I had abandoned this blog mainly because I had to dedicate my writing to other things. But now I'm back! For the moment, I am going to use this to revamp the place, do some spring cleaning and try to get back on track.
It seems strange for a writer that I haven't dedicated so much time to this blog. Mainly because I have learned the in's and out's behind it, it sort of " put me off" of writing.
A lot has happened in the past few months. The best way I can do this is post some of my letters up here, along with other pictures. It might seem scattered, as there is a lot to tell.
I am uncertain whether the title of this blog is now seemingly appropiate. For now it suffices. Since I have met the real gypsies, and seen their spirit, I don't want to place real significance on the title.
I do want to say, the reason for this. I spent all of my life basically going from place to place never really fitting in anywhere, but always searching to find a home. The only true place I found made sense was as a Bahai.
I am slowly finding my way. I realize now that home has nothing to do with where you are but w hat you make of it while you are there. It's about surrounding yourself with positivity and serving others instead of becoming focused on yourself.
I can't begin to say how much i have learnt in these past months but the experience has been immensely valuable.
martes, 13 de enero de 2009
lunes, 26 de mayo de 2008
Xion Yi y el arbol de plata
Since I am leaving for London I have to put some of my writing somewhere and I figure this is the best place for it. Here is a fable I wrote , all rights reserved in spanish called " Xion Yi y el Arbol de plata"
Habia una vez un raton legendario que era peluda con un cuerno en la frente, ojos color violeta que vivia con su padre el pastor de una pradera. Realmente el raton era un animal extrano pero sumamente curioso y amigable.
Junto con su padre cuidadabn el lugar de las montanas. Era un lugar comun y corriente excepto por un arbol grande de plata que cubria la pradera. Todos los dias Xion Yi el raton y su padre iban donde el arbol y su padre le hablaba al arbol : " Buenos dias , veo que necesitas agua, no te preocupes que ya pronto llega la lluvia."
El raton no podia entender como es que su padre pudiera hablarale algo que no podia responderle. Pero habia muchas cosas que no podia entender de su apdre.
" Escucha el sonido de las hojas y podras entenderle hijo mio...no es tan dificil". Le dijo un dia su padre al pequeno.
El raton era sonador, y veia mas alla de su pradera a una expansion de montanas que estaban abiertas de nubes , su corazno ansiaba de curiosidad para concerlo
Sin embargo, su padre le dijo : " No vale la pena ir para alla, pequeno. Alli solo encontraras tristeza". Un dia, su padre tuvo que partir al Este aunque no daba la razon de su partida.
Su padre al partir le dijos estas palabras : " Hijo, no se te vaya olvidar hablar con el arbol aunque yo no este, es imprescindible que lo hagas"
Pero el Raton Xion Yi estaba viendo al horizonte donde quedaba las montanas y no le escuchaba. Justo cuando partio, el Raton quiso salir para ver las montanas y se fue sin decirle nada al arbol.
El ratonicto partio y lo primero que se dio cuenta es que al salir de la pradera hacia mucho frio. Cuando camino llego hacia la montana. Le tomo dias para llegar y cuando se tardo mucho penso que debia cruzar al horizonte, pero estaba atrapado.
Despues de muchas pruebas llego a la cima, solo para encontrar que no habia nada arriba mas que un vacio abismal y esqueletos de arboles muertos.
" Fue en vano mi viaje" Suspiro. Cuando bajo de la montana estaba muy cansado y desanimado y se sintio que todos sus frutos fueron en vano.
Cuando por fin llego a su prader estaba sumamente feliz de encotrar su hogar pero se dio cuenta que todo era un desierto y el bello arbol de plata habia muerto. " Ay hijo" Dijo su padre, saliendo de las sombras " Te deje para probar tu valentia y lealtad pero me haz defruadado. No cuidaste al arbol y ahora ha muerto porque no habia nadie que le hablara y cuando moria el arbol tambien moria la pradera."
El ratonse sintio tan triste que se puso a llorar, lloro tanto que no comio por tres dias y parecian mares que brotaban de sus ojos. Un dia un gota de sangre salio de sus ojos violetas y cayo en la tierra. Su sorpresa fue que en su lugar empezo a crecer una pequena planta de plata.
" Cuando te importa a tu alrededor y te sacrificas, esto trae frutos " Dijo su padre. AUnque la pradera nunca retomo su esplendor sin embargo crecio y florecio. Y Xion Yi nunca dejo de hablarle a su arbol de plata
Habia una vez un raton legendario que era peluda con un cuerno en la frente, ojos color violeta que vivia con su padre el pastor de una pradera. Realmente el raton era un animal extrano pero sumamente curioso y amigable.
Junto con su padre cuidadabn el lugar de las montanas. Era un lugar comun y corriente excepto por un arbol grande de plata que cubria la pradera. Todos los dias Xion Yi el raton y su padre iban donde el arbol y su padre le hablaba al arbol : " Buenos dias , veo que necesitas agua, no te preocupes que ya pronto llega la lluvia."
El raton no podia entender como es que su padre pudiera hablarale algo que no podia responderle. Pero habia muchas cosas que no podia entender de su apdre.
" Escucha el sonido de las hojas y podras entenderle hijo mio...no es tan dificil". Le dijo un dia su padre al pequeno.
El raton era sonador, y veia mas alla de su pradera a una expansion de montanas que estaban abiertas de nubes , su corazno ansiaba de curiosidad para concerlo
Sin embargo, su padre le dijo : " No vale la pena ir para alla, pequeno. Alli solo encontraras tristeza". Un dia, su padre tuvo que partir al Este aunque no daba la razon de su partida.
Su padre al partir le dijos estas palabras : " Hijo, no se te vaya olvidar hablar con el arbol aunque yo no este, es imprescindible que lo hagas"
Pero el Raton Xion Yi estaba viendo al horizonte donde quedaba las montanas y no le escuchaba. Justo cuando partio, el Raton quiso salir para ver las montanas y se fue sin decirle nada al arbol.
El ratonicto partio y lo primero que se dio cuenta es que al salir de la pradera hacia mucho frio. Cuando camino llego hacia la montana. Le tomo dias para llegar y cuando se tardo mucho penso que debia cruzar al horizonte, pero estaba atrapado.
Despues de muchas pruebas llego a la cima, solo para encontrar que no habia nada arriba mas que un vacio abismal y esqueletos de arboles muertos.
" Fue en vano mi viaje" Suspiro. Cuando bajo de la montana estaba muy cansado y desanimado y se sintio que todos sus frutos fueron en vano.
Cuando por fin llego a su prader estaba sumamente feliz de encotrar su hogar pero se dio cuenta que todo era un desierto y el bello arbol de plata habia muerto. " Ay hijo" Dijo su padre, saliendo de las sombras " Te deje para probar tu valentia y lealtad pero me haz defruadado. No cuidaste al arbol y ahora ha muerto porque no habia nadie que le hablara y cuando moria el arbol tambien moria la pradera."
El ratonse sintio tan triste que se puso a llorar, lloro tanto que no comio por tres dias y parecian mares que brotaban de sus ojos. Un dia un gota de sangre salio de sus ojos violetas y cayo en la tierra. Su sorpresa fue que en su lugar empezo a crecer una pequena planta de plata.
" Cuando te importa a tu alrededor y te sacrificas, esto trae frutos " Dijo su padre. AUnque la pradera nunca retomo su esplendor sin embargo crecio y florecio. Y Xion Yi nunca dejo de hablarle a su arbol de plata
jueves, 1 de mayo de 2008
Pain and nostalgia as time killers
I have thought a lot about the theme of time. Time is always something that escapes us, that we can waste easily if we are not careful . We waste time thinking about things we cannot change, and neglect the things that we do.
We waste time on people who don't think of us at all. We drown ourselves in nostalgia, in creating threads from the past, we waste time watching too much television. We waste time, just by passing the time for our boredom.
And being lazy, we waste a lot of time
I have always been a lazy person, my best friend told me yesterday " you ooze out laziness, the way you walk, the way you talk, it's like you are lazy to do anything". I never thought of my laziness as anything but a minor impediment in my life, but now I see how much of a detriment it has been...I take the easy way out, the one that requires the least effort, and in so doing I complicate my life way too much.
But the question is why am I lazy? What causes me to be lazy? I have no idea.
My am I reflective lately.
When we go through changes and severe pain, we tend to reassess our lives and our priorities. We try to see what and how things went awry. Picking up the pieces makes us who we are , and if we had it easy in our lives it just wouldn't make sense.
So time is always good when we learn...and when
We waste time on people who don't think of us at all. We drown ourselves in nostalgia, in creating threads from the past, we waste time watching too much television. We waste time, just by passing the time for our boredom.
And being lazy, we waste a lot of time
I have always been a lazy person, my best friend told me yesterday " you ooze out laziness, the way you walk, the way you talk, it's like you are lazy to do anything". I never thought of my laziness as anything but a minor impediment in my life, but now I see how much of a detriment it has been...I take the easy way out, the one that requires the least effort, and in so doing I complicate my life way too much.
But the question is why am I lazy? What causes me to be lazy? I have no idea.
My am I reflective lately.
When we go through changes and severe pain, we tend to reassess our lives and our priorities. We try to see what and how things went awry. Picking up the pieces makes us who we are , and if we had it easy in our lives it just wouldn't make sense.
So time is always good when we learn...and when
martes, 15 de abril de 2008
Failing to try
I have always become paralyzed with fear. It covers my whole being. It's sort of strange how that happens, I become so afraid of what is going to happen that i cease to become my true self. I fear failure , of not being good enough.
So I give up easily, because it is easier than trying.
Damn I have to get over it before it ruins my whole life...
So I give up easily, because it is easier than trying.
Damn I have to get over it before it ruins my whole life...
Etiquetas:
failure,
paralysis,
psychology,
trying
viernes, 7 de marzo de 2008
Being a Bahai and the fast.
Well fasting is here and boy, is it difficult. The important and key factors to know about when referring to fasting is the fact that it is not the physical part of fasting that matters but rather the spiritual element of the fast which is of the upmost importance.
We have to believe that the fast is about change, and growth and having the ability to learn from our mistakes.
The question is....are we always able to do so the best way we know how? Try, and try again till we get it right...begin again and become reborn that is what the fast is really about.
Well fasting is here and boy, is it difficult. The important and key factors to know about when referring to fasting is the fact that it is not the physical part of fasting that matters but rather the spiritual element of the fast which is of the upmost importance.
We have to believe that the fast is about change, and growth and having the ability to learn from our mistakes.
The question is....are we always able to do so the best way we know how? Try, and try again till we get it right...begin again and become reborn that is what the fast is really about.
jueves, 6 de marzo de 2008
tech savvy and new york times article
No matter where you are, you can always become computer savvy. Technology offers a surefire way to have access to information that perhaps you did not even realize existed. Kind of reminds me of that Disney World ride where everyone saw the future, which was talking to someone via videophone, now that's a plain reality.
Well it goes further , I was browsing the net and I came across an article about Cuba and the youth using the internet to " rebel " against the government.
Please bear in mind I do not take part in politics, but it just brings to mind how, even if you try to control and monitor something, people will find a way. Like a flower in concrete sidwalks.
check this article from the new york times which explains it further :
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/03/06/world/americas/06cuba.html?ex=1362546000&en=eff6155b2c2d280d&ei=5124&partner=permalink&exprod=permalink
miƩrcoles, 5 de marzo de 2008
Morphing into crazy cat lady
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQrz9eBJFTt9RAprr1oQx0l6PWq9fALEo09CkKJwHfZPSDLaGIlu89CcbFTBjxFEGExKeLwkHYyW5v0q-Z8AGi3c0uQrlFUoZN-kzlzMkEPGDgEn0aBEA2Wil-2TbdwdoZ-175uv-QDmQ/s400/180px-Crazy_Cat_Lady.png)
the image : crazy cat lady, funky smell, slightly askew hair , afghans and the whole lot.
Crazy cat lady.
the image , is actually a real one. i know a woman, we shall call her Marina Shaker...anyways, she came here when she was youngish, stayed here in El Salvador for most of her life and had this home in the middle of the countryside.
As time went on, we saw less and less of her , and people said the amount of cats she got was astounding. Reallly astounding. LIterally, she has sixty cats and counting.
As a former friend of mine said i was " Marina Shaker Jr." because I have two cats, and talk to them ( ok so yes it might seem strange if you are not a pet owner...)
I did not INTEND to have two cats, my cat is a total slut and we thought she was sterile, and boom she got pregnant after a year of not being pregnant
and i gave away most of the cats but one i just couldnt get rid of. So she stayed. Dude, if you saw her pathetic face you would feel sorry for her too.
And then my cat got pregnant and i have three more kittens, greeeat. So now I am becoming crazy cat lady! HELP!
Ok, ok so what is so scary about being crazy cat lady? Well, pretty much the idea of talking to your cats and being batty. But seriously why cats? Why isn't crazy dog lady scary? Or better yet crazy dog man? why is a woman alone considered a really bad thing? Like the thought of being alone , clutching a tattered photograph of a man long gone drives a woman insane?
Is it the lack fo sex?
Dude it must come from the idea of the woman in the attic, the Bertha Mason, the lunatic woman, the Miss Havisham coming out to play. ( Yes those of Victorian novels) those repressed emotions are now cut loose, and the woman, in all her scariness is unleashed. She is the vampiress/seductress gone mad, the she devil, the hag...
But perhaps, she is like the Wife of Bath that given the right amount of lovin' she becomes smoking hot?
Anyways, this still doesn't solve my dilemma of giving away my three cats.
Any takers?
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