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“After all, the best part of a holiday is perhaps not so much to be resting yourself,

as to see all the other fellows busy working.”

Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows

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The cost of opportunity…

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“I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn’t quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn’t make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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“Remind me that the most fertile lands were built by the fires of volcanoes.”

Andrea Gibson, The Madness Vase

Cotopaxi, Quito, Ecuador. SOOC

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Compact car…

seat 600 relieve

“I’m not a big car guy. I like compact cars.”
Jarod Kintz

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Buenos Aires

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Recorro esta ciudad que no me reconoce.
Ni esquinas, ni portales;
las calles ni los bares, saben de mí.
No me ha vivido y tengo esa sensación  etérea
 de esar fuera de ritmo.
Sin embargo la observo curiosa,
libre del peso de sus pequeñas historias,
sin obligaciones.
Miro a la gente, ausente de ella.
Intento imaginar sus afanes y sólo consigo
concentrarme en los míos.
De repente soy una transparencia, me siento libre,
desasida del tiempo y de mi prisa.
En el parque he visto un banco escondido,
donde seguro, me habría dejado besar al salir de clase
porque allí estaban ellos, también ajenos y transparentes,
dejando volar las mariposas de sus adentros.
Mercedes Angulo Infante, “Buenos Aires”.
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El Patio

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“Creo que todos tenemos un poco de esa bella locura que nos mantiene andando cuando todo alrededor es tan insanamente cuerdo.”
Julio Cortázar

(“I think we all have a little bit of that beautiful madness that keeps us walking when everything around us is so insanely sane”)

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“We never live; we are always in the expectation of living.”

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