desde que sim eu vim ...

I can't keep up with the days. It gets dark quickly. Time is getting away from me. More lines, more challenges. But there is also more music. Sometimes I need to rush. Creativity has become something that I need to contain because that also helps me contain the pain. I am free. My eyes are still the same. They remind me of yours still. Maybe that is just a coincidence. I went to the Dali museum again, and what a mind trip that was. Sometimes I cry, but that's been more difficult. I wonder if I am just more resilient or just a jaded middle-aged woman. I can't keep up with time and the intensity of being. Being takes so much energy. Rilke once again speaks to my soul.  I’ll Always Belong to Myself Rainer Maria Rilke I’ll always belong to myself Even as many times as I’ll try to give myself away And as many times as someone else will try and take it I will always belong to myself and you’ll always belong to yourself Unions are not formed by giving yourself away but by coming t...

  Balls and Pins

It finally dawned on me. There's no fairy tale. There's no special true love. There will be no house with big dogs. No pot of gold. I got the news you are dying - and I don't want to make this about you. Because it has always been about you. But the finitude of life was also presented to me this year. Diagnosis: a potential aneurysm. Dying is fine by me. I made my peace with it a long time ago.  When Soul Meets Body People are just learning how to be alone and distant. Personal peace takes precedence amidst the chaos of life. One of my greatest fears has ever been the thought that being alone is better than loving someone. I have mastered being alone. I can even say it feels good.  Lately, Rilke is good company:  Fire's Reflection Perhaps it's no more than the fire's reflection on some piece of gleaming furniture that the child remembers so much later like a revelation. And if in his later life, one day wounds him like so many others, it's because he mistook...

 Sometimes it feels like I am the one who waits. Waits to be chosen.  Always.

My Dimples of Venus and Your Blue Eyes  I now admire my dimples of Venus. They are mesmerizing. It took me some time to get here, at this stage of self-admiration.  Is there any meaning in having them? I am building my self-esteem up from shattered glass. The fire is back. I now hear people saying you are very strong, and I agree. It's the forza my best friend talks about. I call it courage.  Your blue eyes. The catalysts. I revisit the past in black and white. Your blue eyes are still my weakness.  I have always searched for you, and then I stopped looking. It seems like you had been there all along, and I didn't realize. It was like searching for air. It was all around me and yet invisible.  I want the sun to burn my skin again. The vitality of the day entrenching my pores with joy and sweat. The perks of being close to the ocean. The second most perfect place after your blue eyes. I need you to make me yours with resolution and a brave spirit. I don't want cr...

When music hits my soul. Inevitably. You are here with me and a tear drops. I'm not sure what happened to the walls. The wind is blowing and my face burns. I read your words. Your riddles. I went silent. Shocked perhaps by the audacity. It was a surprise.  I have my own riddles.  This.  I have known this song for more than thirty years. It always touched me. Now I know why. Now that I understand the words. It makes sense. Imagine not having that love anymore.  I have sounds to keep me company, like this one  and this one . Pay close attention to the words.  It seems like we always run in circles, doesn't it?  And no, I don't want to drop you a note. Have you become single recently? Are you in town? Are you going to give me an ultimatum like the last time?  Things have changed. I am tired. I am exhausted. I have no energy for games. Never have, but now. Now things are different. Time does weigh into the equation. Now that runs so deep. I do carry y...

The Roseate Spoonbill Photo by Dan Garver Location:  Loxahatchee National Wildlife Refuge in Boynton Beach. I am an avid enthusiast of beauty. Few things I like more than the sky and the ocean. And birds carry so much intrinsic beauty. I don't write much anymore. Somehow my energy has diverged. I feel stifled by life at the moment. 

Unresolved pain. Nostalgia. Fire. Vivid dreams at night. Immense love.  I read the other day something an old friend once told me. Go back to what you were good at when you were a child. That's where your natural talent is. I go back, and so many things come up. So many interests. Infinite curiosity. I loved words when I was a child. But I also loved animals and nature. I also loved music and poetry. The beach made me go without sleep. I also loved to dance. I remember attracting people's comments while dancing at parties. Not because I was good but because I did my own thing.  I also liked cooking and baking from an early age. Books were also my private world.  But who am I now, forty years later?  I listen to Riccardo Cocciante, and my heart fills with raw emotion. How can someone be so good and write the most beautiful songs? I need to understand Italian better, but what I know and feel with his songs is beyond anything material.  The power of art has to move...

I used to think I was good with words.  Until Today was a special day.  I am afraid there's no way the blend we are will ever change/disappear. For good or bad. You are with me in the things I see. The lasting memories. I move forward in the empty space that is possible. I carry your heart. I saw a leaf heart last night. I don't believe in signs, not anymore. But there it was. A big heart, a big leaf. And the memory of you. The blue memory of you.  Marrying someone else will not change what we were.  I read the other day about biocentrism and how death doesn't really exist. How time doesn't exist. Sometimes I sense five years haven't really happened gone by. It's a physical experience. I relive our experiences in my head. I wish I had more memories. I wish I could remember more.  That's all I know.  At last, sound and scent. 

 I am tired, and my body hurts. I have been studying non-stop for almost three years, and I haven't had the time to think (an exercise I praise and miss). Thinking connects me to feelings. I stand here a month a half away from graduating. I persisted when I wanted to rest. I rested when it was not possible to keep going. I pushed my physical and intellectual abilities and limitations to obtain this degree. I am inspired to help others.  A friend today commented on how good of a student I am. I am not. My attention is fleeing and flows away from me. It's just 100% effort and a constant battle to focus and concentrate.  I had to stop looking and finding meaning because I was burning. The candle burns at both ends. That poem is not mine but suits me well. The journey is long, and it has just started. This experience has taught me so much more than a skill. I am inspired. I hope the sacrifice will be worth it. 

 Found this song recently and it did find me too. It is a  song for posterity.  High on a Mountain Ola Belle Reed High on the mountain oh wind a blowing free thinking about the days that used to be. High on the mountain standing all alone wondering where the years of my life have flown. As I look at the valleys down below they were as green just as far as I could see. As my memory turned oh how my heart did yearn for you and the days that used to be. High on the mountain oh wind a blowing free thinking about the days that used to be. High on the mountain standing all alone wondering where the years of my life have flown. Oh, I wonder if you ever think of me or if time has blotted out your memory. As I listen to that breeze whisper gently through the trees I'll always cherish what you meant to me. High on the mountain oh wind a blowing free thinking about the days that used to be. High on the mountain standing all alone wondering where the years of my life have flown.

Photo by Dan Garver.   May 1st, 2022. In Bridgeport, Connecticut.  May 1st is Labor Day in Brazil. Cheers to hard work and dedication! The date couldn't be more appropriate. 

Photo by Dan Garver Title by J9: Twin Flames Hard to define where we start and where we end. I know I still carry your heart with me. When I saw this image, I thought of what we are. One relentless flame burning in the midst of what is happening around. I sometimes do not know who I am anymore. Do you see how in this picture there are two flames in one? I still don't understand how that is possible.  The sound of "Take My Leave of You" echoes in the house. I am not alone. I am never alone, and yet you left.  This past week was crazy. Busy, intense. Full of tears. You, my soldier. Me, your queen. I carry much of the soldier inside of me.  "Should we meet in the sunrise, stand one last time as two" I wish you could listen to this song. I hope you can understand the way I feel it. But you were never good at understanding me, were you?  I sometimes wonder how much of your professed love was real, authentic. None?  Walk down to the water Stare out across the blue Lo...

The architecture of the city is plural and restless. Your voice comes and goes. The sky was pale blue today. White here and there. Clouds. Whispers.  Our dialog is more vivid now. I still see how intense your eyes are. You come and go from me. But I know you never really leave. At least, that is the illusion that keeps me - going? I see patterns. They make sense. Like you made sense a while ago. I can't reason with Love, can I? Love, this palpable, irrational measurement of attachment and desire.  I don't know if you are the same anymore. The same I knew.  Did I ever know you? It doesn't matter because you fit like a symptom fits a disease. You fit my fantasy. My fantasy was so concrete and so tangible. I play us in my head. If I had. If you had. But history doesn't rewrite itself.  I can't walk down the street to try and find you.   Unchanged sea. Under the same sheltering sky. I love you.

Winter seems long, long, and intense - some type of fog. It's a hazy Winter. It is dark out, it is too early to be dark. I had a dream the night before last. You were with me. Our eyes were twins - sad eyes. Deep eyes. We were smiling at that thought. You are a distraction from the mundane. Ocean Eyes, just like the song. I tell myself it is for the better to talk to you from a distance. The ocean you showed me is vibrant and almost tastes like Summer. I want to dive into those waters and never leave. I want the Summer to be back so that I can be at the beach savoring my solitude. There is no better place than the ocean. The ocean in your arms. I open my eyes - it is still Winter. The landscape has not changed since. Since the day you left. 

Someone I loved   This is for you, who came and went. I carry your heart, you know I do. You never left. There was never just me. We have always been two, two in one. I am still talking to your heart. Call me crazy. From my window I new lights. New colors. The horizon is bright.  and  yet Are you tired of my voice in your head? I can't not talk to you. Everywhere I turn, I still see you. There are memories that persist. Dreams that come back. Voices that I hear. You are. I wonder every day. From this tiny window. Birds fly across the beautiful cold sky. They are going somewhere. Living perhaps? It is a shame how things turned out. The warrior who didn't fight. The queen who was never crowned.  Empty spaces, time echoing around my face. The absurd loneliness of finding that I am nothing but a shell. e. e. cummings have mercy.

To The Wonder by Terrence Malick  He combines music and image in such a way that my senses tremble every single time I watch one of his films. Slow and captivating, an intricate narrative into what happens inside of the soul. To The Wonder captures well my present self. Here and there. Two women in one. One that lets herself be loved by the love that loves her. I also am another woman who loves your blue eyes and the sense of being one.  Intertwined somewhere in there, a sense of found and lost faiths. Attentive eyes into the miracle and deep state of being alive and all its wonders and miseries.  I no longer wait for. I exist in the present tense. A less intense soul, pervaded by a more subtle taste of colors and wonder. You are my shadow, still. The presence I now know. The same way Terrence portrays the broken souls and the yearning to belong in To The Wonder. Is life really a miracle? A dream? The questions remain: why have I met you? Why did I seek you in the first p...

  Happens To The Heart I wonder what is going to happen to you. Now and tomorrow when you get tired of your new life. When the new way becomes old, just like I became old. What is going to happen to you, when you realize there's no way out from this. There is no way you can hide. There is no way to erase it. The scar is too deep, the memories too intense. Maybe it is just me. But sometimes I feel like it's not. That the fog of us also embraces you. You change jobs. Move away and still. What happens to the heart? What you are going to be tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. I don't want you just when I want you. Because I never stopped wanting you. You are the one my heart has chosen. Not now, not yesterday. Many years ago. It is like being hungry for someone. For your pores, your scent. Animal and spiritual in one. Bright and dark. You are my prison and my secret. I can't escape it. The fiber of me is tangled in the blue that you are. What happens to the heart? Cu...