I am cloistered– from the heat and reality in my guest room turned art-space.
The wax melts into the crackling resin on the hot plate. The Dead Kennedys play loud and discordant and I am settling in to a day of extremes.
I shy away from bragging. So I have stopped writing on this forum. I am still aware of my excessive good fortune, but Astrid is moving to the USA for college.
This life is fleeting. Today I grab for tangible examples of existence. The summer has started here, I haven’t been here for the summers in a couple of years. It’s epic. The jungle moves in and you are forced to feel yourself, the heat, the fucked up lack of water, the joy at seeing the trash truck, the scorpions, all as one. You can choose to feel the extremes. Dancing barefoot.