a sight to behold

Oh baby! Devendra Banhart live at the Independent in SF on April 14th. I was there and it was incredible!

Rare Occasions

A new photograph from my new batch of diana pics. Taken from the rooftops of Pittsburgh, during sunset. Part of a recent and much needed vacation. Although this is not the most representative picture and probably not the best of the roll either, it does stand out.
When on vacation, there's often this anticipation and rush of doing everything and trying to get everywhere and see everyone.
The clock is ticking, every day is somewhat of a countdown. Let's go!! What's next? C'mon!
No time to lose.
While I really enjoy that kind of energy and push, this was the one afternoon that was different, where nothing but that moment mattered. There wasn't a time limit, a deadline, no sense of urgency for anything.
That sea of calm also washed away other things, if only for just for a little bit, for a tiny moment in time. Frustrations, troubles, anxieties, disappointments, demons...all the baggage and day to day bullshit where gone.
I was a shiny new rock, swept clean by the sea. All the moss on my back was taken away.
It's hard to put in words... but there was this feeling of contentment and joy. Of feeling like I was exactly in the place I was supposed to be. Of being grateful for the rocky road that had taken me to where I was.
It's a checkpoint. A very specific checkpoint. What lies beyond this place doesn't matter because there's this sense that it's all going to work out.
A profound, yet fleeting feeling...
I was hoping to be a bit more eloquent to describe what this is like. Maybe next go around.

All About Nothing

There are days when you wake up and it's beautiful outside and the sun is shining. You're bursting with ambition and excited to seize the myriad of possibilities that lay awaiting for you throughout the day.
Suddenly i'ts 10:03pm and you realize you haven't left the house. So much went on outside in the world around you and you were completely absent from all of it.
Fuck yeah!
Today was a wonderful day spent in my living with my roommates, eating, drinking and smoking. The matinee began with Pineapple Express with an intermission before continuing on to You Me and Everyone We Know.
What a grand day of doing absolutely nothing!
As the day comes to a possible close (the night is still young!) I have decided to be productive and make at least one contribution for my existence today and give something back.
Some friends have introduced me to these fine ladies and nothing has been quite the same.

riding down the coast

Last weekend I went for a ride...on a harley. I've ridden around on bikes before, years ago, but I don't recall ever riding on a harley. Needless to say it was one of the funnest days ever. We sped down the coast, taking the scenic route past Half Moon Bay and then to this biker bar/restaurant in La Honda, called Alice's.
After an hour ride a hearty veggie burger and beer was definitely in order.
Racing through the woods, cold wind against us, I remember the faster we went the more exhilirating it was. Of course I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to die this way. For the bike to spin out of control and us to crash and hurl through the air at 80 miles per hour. How that would feel. What it would be like to race so fast towards death. I closed my eyes and imagined it as we sped along the concrete road.
Funny thing is this whole scenario wasn't frightening, I wanted to see just how fast we could go before it felt like we were flying through the air...
We did obviously made it safe and sound back to SF and I was left with a numb bum, feeling hardcore and looking forward for the next ride.

Alone

So Freakin' Lost

After over 6 months the wait is finally over. Lost begins it's 5th season. For me it's one of the most genius and addictive shows ever...can't wait for tonight!

A Day of Stolen Moments

When we met that hot January afternoon we were just strangers. Neither of us expected that by the next time the sun would rise we would know each other in so many ways. That the walls we built so furiously with such heavy bricks would come down so silently. If only for that time.

After standing on the edge for too long I decided to dive into the deep blue ocean of your eyes and trail through the golden field of bristles on your face. What a bold thing to do!

Once we found each other we held on. We held on tightly, because we knew we would have to let go before we became attached. But for that moment we would melt into one another. The boundaries in our landscapes would disappear and we would not know where one started and the other began.

Out in the world we wandered the same streets and yet everything seemed new and shiny as your hand slipped into mine.

Hidden in a tiny pub drinking sangria we quenched the thirst for each other as we shared our stories. No stone remained unturned. There was so much to discover!

Warmed by the wine and our new proximity we walked underneath the stars of a cool, clear night. Admiring the city from the top of the park made it seem so distant. It was the city that brought us together, yet it was also a different world that did not belong to ours that night.

Enough time outside.

Now was time to go in and sink into a sea of sheets and pillows. We swam naked, quickly submerging and only coming up for air in short gasps.

After such an adventurous day we soon fell asleep. The morning would come and would only serve to say goodbye and part ways.

It was a new day, warmer than others, sadder than others. We separated our bodies just was we had brought them together, quietly and effortlessly. There was no need for fanfare.

We were two open books, pages skimmed, some chapters read. Perhaps we would pick each other up again some day. Maybe not. This didn't matter.

That day we were given to each others as presents. And it felt to so good to be unwrapped.

Romance by Miranda July

"I made orange juice from concentrate and showed her the trick of squeezing the juice of one real orange into it. It removes the taste of being frozen. She marveled at this, and I laughed and said, Life is easy. What I meant was, Life is easy with you here, and when you leave, it will be hard again. The day felt like a birthday, our first, and we ourselves were the gifts, to be opened again and again.
...we pressed our legs against each other's legs, and these, too, were radically different sizes, and our curiosity was blossoming like a rose, we wanted to know, we really wanted to know, all the unknowable things about each other and how we were the same and how we were different, if we even were, maybe nobody is. We wanted to strike lightning in dark waters, to see, if only for a second, the entire world that lives down there, the ten millions species in amazing colors and patterns; show us life, now. We pressed our stomachs and lips together, and these too, were different sizes, but my lips were roughly the same size as her ear, and her arm, when wrapped around my waist, felt long and, more important, was warm.
We grew still and stared at each other. It seemed incredibly dangerous to look into each other's eyes, but we were doing it. For how long can you behold another person? Before you have to think of yourself again, like dipping the brush back in for more ink. For a long time; you didn't need to get more ink, there was no reason to get anything else, because she was as good as me, she lived on earth like me, suffered as I did. It was she who looked away and pulled the sheet to her chin."

One of the standout paragraphs from Miranda July's collection of short stories No One Belongs Here More Than You. I just finished the book and these past days it's fit perfectly into my melancholy mood.

Early one morning

She looked up at the cracks on the wall. It was a mirror. Her reflection was sometimes hard to see. So many wrinkles, so many spots replaced a once clear, smooth, dark skin. All these creases in her body and face represented a story. The lines around her mouth were heartbreak. The bags under her brown eyes were regret and loss. The deep crevices on her forehead were worry.
She didn't care for any of them. Her jet black hair continued to thin, the skin on her hands continued to reveal more veins and arteries. Walking over four blocks she would be out of breathe.

As she was drying herself after a long shower she paused in between her legs. That part of her body had been dormant for so long. Delicately tracing the folds of her skin with the yolk of her fingers she tried to remember...remember
the last time she had been touched...
the last time she had been fucked...
the last time she had been loved....
She had ceased being a sexual being long before her body had. Only ashes remain where the flames of any passion could ignite. So be it.

Several years ago with every puff of her Malboro Lights she fantasized about how wonderful it would be to go to sleep and never wake up. She was just fed up. Didn't care for anything or anyone.

Sometime between then and now something shifted. Despite feeling tired most of the time she was able to find a reason to keep going. After her divorce she never remarried and never had children. A retired teacher, she had lost contact with most of her students. Just like her nieces and nephews they had all moved away and created new lives far away from her classroom. She was but a vague memory that would only surface when turning the pages of old pictures and yearbooks.

Despite all this she had begun to take pleasure in simple things. The crisp air as she stepped out of the house in the morning. The bitter taste of her instant coffee. The giggles of her youngest niece when she would visit.
She was excited again.
Being at an elderly age gave her power she wouldn’t have otherwise. No one could force her to do anything. She had lived long enough that she could speak her mind and not care about others opinions. She also had gained the power of invisibility. At family gatherings she could just sit back, amused and entertain herself watching the dramas of a younger generation without being noticed. At that age she just didn’t count for certain things. Being alone, she could do and go as she pleased. It was comforting. She had stopped trying and she was at peace.

Excited about starting her day and making herself breakfast she hastily finished getting dressed and opened her blinds. It would be a routine day, nevertheless a good one. She had the crossword puzzle to finish!

As she turned to leave the Earth suddenly spun off it’s axis and sent her stumbling forward. Caught by surprise she tried to regain her balance and gripped the bed frame, but with the loss of balance came loss of strength. The sun disappeared. Everything became dark before she hit the ground. Laying unconscious on her bedroom floor, she would never stand back up.

So I dedicate this story to one of my aunts in Chile. She was one of the aunts that raised me during my teen years there. Over a month ago I was informed she suffered a cerebral hemorrhage. One morning she just fell to the floor in her room. When she was found hours later she was lying in a puddle of her own piss and shit as the hemorrhage caused her to lose control of her bodily functions.
She stayed in the hospital for a month, drifting in and out of consciousness. Although she is better she will never quite recover. She can barely mouth words, has lost most motor skils and can't do anything by herself, needing 24hr. supervision Other age related problems make her situation worse.
We were never really that close. She was a lonely woman who didn't know how to love without smothering and would end up driving you away.
As it happens commonly with young adults and their parents I didn't really appreciate her until I moved away to college and wasn't living with her anymore. Our relationship improved greatly over the years despite never becoming extremely close.
The last time we spent together was when I visited in February. She took me to lunch and asked me if had met any nice girls, if I planned on getting married or have children soon(gay is synonym to pervert in her dictionary. Although this is something that might have changed in recent years, my sexuality was never discussed). This conversation amused me.
I hope I don't see her again. If I do this means it will be years from now after enduring years in a practically vegetative state. Everyone around her will grow old and weary feeding her, bathing her, wiping her. That's no way to live. Certainly not for her. So I hope that if she doesn't improve drastically that I will one day get the phone call that she passed away.
I won't be suprised because in a sense she died that morning on her bedroom floor and as hard as it might be there comes a time when there is no choice but to let go.

random music rant

I went on some lame date a while ago and I could tell it wasn't going to go anywhere when I asked him what kind of music he was into. He replied by shrugging and stating that he wasn't really into music. He didn't listen to the radio, had very few cd's and could really just care less. No song or musician had ever given him goosebumps and he didn't like live shows.
I was unable to process that information and quickly lost interest. To me a life without music is a listless one.
Melancholy melodies usually suit my mood the most.
I was a classical piano player for 6 years. For a long time there was nothing like feeling the ivory keys under my fingers or the rush that came from playing at concert halls and colleges with my fellow piano mates.
Eventually that ended up taking a sour turn when my dad pushed me so much with it that he transformed it into a chore and I lost all pleasure in playing.
My foray into pop music happened in grade school, I remember really wanting the Ace of Base cassette, The Sign. I traded one of my classmates her Ace of Base cassette for my cassette of this spanish artist Christina y los Subterraneos. The first cd I ever bought was a Bon Jovi cd. I have a cousin who is to this day in love with Bon Jovi and we used to hang out alot so I guess it just caught on.
In Chile you couldn't get really good music in the '90s. It was all mainstream crap and if you were to ever stumble on some indie darling or some more obscure artist it would be a wild goose chase to try to find anything from them.
Now in my late 20's I'd like to think I have a pretty decent taste in music. And I try to go to live shows as much as I can.
anyway...these are 2 of my favorite performances/covers from 2 of my all time favorite artists that I found on youtube.
I want to do mushrooms with Devendra and a dance routine with Feist.

Nut Job

There are days when I wake up and I'm suddenly aware you're not there. It's the first thing I notice. Sometimes I'm walking down the street and I realize something's missing. There's a dull ache where you used to be. I get this dull ache often, sometimes it freaks me out. I think it might be something more. I feel around and there's nothing there, no invasion of any kind.
Is it a phantom pain?
People who get their limbs chopped off experience ghost pains where their extremities used to be.
The funny thing is, I don't necessarily miss you. You were just always there, like the nails on my fingers, the scar on my hand, the tiny mole under my lip. You enjoyed attention every now and again... being tugged...being kissed...being licked.

It all happened so fucking fast. I found out the news, you were sick, you hadn't been yourself in a while and I hadn't noticed. The tumor spread and destroyed you. I lost you without even realizing it.
Next step:
Surgery. A radical inguinal orchiectomy. WTF!
That should take care of everything. If shit has spread, well, one thing at a time.

I went to visit a friend at a bar and after several soothing whiskey gingers I told him my plight. I asked him if he had been with guys who had lost you. He said yes. Was this weird? No. It's totally fine. No big deal.
That night I promised myself all the things I wouldn't do if I could come out of it ok. I wouldn't do any more crazy drugs, no more white powder, no more multicolored pills, nothing ever again (I rolled last friday...woops!). Just let it be ok. I could grapple with the fact that I was going to lose you. There was no way out, really. But please, please, I didn't want to lose my hair. If I had, I would have flipped the fuck out.

I should've stayed in that bar for one more drink.

Days later, let the procedure begin. Scalpel. Yes. I'm making the incision. Let me reach in and scoop it out. Feeling around. There it is. Let's take it out. Got it! Now let's sow him up.

I woke up and you were gone. It seemed like it had all been a bad dream. Don't worry, we got it in time. You won't need any further treatment. Just routine checkups. The cancer is gone.
What a relief! No chemo!
I would have to have a brief recovery period but I could soon put it all behind me. Get up and brush myself off. Wait for the scar to heal. Just another battle wound. So happy to be alive.

Over a year later...

I rarely ever think about you. But it turns out I do. I think about you when I notice it's easier to cross my legs. I think about you when I undress. When I'm in the shower...I have to make sure your partner is ok (God, I'm so paranoid now of every little pain or weird sensation down there!). I don't really do trimming in that area because it will just make it more obvious you're no longer there and it would make me miss you.
You know, I really wish I would've taken some pictures. Pictures from before. Hot ones. In commemoration of you. I think it might have helped me deal with your loss.
Too late.
This is the only picture I have after you were taken away. I think it's a week after.
I had trouble walking for a while.
I am left with just a scar.

office hours

I was looking through my pictures today and I came upon this old picture from my trip to Puerto Rico 3 years ago. I went with 2 of my best friends in the summer and rather than spending time on the main island, we frolicked on the empty beaches of a nearby smaller island, called Culebra. A small bungalow by the water became our home during our time there. If we ever needed anything we just had to contact the person who ran the place.
That could be a little difficult given their rather loose schedule. Nevertheless these are the office hours most people who run a business could only dream of.