unicidades

My Last Hours in Madrid Parque del Retiro September, 2015.  Sonhei em conhecer Espanha por muitos anos. Esta foto e das minhas ultimas horas em Madrid, no dia da minha partida, do meu retorno a casa. O Parque do Retiro e um lugar super especial, com cascata, castelo de cristal, lago e muitas arvores frondosas. Musica de tocadores de rua. O sol entra pelas folhas, deixando tudo mais dourado. Tinha eu nessa manha os olhos tristes e cansados. Havia eu feito uma confissao na noite anterior. Dissera-te que nao podia mais. Que tinha o peito cansado de arfar amor. Um amor que nunca poderia ser. Tinha os olhos cansados por saber que a partida seria definitiva. Que o retorno seria vazio. Que a esperanca havia roto como as folhas que tornam-se marrons no outono e caem. sao bonitas, mas mortas. Bonitas, mas secas. Fenecem com cor. Caem pouco a pouco. Como haviam caido minhas lagrimas e meus solucos na noite anterior. Desisti do amor. E dessa esperanca tao teimosa de encontra-l...

Granada was fresh and fragrant in the morning. The river woke me up. The patio windows were opened the night before. We were in a castle, a little breeze and sunshine touching my skin and your skin. You held me close in the morning. Reality never sank in. We walked the night before to feel Spain under our feet together for the first time. The city was empty, it was just me and you and stones. It was late and we walked and walked miles and miles to come back to the point where we had started. So many hidden places to walk through. So many names to remember. The hotel was so perfect. The bed and the windows. Long windows. Wood windows. White linens. The small old patio facing the Alhambra. It was my first night in Spain. Granada was so mysterious then. And we were still learning how to deal with ourselves and our aspirations. My decisions so firm and so in line with "I don't want to suffer another loss". And in the morning I drank champagne. To celebrate life, I s...

Sevilla En Sevilla nuestros silencios decidieron no callar. No se si serían las calles de piedra o Giralda que nos hicieron hablar todo. Con prisa y afán. Desde del cielo a la noche y desde el alto de un edificio tu y yo contemplando la noche y las torres. Nuestra música y nuestros sentidos. Con la bendición del Guadalquivir. Otra vez nos vimos delante uno del otro. Sin mascaras. Esta vez ya un poco mas libres: tu y yo. Dos ańos después. Es fácil decir ahora que el tiempo parecía no haber pasado. Pero si pasó el tiempo. Y muchas cosas vivimos en dos años. Y nada. De que están hechas las noches sin ti, sin caminar lado a lado. Sin escuchar tu acento y escuchar tus historias. Sin viajar estando en un mismo lugar o sin darme cuenta que a veces me puedes leer la mente. Sin sentir el sol de Sevilla en mi piel a tu lado y los olores a jazmín por todos los lados es como estar en un laberinto, personaje inventado. Fue un llamado.  No a la oración. 

It is poetry that I now see Both in you and me

Our bodies moved always together Always one You caressed me first when we danced I slowly started understanding what you meant After each movement My fragility surrenderring to your embrace  Multiform No fear The ability to feel you  With an unknown intensity Our bodies moved And your avocado eyes knew me I marked the floor with my heel Rescued my soul with my hand  by touching yours Purifying and cleansing it With each note we danced We touched We toasted to life with our bodies Simplified the absurdity of time Encoutered each other in many ways Dressed and dancing Naked and loving  Talking and laughing Sleeping and embracing

I haven't felt piercing eyes like these before. They just stood there trying to understand mine. Looking for something. Starring at my eyes like a if they were a novelty of sorts. With a strange force. Magnitude. Power. and yet we moved. At first, I was confused. Didn't know what to make of your eyes. Your energy. My energy next to yours. We blended you and me. I am not sure how it happened. It was all so quickly. I have always wondered. We were so in sync. You and me Two completely strangers who quietly held hands And felt The tango triumph Peace at last I thought Seeing the big boats and the moon Some lightning in the ocean and  resting in your arms Caressing your lips and feeling your hands Under the stars No fate, no destiny Just our lives intertwined for we don't know why it was time to be free

On missing a town and my mom, and music.  People often ask me if I miss Porto Alegre. The best answer to the question is that I don't really think about it anymore. My mom died and what followed was a complete hiatus between my life and the life we used to have. That life is now preserved by my memories that sometimes flash thru my mind at various parts of my days. Sometimes while I am dancing, sometimes when I am driving, or when while I am listening to music. Music has always been my way to connect to things, places and people. Don't think that will ever change.  Janine by Nada Skaf Last night I went out dancing and the place was beautiful, but with not that many people to dance with. I sat there  listening to tango and the DJ played this very beautiful segment that brings out in me all my South-Americanism.  It brings out the streets of Porto Alegre, the red sunsets, my walks from the University to my first job, my mom, Brazilian Music, the most ...