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Año Sabático

30.07.15
3 min
Post

Quiero una vida aburrida por un rato, en uno de esos pueblos costeros, en los que vivir implica ir a la playa y juntar bichos como berberechos por un rato. Nadar horizontal a la costa. No quiero estudiar más por un rato. No se cuanto, un año, un año estaría bien, aunque amo ir a a facutad y amo las materias y mi carrera… Lo hice cuando terminé la secundaria y me dediqué a boludear y salir mucho y me fui un mes a Uruguay a despedirme de mi abuela e ir a la playa todos los días aunque fuese abril, donde me gané el apodo de “La Sirenita”. Ahí la vida era así. Me levantaba, abría la ventana, olía los pinos en el aire, mi abuela no me dejaba bajar a desayunar si no me lavaba la cara y las manos con jabón antes, costumbre que se me pegó desde entonces y me preparaba el café con leche y siempre había algo casero rico para degustar. Siempre que iba a Uruguay me recibía con scons, el resto de la familia se quejaba en broma diciendo que solo los hacía cuando iba yo. Miraba un poco de tele mientras desayunaba. Había un canal que tenía documentales increíbles, me acuerdo de uno sobre Pixar. Después iba a la playa, no había nadie excepto un par de personas y los del parador. Después veía a mis primos y tios y me iba a nadar un rato a la mansa y ver el atardecer porque queda a 3 cuadras de su casa, o venían y andábamos en sus skates o jugábamos al basket, un poco como ahora pero estaba mi abu, que nos hacía pizzas y pan y entrábamos corriendo de jugar en la calle cuando nos anunciaba que estaba listo. Esta vez yo hice las pizzas y pan como me enseñó. Lo único un poco diferente fue la salsa, la masa era igual, según las críticas de mi familia. Mi abuela pensaba que estaba perdiendo el tiempo y yo seguía extendiendo la vuelta de retorno de mi pasaje porque la existencia ahí era perfecta. Una vez también la visité en invierno y fue igual de perfecto, el hogar a leña, el mar, me la pasé escribiendo cada noche. El último día mi tio y ella me acompañaron a la terminal de ómnibus de Maldonado y ella me dijo que nos volveríamos a ver, porque yo no podía dejar de abrazarla porque sabía que lo más probable sería que esa fuese la última vez. En agosto fui a New York porque mi tio dijo que si no estaba haciendo nada acá, me fuera para allá, así que estuve un mes en NY disfrutando de un verano increíble, lleno de museos, helados deliciosos, rusos potros en bici, Ikea, Gossip Girl, yates, Lee chi martinis y hombres caminando por Coney Island con una pitón en brazos estilo Britney Spears.

Girl Talk II: Cartesian Certainty and a "Feelings' Puppy Party"

30.07.15
15 min
Post
  • Heyy. Sorry I was at a meeting.
  • Hey, it’s alright, but did you see him?
  • Yeah I saw N. Was that what you meant?
  • Yeah, of course!
  • Yes! It was really nice. But, I don’t know, I’m not dying yet.
  • Tell me everything.
  • I mean, he is incredibly attentive, like a real gentleman.
  • You don’t have to die. Tell me all the details.
  • We met downtown, he arrived earlier, we went to a nice Peruvian, we had Ceviche and Huancaína potatoes, we talked a whole lot.
  • Mmm, yummy.
  • Yeah!
  • What did you talk about? I need an illusion, give me that illusion.
  • And he paid because he said he was inviting the other day (so cute)
  • Indeed
  • I don’t know, we talked about art, performances, his next project.
  • Right.
  • Then we walked to his studio, it was super hot, but I told him to go walking, he told me to go see his studio. And, I don’t know, it was really cute, he showed me his studio, he said I could go and work there or whatever anytime, there was another guy working there at the moment and then he had to go see some artists’ studios because he is curating an exhibition, which he invited me to participate
  • Aw, cute.
  • Super. He’s really cute.
  • Nice, and you are going to see each other again?
  • I guess so. He said it was nice seeing me yesterday or something like that but I don’t know, he didn’t make a move, I mean, it’s OK, it was a daytime date.
  • Right. That’s nice.
  • We had mate at his studio, talked about his work.
  • It’s kind of unsettling when they don’t make a move, but at the same time it’s so nice, like no pressure at all.
  • It’s super nice, yeah. At one moment he passed behind me and the only thing he did was to caress my back so tenderly, you know like when someone passes by?
  • Oh, yes, I love that. This hot model did that at a party, it was super hot.
  • Yeah, it’s super cute. And I like it because it’s like he somehow paves the way.
  • Yeaaah, he slowly approaches the gazelle.
  • Yeah. I’m kinda scared I might not like him, though. He’s really cute but I don’t know. He’s really nice.
  • Well, don’t over-think it. Don’t pressure yourself just because he’s the sweetest guy in the galaxy and don’t start either with that “he’s too sweet” thing so you don’t like him anymore.
  • Yeah, you’re right.
  • The other day I told a French girl who lived here for a while, friend of a French friend who now lives in Berlin, that I’ve always had a crush on her. She now lives in Congo.
  • Hahaha who is she?
  • And she didn’t answer so it was like “OK, got it, at least I told her”. J
  • Aww <3
  • Yeah, super cute. Afterwards I thought she was maybe just saying it because she lives really far away now and to be polite, but there was a chemistry, I felt it. We like her.
  • Yeah. I don’t know, I think that we really  know theses things, like super intuitive, it’s just that we live in this kind of culture…
  • Yeah,  totally.
  • Where we repress that knowledge that comes with us. Like “BUT HE DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING”.
  • Totally, we create all these obstacles till it’s nothing.
  • Or you need this Cartesian certainty like “I NEED HIM TO TELL ME HE WANTS TO BE ALL OVER ME AND MARRY ME”. Yeah, totally, haha till it dilutes…
  • Haha, exactly. So sad.
  • I was sad the other day cause I met this friend, L, she told me G was talking about X dating that girl and I don’t know, I got sad.
  • Aha.
  • I don’t know, but trying to move on.
  • Oh, but why did she tell you that? Nonsense.
  • I don’t know. I kinda asked her or something or maybe I wanted to know maybe.
  • I know, but, you edit.
  • Because she said that she saw him alone at this party I almost attended.
  • I don’t know, I didn’t tell you about that picture because I thought it was nonsense and that you would be over-thinking about it afterwards.
  • Yeah, of course, thanks about that.
  • Which party? Haha no worries, but, I mean, friends do that, they don’t need to tell everything… That some guy was talking about that… WTF…
  • Yeah.  She was telling me that another guy in the group was with her so now  they split because the guy got mad and I got sad because it was like “Oh, she is super desired by al the guys?”
  • Should I answer J? Now I got that tingling like floating on a cloud after reading that, that tingling that makes you want to roll on the floor like a kitten.
  • I don’t know, can you answer her? Maybe it’s fun to go on with the exchange.
  • HAHAHA you’re so funny… she was with guys… guys fuck everything, she is not super desired by guys, they desire anything. Yeah, I can answer, but I’m really bad at following this kind of things and I don’t want to be annoying and what can I tell her? “Je t’aime”?
  • Hahaha AW
  • Haha I of course don’t love her because I don’t know her that much, but in that primitive sense, I don’t know, I wouldn’t know what to say. Maybe if I keep on writing her it ends up being bad and this way it’s magical.
  • Yeah, to keep this really nice moment. And that’s it.
  • Yeah, it’s the best, maybe something short like “I hope we see each other again someday”, or something of the sort, silly. Anyway, I’m over-thinking, but awwwwww it’s like a feelings’ puppy party.
  • It’s so nice it makes you feel that way.
  • And, I don’t know, this German girl, she’s just a German,  I haven’t heard about her till you mentioned her, not like I know about everyone because I usually don’t care, but she was with a guy, then she dated another one, it’s something that happens to everybody, it’s not like she is a Greek goddess and you are a cockroach. Yeah,  it is super nice that it makes me feel that way, and she has this name that sounds so lovely with a French accent. I wanna say it all day long.
  • Right. You’re right.
  • Like shivers down my spine, the good ones.
  • AAAAAAWWWWWW. My friend said the German is not ugly, is she prettier than me? I’ve felt shivers down my spine when he touched my back today, I think that’s a good sign.
  • Hahaha you are such an idiot, like retarded, she’s not prettier, she is pretty, yeah. Aw, yes, that feeling when someone caresses your back, BUT, if you don’t like the person, the feeling is more upsetting than a good one.
  • Right. You think?
  • Yeah, you like him at least a bit. I’m not saying you’re in love.
  • Yes, but wait, you say I’m prettier than that girl? She is pretty but she ain’t no goddess.
  • No, you’re not prettier. Different kinds of beauty.
  • :S Realy? I thought I was prettier. Period.
  • I told you, they can fall in love with the ugliest girl in the world, that’s even worse than if he goes out with Kate Moss, because there’s substance. I haven’t seen her in person but I don’t think she’s ugly.
  • Right.
  • Love has nothing to do with external beauty and fucking ain’t over even dating ain’t love.
  • But they are a couple.  I feel like he really wanted to be in a relationship, he wanted a woman to save his life.
  • Yeah, he really wanted that. i think he’s kinda boring though.
  • How?
  • If I were the German girl I’d return and look for a German intellectual like the one I saw at ArteBA, who was oldie but really handsome.
  • Right
  • Yeah, like, boring meaning he is really darky and insecure… So boring.
  • Him? Oh yeah. He’s super insecure, I don’t know what she’s doing with him.
  • She’s the one with the pants in the relationship. But let’s talk about the new guy.
  • Yes.  He’s super cute, like a more real person.
  • We like him. Our names form an anagram.
  • Aw <3
  • I mean the last one seemed like a bogus person which is the antithesis of what I am, in fact, I think he liked me because I was somewhat of an upgrader of his own status.
  • Right… I don’t think he liked you just because of that.
  • I don’t know. You are really cute when it comes to women, when you say things like we are different kinds of beauty.
  • Hahaha but I really think that, and even if you are the prettiest of them all, it doesn’t mean a thing, nobody falls in love because of that, maybe you fuck more and more easily, but not even that.
  • Right. We are beautiful and unlucky.
  • No, we are not unlucky, we are just stupid.
  • Right
  • We’ll learn with time and we’ll relax.
  • Maybe love the one who is available
  • I want one of those silly movie loves in which there are tons of cute moments and there’s this lover’s parallel universe. I think I’ve never had inside jokes with a guy.
  • Well, it will happen.
  • Yeah, I’m not worried, not anymore. And if it’s with a girl I hope she’s got long hair so we can braid each other’s hair.
  • Awww that’s so cute. That’s good. Dude, I did something really stupid.
  • What did you do?
  • I set up a date with some guy from uni that I used to fuck ages ago who teased me all the time cause he wanted to fuck, like a male prostitute.
  • Oh no, not that uni. Those guys are awful. Throwing up all their knowledge on you in a super cocky way.
  • I don’t know. I freaked out and thought that if I have good sex…
  • You won’t enjoy it. You think this way you’ll be over it and not like it used to be, but you’ll do it and you’ll get depressed.
  • How? You say I was always on the upper hand?
  • It’s better to cancel and leave him horny.
  • Someone told me I always had the upper-hand cause I left.
  • No, I’m saying that you want to show like you do. But that was with your ex, I mean with this one.
  • No, I don’t give a shit about this guy, I want to fuck, he’s a good fuck.
  • Hm, he is from that uni.
  • So I don’t think about how it was to fuck my ex. This one’s darker.
  • My point exactly. You’ll fuck this one and you’ll think of your ex and the situation will depress you even if he’s a good fuck.
  • Yeah? Right. You think? From experience?
  • Yeah
  • It’s just that, look, if I fuck the new one, you know what that’ll be like? It’s going to be like MARRIAGE.
  • I know but you aren’t going to fuck him right away.
  • But maybe I like it, I don’t know. NO, that will take a while.
  • Exactly. I don’t know, do what you think it’s better, but I don’t think it’s a good idea, it’s better not to fuck, look what I’m saying… I was thinking the other day, during my 24th year of life I’ve only fucked 3 times. I’ve practically wasted a whole year, but it’s OK, I needed that. I surfed, that sometimes feels better than fucking.
  • Really? I don’t know/ But I fuck really little usually. I’m starting to feel that not being in a relationship sucks. ,Like most fucks are miserable. My friend G is seeing this guy T, DON’T SAY ANYTHING, she wants to kill herself, he doesn’t turn her on and, even worse, he has this super sensitive thing in his dick so it goes down all the time. Like, is fucking that hard? Like a good fuck, you know.
  • Noooo, poor thing! Both of them. That sucks. I don’t know, it’s not difficult, it’s a phase.
  • Indeed
  • I read this every once in a while http://www.vice.com/en_uk/read/being-a-single-girl. It works, it reminds you it’s fun to be single and to fucking carpe diem, read it. Who is G?
  • Let’s see… She doesn’t have a FB account, she is some friends’ friend.
  • No idea. It’s nice not to have a FB account, I’ll get to that point some day and I won’t meet any crushes through fb anymore, they’ll have to write me an email or something of the sort.
  • Haha right
  • Or send me a carrier pigeon or write me on LinkedIn and since I never really check that I won’t over-think.
  • I don’t know, I’ve started reading it, I love being single, I don’t want a relationship or I don’t know what I want but I don’t want to think about anybody.
  • Right, read it all, it’s worth it, it’s funny. Have you realized that you ruined the only two good looking guys in the scene for me this week, right?
  • HAHAHA
  • There’s only one left but he’s got this weird vibe.
  • That guy’s an asshole
  • Yeah, he’s cute but he’s a douche. Although this T guy looks like he’s got some issues.
  • And I can’t cause this friend of mine hooked up with him, I’m starting to feel it’s more practical not to be friends with her, hahah, like she hooked up with all of the guys, at least once.
  • Right, but that happens all the time, if she’s not an ex or was in love with the guy, it doesn’t count.
  • I mean it, dude, she’s super weird though, I once told him Z flirted with me and she asked me who he was so she could go and hook up with him, I don’t know if she’s a hippie or what… We’ve talked about this anyway. Yeah, there’s no other way but to think that way.
  • It’s the way it is, it’s not like if someone close to you fucked someone you can’t, it’s only that way if there was mutual love or on her side.
  • Right, it’s weird though, like really hippie. Anyway…
  • HAHAHA “really hippie”. I’d have to go to Salta with my cousin during the summer, there’s not internet there, it’d be a nice rehab.
  • Oh yes!
  • Coooommeeee
  • To rehab? Hahaha or Salta?
  • They are both the same haha.
  • When are you going?
  • This summer
  • Oh I’d love to but I’d be in NY so I can use the studio
  • Right, it’s fine
  • Like, I should be using it right now but oh well…
  • Right, but, you came here to visit. You are always living in winter, you’re doing it wrong.
  • Hahaha yeah, it’s a disaster. This is not much of a winter, though.
  • No,  I know, it’s very springtime for Hitler.
  • Hahaha
  • I clearly love that phrase
  • I’ve got a final exam tomorrow but I don’t feel like studying.
  • Oh, have a coffee and start studying.
  • You say I’ll be able to do it over a day? I’ve still got the course’s concepts, I don’t know.
  • Yeah, try.
  • Yeah,  I hate studying. I don’t want to anymore, or at least for a while.
  • I know, but it’s the last effort.
  • Yeah. I need a new brain. Well, I failed an annual course, which I shouldn’t have because it means I can’t take Audiovisual Design 2 next year, which means I should get the fuck off of here next year.
  • Wait, how do you know? You just got the news?
  • Yeah, I checked online, I don’t know, I’m not being able to study. I just want to smoke weed all day, you know?

Indian Summer on my Mechanic Black Unicorn

29.07.15
3 min
Post

I wish everybody would move to Berlin so I’d have all Buenos Aires for myself, like in January, best month of the year in the Southern Hemisphere, when everybody leaves town and it’s warm and lovely, like today, Tuesday night in late July, riding my bike around the horse racetrack at 10PM, perfect time because most of the people go running between 6 and 9PM. There was a hot girl and a hot guy and some other people, but I barely saw them because I didn’t fancy them. I wonder if people realize how shitty their running technique really is… They didn’t learn that at school? They put their arms in a way that makes them look like a T-Rex instead of using them to run better and faster or they drag their feet making that annoying sound. The temperature was wonderful today. 27 degrees, nice warm breeze, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts and pigtails, feeling all the warm air on my skin and through my hair, smelling the trees, looking at the moon. I like to close my eyes while walking or riding my bike on an empty street. Just for a few seconds, right before I’m about to hit something, I open my eyes. I wish I could do it for a longer time, I can if I practice. “Berlin is like Barcelona in 2003” my friend said via chat from there. “But is it nice to see all the Argies?” I asked. “I swear it is, you don’t see them in your daily life, but it’s fun to meet them at the club, even D is here djing!”. “Yeah, I guess it’s nice if you are 15.000 Kms away from home to see some familiar faces and hear some familiar words”. On the last part of my way back home on my bike, a girl started cycling faster so she could beat me to the bike path. I felt kind of annoyed because I wanted to enjoy those last 15 blocks as I’ve been doing the rest of the 5Kms, so I started cycing faster as well, standing on my bike, she did the same, she got there first. I did not enjoy going behind her at all, but didn’t want her behind me either, I wanted to take my time or go as fast as I could if I wanted to. So I turned around, went back a few blocks and then started getting back home again. She was nowhere to be seen and I enjoyed the view of the trees, the path before me, the moon and the sweet warm breeze on my skin and through my pigtails once more on my mechanic black unicorn.

Penumbra Routine

23.07.15
1 min
Post

6.27PM This is my favourite light of the day. Inside it’s almost dark, but outside it’s still daytime. Everything is dyed with this grayish blue tone. I resist the first temptation and/or reflex to turn on the light, I look around the room instead, trying to adjust my eyes to this new kind of light, trying to see the whole scene as detailed as I can. Trying to absorb with my eyes as much information as I can, as much of this incredible penumbra and colours before the street light subtly invades my room caressing its darkness as natural light dims down.

Dream Diary: Double Dream

21.07.15
2 min
Post

– Dude, I’ve just had a double dream with you in it. In the first one you liked my brother and bought drugs and in the second one I told you about the first dream and we got shot. – Haha I want more details about that dream! – I can’t, there are morbid details that I’m afraid can be misinterpreted. – Oh, come on, it´s just a dream. – We were in Niceto Club during New Year’s Eve and you bought some drugs and I was looking for someone and I wanted you and my little brother to hook up, you really liked him, and then, at some point, I don’t know why, we fucked for a little while. – Who’s your little brother? We fucked? You’re not that good trying to make people come together. – No, I know. Those things about dreams that nobody understands… My little brother, he’s top notch, F. Well, and then I woke up, I was awake for a little while and I fell asleep again. – Hahaha “little brother”, he’s old enough for you not to call him that anymore. – And in this new dream I was telling you about the previous one and some crazy guy started shooting at us and we ran. – Just like that? – And we wanted to take a cab but there were only 1920 cabs around and we didn’t fit in. – Hahaha great dream. And that was the end? With us not fitting into a cab? – I don’t know, we didn’t fit in, it’s just like that, DREAM’S LOGIC. – Well, nice dreams. – See? Beat that. Impossible.

Cairo

10.07.15
1 min
Voyage

We still live in a world that is divided along cultural and economic lines – we want to change that and try to turn the perspective around: It is important to question the Western hegemony on the narratives of today. 

For this reason we’ve have come to Cairo: To listen, to learn, to explore. We’ve found beautiful minds, people and stories. 60voyages Cairo is a joint production of 60pages and MiCT

We begin to tell them here, until the authors we’ve met, will tell their own. 

What Happened?

05.07.15
1 min
Conversation

Left terror creates images and right terror destroys images. This is certainly true for the Oktoberfestattentat and the NSU. But does this also work the other way around: Terror that creates images is left terror and terror that destroys images is right terror? Where does that leave 9/11 or the Oklahoma bombing? At least it explains – beyond the mean-spirited stupidity and the political cunning – what Franz Josef Strauß meant when he said, about the Oktoberfestattentat, that right terrorist “don’t do” that kind of thing. He believed that an image had been created. He was wrong. And helped bury everything that had to do with it, images, narratives, effectively deleting the memory od the event from German memory. With the consequence that right terror was “inexistant” when the NSU started killing. Which was one reason – apart from mean-spirited rassism and police cunning – that the investigation focused on inner Turkish feuds and drug crimes and not anti-foreigner excess.

Spreading Battle

30.06.15
4 min
Post

One recent Wednesday noon, I left school in a zombie-like walk, tired after just 3 hours sleep and longing for a seat in at least one of the two buses back home. First bus, got off on Saavedra Bridge, where I take another one that leaves me 6 blocks away from home. I felt dizzy, not really understanding my surroundings, but, as being the routinary commute,  I of course did not worry about my drousyness. I got a seat in the filled bus. Halleluyah. I could just be numb and watch out the window. I was relaxed and calm, enjoying the bus’ rocking movement yet trying not to fall asleep because you don’t want to wake up past your stop in the highway. Ten minutes later, a guy sit next to me. He didn’t sit, he landed on the seat, on me, on my personal space, which did not exist anymore. I wasn’t relaxed anymore, I was just trying to reduce myself so my leg didn’t touch his leg, I was super uncomfotable, unlike his balls, which seemed to live in a mansion due to all the space they were getting. I don’t have balls, I don’t even know how men ride bikes with those, because it is sometimes hurtful without having them, I admire you and thank you for carrying half-baked babies around during your whole life, because if they were inside your body, they’d be fully baked, roasted. Anyway, away from your sack and back to me, I was trying to continue my chill journey back home, watching out the window, feeling this guy’s pressure against my left side, really tired, asking myself howcome someone lands on the sit as if they were free falling from space and that’s the area they found to land coming at who knows what speed from the sky… “You gotta be grateful there’s no real collateral damage, girl, you feel invaded? Look what I had to do to fall this gracefully from outer space… Give me a break”. But no, he was standing on the bus and decided that he was no longer going to control his weight and sense of space, so he just gave that responsibility to me. I started observing the women on the bus, their legs were all really tight together. It’s funny that if a guy is seating and a woman goes sitting next to him, she most likely doesn’t take the entire sit, but 3/4 of it, because she won’t sit in a way she pushes the guy’s leg, she usually respects that the guy was comfortable sitting there and then she arrived. Some men do accommodate to the other passenger, but many don’t. By this point, I was in a mood… Remember I only slept three hours and that guy just took my pleasant trip back home away from me. So I decided I wanted to do some spreading myself, you know, sometimes my clit really needs some fresh air…? Or maybe I just wanted to have my personal space back, one centimeter of air between legs and we are good to go, maybe I want to feel like my body can relax and doesn’t have to suddenly shrink so your balls feel the sea breeze. Anyway, I spreaded my legs, pushing his, till his leg wasn’t invading my seat area, that sweet line where our seats get divided, that’s a line you shall not pass. He didn’t get the hint, he applied force, his leg pushing against mine. I was tired, I wasn’t up for that kind of shit, but I was super moody and mad as well, so I kept my leg on the border of my seat, where it was before he decided I didn’t need my whole seat. The last 10 to 15 minutes of the bus ride, longest 10 to 15 minutes, exhausting 10 to 15 minutes which I spent looking at him in disbelief, moving myself on the seat to regain my space back, spreading against him so I could sit on my whole seat and not just on 3/4 of it. I just wanted to get off that bus and walk home and take a nap. And so I did when I got to my stop, the moment I decided the battle was over but not lost.

Stranded mit Ralph

23.05.15
5 min
Post

After a paradisiac week in Punta del Este, meaning 32C degrees and surfing in just my bikini for two hours (after that my fingers start to go numb), in April, in autumn, a season that when I was in Punta del Este back in 2009 we had to light up the chimney, even though I would go to the beach and swim in the ocean anyway, reason why the guys working at the beach bar called me “Little Mermaid”. But let’s not difer, after such an incredible summer week at the beginning of autumn, my last day in Punta del Este was warm, but the windiest of them all. At 3PM I headed towards the beach anyway to which seemed like a sand storm. There was a guy napping there with a huge backpack and three kids running around and playing. In my sleep, trying not to eat sand, I heard them speaking German. Which made everything more clear, since no local would be on the beach on a day like that. Only a crazy German would. I left to another beach in search of a dune that would shelter me from the wind with no success, wind was coming from every possible direction. So I went back, walking through lots of accumulated iodine. The German and his kids were still there. The sea was wild, wilder than it usually is. Waves were going, following the wind, in every direction, breaking in every spot you could lock your eyes on. Lifeguards were all wearing jackets, having some mate inside their cabin. I was dying to get into the sea, but my family would tell me I was crazy as they did when I left to the beach. It was my last day, but with the sea like that, I was doubting myself and my swimming skills. At that moment, the German starts changing clothes, using a towel to cover himself he put his bathing suit on and walked towards the sea. He was my perfect excuse, the water was warm, the air, even full of sand, was warm as well. He swam  to the horizon not to be seen again, I went into the water. It was lovely, I didn’t want to get out, I didn’t see the German again till he came from another part of the beach and got into the water again. We both got out at practically the same time. We were near because there weren’t a lot of places where you could cover yourself from the mild sand storm, so he talked to me and asked where I was from. I told him I was from Argentina and he said “Ooh, that’s why, not Uruguayan woman would bath on a day like this”… I asked him where he was from, he said Germany. “That’s why you are at the beach as well…What do you do here?” He told me he works as a lawyer, his partner represents them both in Germany and he works from Punta del Este thanks to some little magic called the internet. He then continued talking about how Uruguay is different from the rest of Latin America and how in Germany summer was brief and unstable meanwhile in Uruguay he goes to the beach while the water is warm which is, as he said, from October to May, that is 8 months of beach against 6 weeks of summer: “We only have one life, so why not spend it here, at the beach? Everything is expensive here, but if Uruguayans can do it, so can we”, he told me, which made total sense and thought he was certainly winning at this game. In his 50s, proud of his hairy beer belly, enjoying the beach everyday as if it were the last, taking his kids, who were doing their own thing running all over the place, leaving him in peace to have a nice nap under the sun. They only came when they knew it was time to leave by the sight of his father taking his bathing suit off and changing his clothes. A total geezer. I was a bit cold since I was sick that morning, and his kids came to talk to him so we started to say goodbye. He asked me my name, his was Ralph. He corrected my “R” twice, first an English one then a French one till at last I got something that sounded a bit more Germanic. I started to walk back home, he and his kids went to grab their bikes. I was waiting to cross the avenue by the beach, which sometimes takes like forever due to a curve and as he started crossing right behind me a car came, I heard the break and Ralph saying not so nice things to the driver super out loud and waving his arms up in the air, then three boys went past me riding their bikes, followed by that crazy German waving to me and saying “Chau”, who was there at the beach to make me realize that I wasn’t crazy because I wanted to feel the ocean in spite of the weather one last time, that the crazy ones were all those who weren’t at the beach.

My mum and I at my piano lesson circa 1994, 1995.

Metal Triangle Kinda Girl

14.04.15
5 min
Post

Since I was three years old till I was ten, I went to piano and double-decker keyboard lessons. It all started when my mum entered her room while I was watching telly. I was watching ballet. I just thought the ballerinas were beautiful and elegant and magical altogether. The music was piano. She told me in that tone people use when they are deeply inhaling whatever they are experiencing and feeling with awe and joy: “Listen to that piano.. Do you like it?” I was three, I said yes to please her, not that I didn’t like it, but I was paying attention to the dancing, not the music. “I’ve read kids who learn how to play an instrument when they are little learn to read and write quicker and turn out smarter than other kids… Do you want to learn how to play the piano?”. I, a bit confused about how that conversation turned out, said that I wanted to be a ballerina. My mum said: “Yeah, but do you want to learn how to play the piano? Listen how lovely it is.” Being an only child as I was back then, my parents, and mostly my mum were the world to me, I wanted to please her. I said yes in a “yeah, why not? Let’s try this piano thing I don’t really get because I’ve only been on this planet for three years and haven’t seen much of it” kinda way.

So it started, my mum would come to the lessons with me, because it was mandatory since we were all really little. She was thrilled, to me it was like a game. Learning new things and mastering in what could look like a cocky way to others is my own personal game, although I was super lazy and went to school all day long so my mum had to remind me that I had to practice for me to play at home. I remember one morning when I was 5, there was this piano music playing on TV so I turned my keyboard on and started playing it. My mum heard me and she was so happy I’ve developed such a good ear.

The lessons were divided in parts. One was playing whatever we were playing at the moment, another was exercising on the piano, another one was singing musical notes while the teacher would play the piano, another one was turning our backs to the piano and sing the note she was playing, we had to guess. It was fun. Then, at the end of the class, we would do an ensemble with several simple percussion instruments. Since I was three, I always chose the triangle, I chose it because it was metallic, simple, shiny, whimsical and magical to me. Its sound seemed from another world full of fairies and ballerinas. Whether the rest of the instruments were bongos, some others made of wood and a xylophone, which I played once when they gave the triangle to the most obnoxious girl in the class, even though we were all friends, she was daddy’s little perfect girl, ahead of the class, with pompous dresses and super tidy hairdos with her straight, strong black hair and her sacred pale skin, also, her name was Miracles in Spanish… Anyway, this isn’t about her, everything was fine with her although she was really annoying in that way.

One day, when I was 8, my teacher got sick of me always choosing the triangle and a boy whose name I can’t remember choosing a wooden rectangular hollow instrument which name I’ve never ever learnt. So she made us switch. We all started playing and I couldn’t keep the beat exactly right with this new and strange to me instrument I was experimenting with. Also, to my surprise, since I’ve always thought the triangle was the most beautiful but still the easiest instrument on the ensemble followed by toc-tocs, the boy couldn’t keep the beat with the triangle either! I was not a complete failure who could only play the stupid triangle and it wasn’t as easy as it seemed, after all. My teacher stopped us to fix the beat. The next time I was getting it right but the triangle kid kept missing the beat. The next time the triangle kid got it right but I didn’t. Then another time we both got it right but after all the previous mistakes, we confused some of the other kids who were now making mistakes. Finally, the teacher got tired and frustrated and she gave me my triangle and the kid his wooden instrument back. I was pissed because I wanted to master it, yet happy and glad to have my beloved metal, shiny, whimsical, magical triangle back.

Año Sabático

30.07.15
3 min

Girl Talk II: Cartesian Certainty and a "Feelings' Puppy Party"

30.07.15
15 min

Indian Summer on my Mechanic Black Unicorn

29.07.15
3 min

Penumbra Routine

23.07.15
1 min

Dream Diary: Double Dream

21.07.15
2 min

What Happened?

05.07.15
1 min

Spreading Battle

30.06.15
4 min

Stranded mit Ralph

23.05.15
5 min

Metal Triangle Kinda Girl

14.04.15
5 min