a way life unfolds I am back - to the mystic place that resonates with me, in me. I still remember when I first arrived here, years ago, looking around, connecting immediately. At the final destination that time the air was warm and slightly humid, pregnant with the sweet smell of the remains of a sugar cane field.
So I am back and I recognise the places; places that are an embodiment of possibilities. The possibilities of connecting humanity, transcending stereotypes, of which there are many.
So I am back and I can recreate over and over in a new context that is as fluid as the last, breathing with history of what once was and which transgressed into today.
So I am back to a fundamental love to take the past into the future. The events step by step are as important as they are not: it is about breathing and living and faith. Comfortably I detach from hunger for success and the fear of failure - to learn, love passionately, and write.
My days are dedicated to making sense of what can be and connecting "reality" to the future - creating opportunities where there were none. Connecting individuals, giving them the opportunity to connect to themselves above all and live their dignity.  ¶ 5:38 PM 0 Comments  

  we can
chat for hours passionately
plan trips around the world
share dreams
discuss business
bitch about customers
fascinate each other
solve the world's problems
indulge in complex solutions
simplify
just enjoy being together

my love, respect and admiration for this man just keeps growing

how proud I am to have such a father  ¶ 11:40 AM 5 Comments  

  missing
in a perpetual state of missing, the place I miss is still London, it was London, has been London and forever will be London. It is everything about it - the lit streets at night, only crystal shop windows, small gardens before terraced houses, light behind wooden window frames, leafy parks, scary roundabouts from my bike, late night sessions at the library or the annual fund, my small house - life on a staircase, our roof and prolonged lunches of pasta with green pesto and tomatoes... the trips to Natalia's house to chill, chat, cook - oh, and our runs along the Thames and showers in the basement of the Old Building (never thought I'd miss them). And earlier memories mix with emotions - a clear February morning on St.Paul's cathedral, my solitary strolls on Queen's Walk on Sunday nights, Oxford Street retail stress and home made muffins.
There is nothing that quite compares to all of this, nor will I ever be able to express it all. But maybe we could go there and have it all together some day?  ¶ 7:33 AM 0 Comments  

  Te quiero Tus manos son mi caricia,
mis acordes cotidianos;
te quiero porque tus manos
trabajan por la justicia.

Si te quiero es porque sos
mi amor, mi cómplice, y todo.
Y en la calle codo a codo
somos mucho más que dos.

Tus ojos son mi conjuro
contra la mala jornada;
te quiero por tu mirada
que mira y siembra futuro.

Tu boca que es tuya y mía,
Tu boca no se equivoca;
te quiero por que tu boca
sabe gritar rebeldía.

Si te quiero es porque sos
mi amor mi cómplice y todo.
Y en la calle codo a codo
somos mucho más que dos.

Y por tu rostro sincero.
Y tu paso vagabundo.
Y tu llanto por el mundo.
Porque sos pueblo te quiero.

Y porque amor no es aurora,
ni cándida moraleja,
y porque somos pareja
que sabe que no está sola.

Te quiero en mi paraíso;
es decir, que en mi país
la gente vive feliz
aunque no tenga permiso.

Si te quiero es por que sos
mi amor, mi cómplice y todo.
Y en la calle codo a codo
somos mucho más que dos.

- Mario Benedetti  ¶ 10:46 PM 1 Comments