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Writing

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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 us. That streng
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Until

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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. 
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Inspiration

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 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. 
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High on a Mountain

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 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.
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Graduation - Master's in Human Nutrition

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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. 
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Twin Flames

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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
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To Someone

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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.
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