creepy!

i found this rather weird looking package
outside my window this evening

i have no idea since when it has been there
i moved it to the trash can
it was heavy and felt like it was full of sand

very strange & creepy
i am a little worried
since my window goes to an alley
that people can access



funny, but i grew up reading
detective stories
sherlock holmes was one of my heroes
when i was 14
and i like the dark mystery novels
but this package thing
when it happens outside my own window
doesn't feel as glamorous
as the crimes on literature

i will check the trash can tomorrow
to see if it's still there
and well, not sure what else to do

creepy! and a bit of insomnia
it brings me indeed

3 minutes of every night tea

i am sure there are much more interesting ways
to spend 3 minutes online
but if you want to share with me
a very simple kitchen moment
please look at my 3 minutes of nothingness

just some tea
a candle
another late night
the coffee beans
& 3 minutes less of your life
3 minutes that you immerse in mine

the ancestors of bloggers

cartoon quote:
"Bloggers were invented ca. 300 AD, and were originally called "monks". Like their distant descendents, monks had shitty haircuts and never got laid."



from one of my favorite online collections of comics
"married to the sea"
check their site for more of their quirky cartoons
there's a new one daily...

this morning

this morning...
I thought I saw the fairy (Elf) of happiness
Trying to hide on my back yard

But when I got closer…
Trying to catch him
it evaporated from my hands

& i realized
it was just the aroma of clean clothes...
Tied up with a string of sunshine

Le Mystère Picasso

tonight i found on Turner Classic Movies
and as a tribute to 60 years of Cannes Film Festival
(ah! wish i was there...!)

this piece of film
the name is Le Mystère Picasso
a film from 1956
with Picasso painting on the canvas for the camera

rumors say that Picasso and
the director of the film Henri-Georges Clouzot
destroyed the pieces of art after the film was done
in sort of a ritual to make a piece of art of the film itself
yet... other rumors say that the pieces still exist
as part of private collections...

the recording is not very good, sorry!
you can at least enjoy the flamenco singing
& guitar!
& you can barely follow the steps of Picasso
painting...
although he's not my favorite painter
this piece on the bullfighter
is amazing to see how he starts
and how his mind and techniques behave
a genius indeed!
the bull how it morphs from picasso traces
to picasso's cubism eye, incredible process

hope this don't disappear soon from my youtube acc
anyhow hurry up to watch now!...
& hold your breath till the end
for a spanish whisper: "... muy bien."



& finale!



oh & is it day 59 or 58 to go? ah!

writing the unintelligent way

the movie, twosome, as dual duality dual
all day all days
music beat tap, freeway noise the back
back louder than front
complexity in numbers
we humans create
we all have to calculate

a radio station and a freeway
those are numbers anyway
the non-traceable human soul
numbers again
bodies without a backwash or a simple mathematical outline
88.3 jazz station raison d'être, the redemption
163 the freeway, taking you closer to frustration

can’t stand up from this chair
a motionless body
out of madness and hope
sky-scraping soul one minute
stumpy the next
them tint all with a color of perplexity
oomph then sulk then up and down again & again

communion of the downfall with a smile of cooperativeness
perplex of its own thing
the movie of this morning 7.30 am then
“the more you drive, the less intelligent you are”
-was it radiohead’s or repo-man?

a smile and a grrrr just because…
also while thinking of not writing felt so bad
what would i do without writing?
Even if it is this non-understandable ravage
nobody would these things or movies or nothing understand
so thankful i found the friends to at least try…

----

last night, i left my wallet
at a grocery store
at the parking lot in the shopping cart
got a phone call from the store
somebody returned it
all was intact inside
my $3 in cash
and my 70 € my mom gave me
i was a lucky woman
and a thankful one
since there is still a lot of honest people
around
i hope you find them on your walking path
thankful this little note i write

this is my kitchen any day of the week at 8.25 am,
making breakfast, i don't eat this every day,
but this raspberry sauce I made this morning!
i wanted to remember it so i record it, it is good!
just raspberries with orange juice and a bit of lime juice,
a teaspoon of sugar and heat it up,
boiling for about 5 minutes, delicious!
then i put on top of a frozen waffle
(well i heat it first)
those blueberry waffles whole grain by Kashi are really good,
and all with a good glass of cold milk, ah!



I feel kitchens are the heart of some houses
Certainly of mine
It is
I like warm places
In that I am like a cat
But I am much more friendly
That most cats so
Am more like a dog
Who likes whole grains?
& raspberry sauces

the result

just another 60 :)

Back wrenched (draft to the 1st post)

Tonight I found this interesting (for me heh heh)
Draft on word
It was actually meant to be my very 1st post on this blog!
I didn’t finished, and the 1st post came different
But here what I found tonight:

Back wrenched first involuntarily, in forethought after and since recalling how good is a good stretch, especially in the middle of the day.

Stretching the skin slightly comes an itchy, a little, the dryness of skin that comes with age, a little the sun of this city while you are outside.

Wrenched yet still holding the strength to write.
Sun glisten outside, what remains with a jump inside this heart.

After a colander, the clouds up in the sky, let filter through little squares the lightening shines .

4 of a Sunday, remembering trains and stations at 12, still a girl back then, many years ago, now 36 and San Diego, is the place. Those of the memories of the trains are far behind, as far as Guadalajara, city back in Mexico, that country just aside of this one.

The train station was particularly illuminated that night, maybe since being a Saturday night; the lights were dressed with the glittering of the traditional going out at the middle of the weekend. Funny how according to a calendar (the Roman in this case, as western civilization has selected for us), we gather when we should all united have fun, the official days of going out, socializing rules, rules & pre-sets, optimized for each & every one. Saturday don’t mind if your hair looks nice or the skin hangs all over and out, you are supposed to go, then if not, a week of wearing a crawling brain situation all around, a week, of trying to comfort yourself on the fact that all will recovered the next time.

Anyway the station looked fine, and 12 year-old are picky!, at least I was one, perfectionist, the drip way, so I knew the art deco decoration of this station was fine, it came with the same hope that the 20’s implied, the young century the best one we had in a while, the feeling of renaissance of rebirth, after the big war inundated the world, we have been very down and not very high since the 15th one that this after war

Then it finished there
I don’t understand myself the 15th nor the war references
But oh well
Many times I re-read what I tried to write
And truly, makes not much sense
But in this case
I didn’t dislike all the parts!
The strange person back in March 07, 2006
That I was, I seem to be today
& that’s somehow nice (?)
or stable of me (?)
rather conformist (?) ha!
this was supposed to be a writing exercise
this blog, and it has been anything else but that
but it's fine! it has become more of a journal
than anything, but i still can on it
well, write (insert smile) & non-sense type
las fotillos, también, now & then
& march 07, 06
Is not that long ago
And the actual 1st post came like this
I didn’t re-read it myself
But I will, I had befor
One day I’ll re-read it again
I think…
But not tonight

http://bereweber.blogspot.com/2006_03_07_archive.html

61 :)

in 63 days

i have this lovely project
& the time period set for completion
is 63 days
& with a smile
i start today the countdown
just another 62 days...

& i remember tonight one of my favorite damien rice songs
cannonball
beautiful lyrics for a beautiful song
(like me, of dreams not yet lived
and of life about to happen...)



there’s still a little bit of your taste in my mouth
there’s still a little bit of you laced with my doubt
it’s still a little hard to say what's going on

there’s still a little bit of your ghost your weakness
there’s still a little bit of your face i haven't kissed
you step a little closer each day
and I can´t see what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love, it taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball

there’s still a little bit of your song in my ear
there’s still a little bit of your words i long to hear
you step a little closer to me
so close that I can´t see what´s going on

stones taught me to fly
love, it taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannon..
stones taught me to fly
and love taught me to cry
so come on courage
teach me to be shy
cause it's not hard to fall
and i don't wanna scare her
it's not hard to fall
and i don't wanna lose
it's not hard to grow
when you know that you just don't know

shampoo de flowers