camera obscura

In a manner of speaking

Tonight I was chatting with my dear friend about her recent study abroad experience in Madrid, Spain. I asked her to describe her experience in three words and she said: difficult, amazing and life-changing. She lived with an elderly Spanish woman who was a kind hostess who liked to make whatever she wanted for dinner, despite Posah's gluten-free dietary needs. She managed to go on a date with a madrileno and enjoyed traveling around through the countryside of Spain where she learned to embrace the drastically different cultures and languages that reside with in the land. It was in the breath-takingly beautiful Andalucia where she found herslf and was inspired to right a Spanish sonnet about the sun and the moon. It was in Segovia that she began to understand how differently she expressed her self in the three languages that she is fluent in: French, English and Spanish. In English she expresses herslf intellectually and deeply and in Spanish she finds that she expresses elemental feelings, some inexpressable in English with the lack of emmotional words the language has in comparison to Spanish. She did not quite describe her connection with French but I percieve that she may be able to express passionate feelings--with which the French have in abundatance.

It got me thinking about my personality in regards to the language I speak. SInce I am not a native Spanish speaker deep concepts seem a bit harder for me to describe. When discussing God and religion with my novio I had a hard time conveying my factual reasons for my faith and relied on my emmotions. Spanish is filled with descriptive adjectives and metaphors that the mother language lacks. And discovering this spurs my desire to learn to speak other languages so as to be able to communicate with that many more people in a ameaningful way. Because I had a good grasp of castellano in Buenos Aires, I was able to bridge the language and culture gap and relate to an amazing people.

Castellano, te amo con mis corazon entera, adelante me voy, frances.

Sometimes

Life rarely goes the way we think it ought to go. Unexpected bumps, bruises, smiles and surprises could make up a single day. Today I realized that when that happens you must embrace it. It's a chance to learn, grow and discover. If reality is denied for too long the moments can seem produced and far from true. And accepting this turbulent reality means steping out of yourself and seeing that your actions and reactions affect those around you, even when you think they are not watching.
This summer I am blessed to have two jobs and one of them being a day camp counselor. Today was my first day. My plan to wake up at 6:30 am failed miserably as I ran out the door 20 minutes later than I had planned to leave. The weekend past had been an emotional one to say the least and had left me heart exhausted. My preocupied mind prompted me to miss my exit and find my way back amidst the morning rush of autos. It was at this point that I broke. Tear after tear streamed my face as I was overwhelmed with the reality that I may be late for my first day of work and would disappoint my co-workers and the children. I called out to Him for joy. I felt it missing in my life and was not sure where it had all gone. I miraculously made it to work on time, two minutes to spare. Before walking in I said a prayer of thanks and asked again for a joy, so that I could be there for the children.
Just like life, He doesn't tend to answer in an expected way. As I walked into the room of children I slapped on a grin and prepared myself for the day ahead. Gradually my spirits lifted as the pains of the days melted and the brightness of the children's smiles and laughter healed my soul. In their happiness, frustration, insecuirity and contentment I felt for them and comforted or encouraged when I could. I had forgotten how wonderful it feels to receive a hug from a child. They are all so beautiful for their differences. For their innocence. Oh how I desire to return to my youth. Where a single day did not seem to last an eternity. Where adults were people whom I could trust. How I wish their innocence could brush upon me just as their joy did.

The Magic Gas Station

A night in L.A. started with a question. What should I wear? I was heading out to a gig by a band that I had never heard of. I didn't know the scene. Black tank, jeans and leopard print heels were the verdict. Black always seems to work. Saturday night, Echo Park was the destination. I didn't know what to expect. The freeways were pleasant enough as my bestie Ace and I filled up the drive with our stories from the year past. We arrived in a neighborhood reminiscent of the burbs of San Fran and the steep streets of Valparaiso, Chile. Chango cafe, the Magic Gas station and lack of parking were the highlights of our search for food. We settled for a pizza place that named their pizza styles after famous comedians and singers. The restaurant was packed with couples, families and old time friends chatting away in various languages. After we enjoyed our delish slices we headed to a nearby vinyl record store and browsed the selection before heading into the venue. Upon entering I noticed the intimate setting and strong air conditioning. I assumed it would be getting pretty crazy in there, still not sure what the crowd would be like, but I was open-minded and anxious to hear the opening band. Static was a unexpected combination. A very impressive female drummer with great beats, fast, driving, clean. The male and female vocal talents had interesting voices. Passionate but far from harmonious. I enjoyed the beats but soon headed outside to a grouping of slanted tables that made it awkward to sit. I couldn't imagine how someone even a little bit buzzed would be able to survive them. The next act was up soon enough and we wandered back in. Sounds reminiscent of the Doors, Hendrix and Led were being made. The bassist looked like Hyde from "That 70's Show". The lead singer was amusing with his off-color side comments and lyrics. But the real show started when King Khan took the stage. The stage was filled with an unlikely pairing of band mates. The lead singer resembled James Brown, who he was striving to emulate.

Art Song

The Romantic Era poet William Wordsworth defined poetry in quite a beautiful way, "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings," which takes its origin "from emotion recollected in tranquility."
This definition, being firmly rooted in the Romantic love of Nature, is a clear description of what lyric poetry, or art song, entails. The sights around him acted as an encouragement to describe his deep personal feelings.
The natural world around us really is so inspirational. Last night as I was walking home in Buenos Aires I passed by an awe-inspiring sight. The sun was setting, creating a pink and orange swirl in the background of a beautifully oranate chapel overlapped with a flock of birds flying upwards out of the nearby tree. These three elements fit perfectly together to create a breathtaking scene and for a second I forgot that I was amidst the tall apartment buildings, crowded avenues and loud noises of the city. For an instant all was silent and at peace. The tranquility of an art song created spontaneously. But not by accident.