Sunday, March 18, 2007

verde que te quiero verde


and now an affabulatori.A word that comes from Latin, meaning fabula, a fable or a tale..sowith gusto and feeling.a monologue, d'apres Ascanio Celentini ,a Italian Actor who goes on stage for critical acclaim,with his divagation, solo, looking for clues in history, about the horror we arefacing now, roots in the Nazi's devastating invasion, the rape of Europe.Rape.In every sense.Of course, in America, it is difficult to talk about this theme.There is a wall.The lies that cover the truth are deep and slowly pulling through.but as my mother would joke:" Until the fat man loses weight, the slim man dies....."So let's go for the boring mundane.The door opens and closes.The window is there. Go figure.Brush your teeth everyday and smile.The whiter, the better?Oh no.I cannot stay away from the shadows that I live with.There is always that inquiring desire.Nature played a number yesterday. We had a lovely blue sky, which made me dream and lose myself in imagination.My computer crashed on me. Just a machine. And here I feel like a limb of mine, cut off from me???Standing there dead. I feel like my intestines, were pulled out.eh, a theme for me to do drawings, besides my BRAIN cycle series, not a bicycle.I have to reconfigure how to deal with that new situation.My coffee machine is out of commission, few days agowhen my son Jacob, broke the steam handle, by accident.So no coffee for me, no cappuccino that I like to make.....Ah, mondo machina....I miss the green ,the tropical, sensual green. TheBrazilian green that I grew up with.I am not a snow being.
Not a cold animal.A hot tamale, as my friend Ham, would call me every time he saw me. I always like tabasco in my chicken soup, which I make from scratch.Inside me, a song,gilberto gil's xodo,"que falta que eu sinto de um bem, que falta me faz um xodo, mas como eu nao tenho ninguem, eu levo a vida assim tao so, eu so quero um amor, que acabe o meu sofrer, um xodo pra mim, do meu jeito assim, que alegre o meu viver"And I feel like a volcano.I want to create, I want to dance, I want music, Spanish cheese, membrillo and a drop of wine on my lips.Just for taste.Flavor,fervor, ardor,as I remember time ago, a friend of mine the writer Luis Carlos Lisboa, would commentArdor....about something I cannot recollect,ardor,humor,candor, eh, la vita e mobile......

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