Ai Menina by Lia Sophia

I was meditating on love for Shane on the back porch and suddenly those thoughts slipped away and underneath revealed me partying at the gas station, fresh off the bus, those first moments celebrating Carnival in Olinda. I saw us standing there in our festive get-ups, a strange memory to arise as Shane and Brazil are only connected in my eternal love for both.

“Ai Menina, vem!”

That white powder thrown in the air twirling and spinning around, dust in the wind, we laugh and chase like kids, revenge is the sweetness of flour bombs in the tropical sun, those mysterious liquids in innertubes, we drink whatever they give us and follow suit,

“Pra roda vem!”

The gente flow to the city center, a crowd of party people reminds me of Homecoming//Halloween weekend in Madison, the guy on the corner finishing the beer bong, he passes it to me, “AMERICAN!”, the others piss in the street of shade, curly cue passes me the can and tells me to breathe, “LOLO!”, the trees start to shake and vibrate, no more of whatever that was,

“Ai Menina!”

O grupo mantles above the city, drunk in the summer sun, our legs melt down the side of the cement wall they dangle from, sporadic memory recall, suddenly I am dancing at a side stage, “I’m from Fortaleza! You will come stay with me in my house!”, “Okkaaayy!”, food appears at some point and I am still dancing,

“Todo mundo balança no teu bailado…”

The sun sets, dazed and confused, the others pass by on a truck bed, I jump and ride along, the breeze passes through our follicles and we are all laughing, we get to the bus, the only seat is the plastic cover of the internal motor, I sprawl across it, five brasileiros take notice, singing and dancing, the whole crowd is still merry, moving in for the kill, his lips graze mine, the driver flashes the lights overhead and the whole bus erupts,

“AIIII MEENNIINNAAA!!”

Money Back Guarantee by Pigeon John

For some reason I woke up this morning and this song keeps playing on a loop. It’s like I’m humming it without making a sound, I don’t know where these song ideas come from sometimes, but whatever, enjoy the flow!

“Dude, I wanna get hurt…”

Solar invasion, the invention of #LibbyLife, various powders and other accolades, summer is summer with two half gallons of 1800, front futon loungin’, years of stoopin’, Bobby D’s still on the pavement thinkin’ about the government, and my mornings are spent on the front lawn, this posse is still on Broadway,

“Just tryin’ to meetcha…”

Mental melodies take afloat on the river of life,  face paint, written and spoken word, those watercolours grace our epidermal extremities, girls in tutus lost to the beat, rainbow light-up hoola-hoops spinning around a train of waistlines, poi fire staff spinning through space time in loops through it all, we welcome you to the brown town circus,

“That’s my guarantee!”

goodbye dance.JPG

Graceland by The Tallest Man on Earth

I was driving around the other day and this was the last song on an old mix cd. I had one specific warm moment of June 2010 flow through my mind’s eye.

“A window in your heart…”

Mornings in white satin, cuddles intertwine, an open window, a street view, that sweet summer breeze, June in Wisconsin, sunshine dust, the pure moments of drinking water out of jars at 7AM,

“Everybody feels the wind blow…”

 

Get Your Life by Caught a Ghost

I’ve been in this depression//lull period for the past two months. I finally found a path for my future that I thought I could force myself to walk. I met a guy who was into all the same things as me and I was finally applying to a creative writing grad program. Things were always off with him no matter how much we had in common and finally shaky ground became too quaky and the earth crumbled beneath us. At the same time, I found out I hadn’t gotten into the writing program. Everything I’d once invested in for my future no longer fit. It’s broken down to me breaking down once a week and crying almost every day. So in honour of this healing process, I’m dedicating this post to my future. Memories where the past, present and future intermingle in the cosmos of space-time.

“Who we are we will always be…”

Socially awkward gawky pre-teen emerging into a strong, confident young woman, anxious dating style replaced by faith, respect, trust and love, directionless and floating soon becomes career driven: the arts and a book written,

“It’s time to make some brand new friends…”

Bite the hand that feeds you so you can move on with your life, everyone else has moved on it’s your turn now, it’s okay to let go, “I find that when everyone around me disappears, my vibration has changed and it’s me that has to let go and accept that new people and adventures will take their places,” release the negative dead weight, welcome in peaceful, loving, open-minded, hard-working, faithful people

“Go out and fly your flag…”

The book is written, the book is published, continued growth of paintings and photography, my confident loving nature attracts a man the same, we live in peace and harmony raising three kids, a university professor is my final destination,

“Get your life! Get your life! Get your life!”

 

Nantes by Beirut

Judy asked me if I wanted to go to the coffee shop tonight. Meeting with her inspired me to bring out my old journals to see what wisdom, stories, and tall tales lie within those ink stained pages of my early-twenty something past. I found this post and wanted to write to you word-for-word, the memories from France.

2/24/13 Nantes – Beirut

“I’ll gamble away my fright and I’ll gamble away my pride.”

“Just another night in Nantes.”

I started crying because I realized, THIS is what life is about, making your dreams come true. It’s more than just being here, it’s what it represents. A song that defined a moment in my life, a dream that I never let fade away. It’s that fateful night in April when I met Aziz. It’s running hand-in-hand through a thunderstorm. It’s making out passionately in the rain. It’s definitive moments. It’s the fork in the road where you realize the only possible choice is the one where you stay true to who you are. It’s Karl. It’s Christianity. It’s Michael Strader. It’s every guy I’ve ever loved, bottled up into one moment. It’s the climax, the eruption, and Nantes is the icing while I sit nicely as the cherry on top. Nantes, I do not know what you do to me, but what you bring out of me is everything I’ve known but haven’t been able to tap into – until now.

You are the wind beneath my wings.

“Fly like an eagle, let my spirit carry me.”

 

No Music, Just Memories

I’m laying in bed and I’ve been feeling like I’ve been suppressing a lot of shit under the surface. I know it because I’ve been avoiding meditation to clear it. Well, finally I gave myself the space to truly feel it and let memories and feelings bubble to the surface. Out of nowhere came this memory of being in this hostel in Rio the last time I was there, October 2015.

These local indie playboy college guys had come to have a drink with me after meeting me the night before. I couldn’t quite figure out why since their friends seemed obviously bothered the night before that I couldn’t fluently speak their native tongue. They even told me, “You lived here four months before, you should know how to speak by now!” I have had this happen to me before. The last time I was in Rio, March 2014. Different people that were supposed to be like my hostel family turned on me at one point because they said I wasn’t trying to speak their language, that I am just another stupid American who expects everyone to speak English. They told me I should know the Portuguese language by now because I lived in Brazil two months prior to moving to Rio.

People were so mean to me in my travels about the language barrier. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to speak with people. I love speaking with people, sharing ideas, understanding cultures. They just didn’t understand that I couldn’t possibly learn a language at that point. I was so overstimulated and had downloaded so much information from the last year of my life, 2013, that I didn’t have the proper time to digest it all and because of that I couldn’t learn a completely new language on top of it. The part that made me saddest of all though, was that they blamed it on me being American. They thought I wasn’t trying to understand their culture or their roots more because of my nationality, when they weren’t trying to understand me on a humanistic level, that at that point in my life I couldn’t possibly take anything more on.

Everyone will say, then why did you go to Brazil, why did you travel more if you knew you couldn’t take anything more on? I went to Brazil because that’s what my soul told me to do. I had this innate calling from my depths that said, the only thing I want to do right now is teach English in Brazil. I don’t regret going to Brazil at all, Brazil is my favourite place in the world. Maybe Brazilians don’t see it because of their government corruption and high crime rates, but they have the most genuinely warm hearts I’ve ever encountered in travels, a truly unique and beautiful culture. This very experience healed my heart that was very down and broken and realigned my path with what I always knew I was born to be: an artist.

I think as time goes on and as people become one giant homogenized global culture, we have to break away from these labels. We should be expanding our minds as we experience more life, not closing them off.