Before I forget, let me write down what I’ve been up to lately. Precisely today starts a new editorial project of medium term: a second biographical book. Editing is becoming easier and easier (routine, routine!). As a proof of that, I added the Heart Institute magazine to it and I’m still having some manoeuvring space for futility, just as I like.
On the contrary, things at home are a bit complicated since handyman Albert got seriously sick. It’s winter now and I’m living as if it was summer. Is it a question of time or mood keeping me from changing my wardrobe into something resembling winter? I suppose this is not a bad thing. Maybe I decided to find ways of ignoring the winter season at all. We keep going to the beach and if by chance the day is too somber to be ignored I plan something else making me forget it.
Last weekend we started our “ignoring winter” program with Macaneta. We had been there not long ago and on the occasion we planned to return for a champagne picnic. The champagne was lukewarm and the water ice cold. Nevertheless, it was a sunny, happy day. I got minor sunburn, the usual pictures and new bracelets: most are made of seeds and this one is painted shells. Beach shopping is fun and unexpected. We never know what they convince us to buy!
Two days ago, jazz coming from the street invaded my house. I am not that into jazz, still I recognize its insinuation qualities. The first lines of a poem happened. The rest was a slow process… Still I insisted, especially when I learned that the invasion happened on the eve of a special day for music. In short, besides editing, housewifing and dribbling winter, I’ve been writing poems too.
Who planted saxophone notes
In the long, chill grey afternoon?
Who planted them in my room?
Who planted clefs of joy and pain
In the sacred recess of my thighs?
Who planted a drum in my heart?
Who planted forbidden harmonies
Sounds of guitars bursting inside?
Mid afternoon in my beloved’s arms
And I am the happiest lover alive!