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I will never forget this little girl. She was passing out little cards to raise money on a bus in Buenos Aires. She was tiny and had the sweetest little Spanish voice as she went from seat to seat hoping to get some change. I think she had a black eye which broke my heart, but it was her resolve that really moved me. And when she saw me drawing she stopped and looked over at my sketchbook and started talking to me in Spanish, like she was curious about what I was doing. I explained that I didn't speak Spanish, and she kept right on talking. I ached to know what she was asking me. I still do.
Although I suspect what really hurt was that I wanted to save her, and I couldn't.
In a belated portrait exchange, here is my late drawing of Pati. Thanks for being so patient! You can see the one she did of me here.
my little world."Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." -- Thomas Alva Edison
Not sure why, but this just seemed to fit the topic. Because I'm detached when I dream? Or detached from needing to remember? Or am I just crazy and/or deluded? :-)
"He is a wise man who does not
grieve for the things which he has not,
but rejoices for those which he has."
--Epictetus
I always prefer flying instead of sailing. Typical view from the cheap seats, right before the bald guy in front of me leans back and spills my drink in my lap and onto my computer bag, with a wailing baby and 2 drunk passengers providing the soundtrack.Maybe I should take up sailing?
You may remember this post: things I notice on the airplane ride.
Today is 8/8/08. :-)
And just like magic, one day they all start to transform. Some creak, some stop working, and some just start to look funky. :-)
"You're never too old to grow younger."
-Mae West
I will never forget this little girl. She was passing out little cards to raise money on a bus in Buenos Aires. She was tiny and had the sweetest little Spanish voice as she went from seat to seat hoping to get some change. I think she had a black eye which broke my heart, but it was her resolve that really moved me. And when she saw me drawing she stopped and looked over at my sketchbook and started talking to me in Spanish, like she was curious about what I was doing. I explained that I didn't speak Spanish, and she kept right on talking. I ached to know what she was asking me. I still do.
