mujeres que las apoyan, uno a otra.
the first goodbye we had wasn’t so bad. a tear fell from your eyes but not from mine. i said it was because i had no doubts. there was no way two people could instantly find love so strong and it would die in a couple of short months. let’s not make this more difficult, i said, as i helped him carry his bags to the street for a taxi to the bus station. te amo y nos vemos pronto
the second goodbye was like nothing I had ever experienced. It was like dying. The first goodbye I had no idea of the weight that it would carry. I had nothing to prepare me for what it would be like to fall in love and then be seperated. the second goodbye I knew all too well. the last 24 hours were full of wordless embraces. I had woken him in the middle of the night crying. no quiero que nos seperamos never had time felt more like a weapon, like a death sentence. Each hour that passed just meant less time. I was in a magical haze and trying to ignore the fact that it would end.
the second goodbye at the bus station I could not hold it in. The tears filled up my throat and I couldn’t breath, as if I was being choked. any second now you are going to have to let go of him, you are going to turn and get on the bus and who knows when you’ll see each other again Choking. te amo he said, and I couldn’t get a single word out of my mouth te amo again and I managed to say it again, and then slowly walked towards the bus.
like when my cat was sick and the vet told me he’d have to be put down, do you want to say goodbye? she had asked. No, what’s the point, I replied between choking sobs.
When I got on the bus I cried for a moment, and then I stopped. Everything was the same as it was before, I was me in my life. And that wasn’t all so bad. I had been living as me solo in the world 31 years before I met him, and I could go back to doing that just find. Everything was the same as it was before- it’s just that now there is someone out there who wants to share their life with me.
esperame corinna, te quiero con todo mi alma…
there is a great emptiness in missing someone this way, a weight I had never imagined could exist. But on the flip side I found a joy with someone I never knew could exist. There are no guarentees in life, no magic promise that we will ever be together again, but that’s just something that I need to learn to deal with. Thank you universe for showing me this person and giving me this great teaching moment. Now as I write the pit in my stomach forms. If I don’t write it it’s just somewhere in the background, and when I write it my body acknowledges the loss that I feel- the hole that wants to be filled. I never believed that someone could love me so much or that I could love someone so much, in a way that makes me better. I guess the rest is out of my hands.
sometimes i take a roll of diana mini photos with color slide film speed 64 and many double exposures and it TURNS OUT AMAZING. and sometimes it’s shit. like life, i guess.
for muertos people in the pueblos basically party all night. my friend wendy was saying that everyone was acting posessed. they wear strange costumes and speak in weird voices as if they are vessels for beings who have passed. we stayed up until the sun came up in this small village and the people partying on. it was clear out as we walked down the hill and got into a pick up truck of hip young kids from d.f. who said they met one of my friends at a party. we went out to breakfast and i drank too much coffee, so of course i did not sleep until midnight the next night. haunting.
finally editing my dia de los muertos fotos. i have been avoiding it because I didn’t get that many good ones, and it’s hard when you use film toy cameras and a not very good digital point and shoot and you are photographing people in costumes dancing with candles in the middle of the night. anyways, looking at them causes me to reflect on that time.
so much to reflect on really, and yet living in the moment is so important… oh the balance…
in my printmaking class we are all making a 35 x 40 cm print on wood of a skull and exchanging them for day of the dead next week. i am finished; not so bad for only having done a couple prints in my life, and this is the first one on wood!
en mi clase de grabado estamos haciendo una impresion 35 por 40 en madera de una calavera y los vamos a intercambiar para dia de los muertos en la proxima semana. ya acabe y no es tan malo en cuenta de solo he hecho algunos en mi vida, y eso es mi primera en madera.
125 black and white film on a diana mini , double exposures.. never again! the only two decent fotos I got out of a whole roll. Sadness. Learning experiences..
i have heard this metaphor used a few times recently, I think maybe it’s a common expression in Mexico. We set a horizon- a measurement of success- whether it be for love or money or work or whatever - and we walk towards that horizon. But we never get there, because as we are walking our horizon changes- it moves further ahead, and thus we never reach it.
I think about this because it is so true, at least for me. I wonder how much of it is healthy. We should, as long as we are alive, strive to go further, to keep pushing ourselves, but when do we get to the point where we can reflect on and celebrate how far we have come?