our ways to offer
March 31, 2007
manifesta di 4 marzo
i want to hurry up and move to italy. fall passionately in love with an italian and get married. i want to dance on the streets and make love all the time. drink wine, sing songs, and say hello to my neighbors. swim in the sea and have babies. and then make art about all that. and publish it. who wouldn't want to read about that or see it? because everybody wants that passion and they rarely have it. and then they can remember the flame. - march 4
il affare
towards the end of last quarter and over my spring break, i neglected writing here frequently. which is not my intention. so maybe a little update is required. sorry, i find this slightly unprofessional and artistic to include business. allora:
1. i've received george barse's letters. (however, i'm also taking a graduate level english class, so time for reading seems nonexistent).
2. fabio's mother is not well and due to this we are not able to work on our art project as much as we'd like. we are still unclear as to what is wrong, but they are on my mind frequently and i hope her situation will improve as soon as possible.
3. also, many people have asked how i will represent fabio on this blog. they've requested a photograph:
4. a cousin of the barse family randomly discovered this blog, and consequently, me. he has sent me a painting postcard of my greatgrandmother. i believe eventually we should catalog all of the family paintings.
5. for spring break, i was able to visit my family in oklahoma. mother and i made many dresses and a couple skirts as well. this is something that my great grandmother did for as long as i know, and something i am doing for to wear quest'estate. mother will ship them to me (as i did not have room for to take them home) and then i will post. i was also able to visit with my grandparents. i have new photographs of the family to archive, and i even learned some napolitan dialect from grandpa!
1. i've received george barse's letters. (however, i'm also taking a graduate level english class, so time for reading seems nonexistent).
2. fabio's mother is not well and due to this we are not able to work on our art project as much as we'd like. we are still unclear as to what is wrong, but they are on my mind frequently and i hope her situation will improve as soon as possible.
3. also, many people have asked how i will represent fabio on this blog. they've requested a photograph:
4. a cousin of the barse family randomly discovered this blog, and consequently, me. he has sent me a painting postcard of my greatgrandmother. i believe eventually we should catalog all of the family paintings.
5. for spring break, i was able to visit my family in oklahoma. mother and i made many dresses and a couple skirts as well. this is something that my great grandmother did for as long as i know, and something i am doing for to wear quest'estate. mother will ship them to me (as i did not have room for to take them home) and then i will post. i was also able to visit with my grandparents. i have new photographs of the family to archive, and i even learned some napolitan dialect from grandpa!
March 30, 2007
una lettera aperta
caro mio,
she reminded me how much i enjoy writing. all those feelings.
and of course, i think to you.
e certo, penso a tu.
ti porto sempre con me.
penso alle parole poetic per usare.
ma ho paura...
ti dire che ti amo.
ma quando ti penso,
io so c'è qualcosa di speciale...
io so che ti amo.
mia storia e mio futuro sentono più sicuri di mio presente.
ma insieme....è troppo?
forse no.
dimmi tutto.
desidero sapere tutto.
(and is it even worth adding?: mi manchi)
she reminded me how much i enjoy writing. all those feelings.
and of course, i think to you.
e certo, penso a tu.
ti porto sempre con me.
penso alle parole poetic per usare.
ma ho paura...
ti dire che ti amo.
ma quando ti penso,
io so c'è qualcosa di speciale...
io so che ti amo.
mia storia e mio futuro sentono più sicuri di mio presente.
ma insieme....è troppo?
forse no.
dimmi tutto.
desidero sapere tutto.
(and is it even worth adding?: mi manchi)
March 8, 2007
Insieme Uguale
insieme/uguale (touching for rachel languages) a manifestation di fabio rocco oliva e rachele maria
my first video. our first video. a consecration of egalitarian partnership. and a manifesto of the italian language. in regards to a conversation.....
improvisation, pt. 2
one of the greatest sounds and smells
boiling water for ravioli and homemade sauce
March 7, 2007
improvisation
one of my goals in life is to cook as well as my mother. although i am a good cook, i have little improvisation skills. i can only improvise recipes. i cannot improvise my refrigerator. but last night i did.
premade ravioli (in this case i had spinach pasta filled with gorgonzola with garlic)
for the sauce ingredients you will need:
olive oil (GOOD italian extra virgin olive oil)
garlic
sweet onion, sauteed
dry basil
red pepper flakes (crushed in hand)
mushrooms, sauteed
fresh roma tomatoes
artichoke hearts
salt and pepper to taste
put the tomatoes in last, due to the fact that they soften and warm quickly and you don't want them to completely turn to mushy liquid.
of course, dinner is not complete without a glass of red wine....
premade ravioli (in this case i had spinach pasta filled with gorgonzola with garlic)
for the sauce ingredients you will need:
olive oil (GOOD italian extra virgin olive oil)
garlic
sweet onion, sauteed
dry basil
red pepper flakes (crushed in hand)
mushrooms, sauteed
fresh roma tomatoes
artichoke hearts
salt and pepper to taste
put the tomatoes in last, due to the fact that they soften and warm quickly and you don't want them to completely turn to mushy liquid.
of course, dinner is not complete without a glass of red wine....
March 1, 2007
guardi queste fotografie!
I have stumbled upon this photographer, Branson De Cou. I don't really know who he is, except what's important: he photographed Italy during the 1920s and 1930s and now there is an archive in California, online.
Here is the image index.
De Cou worked in the format of lantern slides. This means he is photographing on glass plates, which, when processed, form a transparent positive (like slide film), and were to be projected creating life size images. De Cou apparently contracted four different painters to color his images.
What I notice is that I feel not much has changed (which is odd, considering Italy was leading up to a fascist regime at the time of the photographs). The architecture remains, the roads are the same. More cars, more people, more street vendors. Same people, same color, same smiles.
per essempio (De Cou siena v. my siena),
Allora, some cities to note of course are:
Capri
Napoli
Amalfi
Here is the image index.
De Cou worked in the format of lantern slides. This means he is photographing on glass plates, which, when processed, form a transparent positive (like slide film), and were to be projected creating life size images. De Cou apparently contracted four different painters to color his images.
What I notice is that I feel not much has changed (which is odd, considering Italy was leading up to a fascist regime at the time of the photographs). The architecture remains, the roads are the same. More cars, more people, more street vendors. Same people, same color, same smiles.
per essempio (De Cou siena v. my siena),
Allora, some cities to note of course are:
Capri
Napoli
Amalfi
La Pasticceria
(assisi, july 2006)I had almost forgotten how wonderful
these were:
Most of my summer will be spent in Napoli. Last summer was strange: Napoli seemed tame and un-fun. Everyone insisted on warning me how dangerous and terrible the city was. I walked around paranoid for no reason, photographing little of the city. I did not see anything even remotely suspiscious. Even the traffic was less intense than Roma. My complaint of the city stemmed from having to walk through sewer to reach my hostel and all the closed chiese. Yet, the people were ridiculously generous and helpful, kind and flirtatious. (My kind of people.) As I walk down Via Toledo from Galleria Umberto I I decided to finally indulge in the wonderfulness of la pasticceria napoletana.
The more I talk with Fabio, absorbing his passion, the more I fall in love with Napoli. I learn: it is not that hard. With the history and reputation la città continues to have, it is clear the people have hope. Anch'io.
(Note: Some will notice to their chagrin that I am linking to Italy wikipedia. If you want to read, click on the English language. But what you will also notice is that in English, we have very little information. Unfocus your desire to know what each word means, and take the entirety of the page in. It's like listening to Italian: by the sheer volume of things, you realize their passion and understand what they say.)
February 20, 2007
l'autobus è molto in ritardo
On Tuesdays, I take the 4:15 pm bus home. I love this bus. It is filled to capacity, in American standards. It reminds me of Roma: damp bodies smashed together, semi-chaotic. “Ma’am I’m sorry you can’t ride this bus, it’s too full, nobody behind the line.”
“It’s OK! They can squish together,” I tell him.
My body is trained now: I know how to bend my knees, limp my body, shift my weight into the turns, bumps, accelerations, and brakes, and how to hold the bars properly. Look like I’m minding my own business, when in fact, I’m attempting to eavesdrop on as much as possible. In Roma, less seats, more people. It’s fun to watch how uncomfortable Americans are in crammed buses. (And really, it’s not that cramped). And even more fun, yet appalling, to notice how many American men my age do not give up their seat. In fact, I will give up my seat to a man with crutches before someone else does. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
In Italia, the bus is an adventure: too many people, too many buses it becomes impossible to know which one to take, and vague stops. Should I buy a ticket for the bus or not? They can’t possibly check when there are 80 people on a bus. But if I get caught, it’s 35 euro. Everything is a decision in Italy; every decision carries various factors; it’s all worth pondering. I’ll get to where I need to be, make a friend or two while waiting for the bus or conversating on the bus, and have fun all at the same time. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
“It’s OK! They can squish together,” I tell him.
My body is trained now: I know how to bend my knees, limp my body, shift my weight into the turns, bumps, accelerations, and brakes, and how to hold the bars properly. Look like I’m minding my own business, when in fact, I’m attempting to eavesdrop on as much as possible. In Roma, less seats, more people. It’s fun to watch how uncomfortable Americans are in crammed buses. (And really, it’s not that cramped). And even more fun, yet appalling, to notice how many American men my age do not give up their seat. In fact, I will give up my seat to a man with crutches before someone else does. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
In Italia, the bus is an adventure: too many people, too many buses it becomes impossible to know which one to take, and vague stops. Should I buy a ticket for the bus or not? They can’t possibly check when there are 80 people on a bus. But if I get caught, it’s 35 euro. Everything is a decision in Italy; every decision carries various factors; it’s all worth pondering. I’ll get to where I need to be, make a friend or two while waiting for the bus or conversating on the bus, and have fun all at the same time. In Italia, we ride together; in America, we ride separately in the same bus.
February 18, 2007
February 12, 2007
siena, july 2006
eating figs.
we ate like the romans.
paolo pulled back the flesh. we pulled at the flesh. we ate the pulp. i let it drip down my chin.
he fed me the fruit. he fed me my heart.
______________
the love i feel.... it's different in italy. it's better. passion becomes undeniable, filling every cell in my body. smiling and giggling naturally follow. i feel comfortable in my own skin.
in usa, i am deemed obsessive and crazy. in italy, i'm simply passionate. andy said one day i would meet someone who appreciated my "intensity." allora....
February 11, 2007
la megliore cena
this evening was by far the best italian dinner i've ever made. one of my friends, peter, lived in italy for 4 months as a study abroad. he hates beans; he ate them tonight. he even said, "meglio del sesso!!"
and this dinner sort of solidifies it for me. i've learned i'm no longer to say "i want to move to italy." instead i say "when i move to italy. or i will move to italy." i will begin the affirmations. beginning late last night and into today, i began to have distinct and vivid visions of italy. of my time there l'estate passato. how i used to call to paolo: mano mano mano mano mano!!! for to hold his hand. e poi, the back streets of napoli. how i took the subway back and forth. the multitude of street vendors. the anonymity. the joviality; the warthm; the closed down chiese (perchè??); the shoes i wanted but didn't buy; the ubiquity of dead sea creatures; unknown vias; strangers offering me dinner, caffè. and i think about what i shall name my children.
stasera, cucino:
attending guests:
shawna, zac, peter, ian
and this dinner sort of solidifies it for me. i've learned i'm no longer to say "i want to move to italy." instead i say "when i move to italy. or i will move to italy." i will begin the affirmations. beginning late last night and into today, i began to have distinct and vivid visions of italy. of my time there l'estate passato. how i used to call to paolo: mano mano mano mano mano!!! for to hold his hand. e poi, the back streets of napoli. how i took the subway back and forth. the multitude of street vendors. the anonymity. the joviality; the warthm; the closed down chiese (perchè??); the shoes i wanted but didn't buy; the ubiquity of dead sea creatures; unknown vias; strangers offering me dinner, caffè. and i think about what i shall name my children.
stasera, cucino:
attending guests:
shawna, zac, peter, ian
February 8, 2007
dear italy,
Dear Italy,
i think i started the school year wrong. you see, i'm letting things get to me. i'm letting me miss you. because i know right now you are still warm, the people are kind, and your food is fresh. i won't see you till june, maybe even july. i'm so sorry i left you, and i cannot wait to return. it's that i have to finish school. and i begin learning your language soon. because i want to curl up inside you and reside there. i'm so sorry i've been angry. i should have done what you told me to. i should have let go. i should be enjoying. (la prima lettera di 26 settembre)
e oggi (la seconda lettera):
dear italy,
i guess i feel compelled to thank you. for reminding me what passion really is. and that it is ok. for reminding me that american taboos are stupid and damaging. you make me want to be better. you make me inspired to educate myself, to demand a voice! you remind me that i have to fight for all the people. that i cannot let go of my ideals, of all the politics. love is crazy. and intuition... i must necessarily follow it. voglio essere una moglie e una madre e una artista. e con tu, so potere. ti amo.
non vedo l'ora di ti vedo ancora!!!! solo quattro mese!!
a presto,
tua rachelmaria.
i think i started the school year wrong. you see, i'm letting things get to me. i'm letting me miss you. because i know right now you are still warm, the people are kind, and your food is fresh. i won't see you till june, maybe even july. i'm so sorry i left you, and i cannot wait to return. it's that i have to finish school. and i begin learning your language soon. because i want to curl up inside you and reside there. i'm so sorry i've been angry. i should have done what you told me to. i should have let go. i should be enjoying. (la prima lettera di 26 settembre)
e oggi (la seconda lettera):
dear italy,
i guess i feel compelled to thank you. for reminding me what passion really is. and that it is ok. for reminding me that american taboos are stupid and damaging. you make me want to be better. you make me inspired to educate myself, to demand a voice! you remind me that i have to fight for all the people. that i cannot let go of my ideals, of all the politics. love is crazy. and intuition... i must necessarily follow it. voglio essere una moglie e una madre e una artista. e con tu, so potere. ti amo.
non vedo l'ora di ti vedo ancora!!!! solo quattro mese!!
a presto,
tua rachelmaria.
February 7, 2007
blog statement
i think i had it figured out last night. at least most of it. but i talked about it, i didn’t write it. and now i have to remember, which seems so easy and so difficult at the same time.
i’m lost. what the fuck am i doing in this town? i mean… i know: going to grad school, getting my MFA. but italy changed everything. now i bide my time, wait to flee the country. to go and be happy. to go enjoy. i wonder if this is making sense.
i was named after my great grandmother, from the island of capri. falling in love in italy is much different; it feels more real. and it was. so i’ve rearranged my life: i’m learning the language, talking to the people, cooking the food, and spending as much time there (instead of here) as is possible. this is not easy: pretending you are somewhere you are not.
i will find my family; i will find my self.
and so, i have a writer friend in napoli. fabio says: “i'm a writer. searching for a lenguage-brigde between body and letters(madness).” when i read his words, i’m overwhelmed with inspiration. i’m fascinated with the language we have created together, and the connection made through a spoken and unspoken understanding. there is an understanding that i have not felt before, a longing. and for now, this placates me and my sadness.
do you know i've never missed anything so much in my life? not even oklahoma. i want to touch every inch of that country. i want to curl back up into his bed and i want anna to hold me as if i were her own. i want to walk the whole city with blisters and twisted ankles. i want to squish into the pockets of space in the buses. i want gnocchi and soccer and bicchieres of wine and confusion and giggling uncontrollably and strange showers and gelato every afternoon and sunshine and all the chaos. i want italian children.
in italy, i feel weightless, i feel carefree, i feel happy and beautiful and drenched in sun. i feel healthy, loved, loving and in love, ready and spontaneous. curious, a little hesitant, but devoted. i feel at home. and in this collaboration, i have potential to feel those things again. in this collaboration, there is potential. for understanding everything. for knowing all the stories.
i’m lost. what the fuck am i doing in this town? i mean… i know: going to grad school, getting my MFA. but italy changed everything. now i bide my time, wait to flee the country. to go and be happy. to go enjoy. i wonder if this is making sense.
i was named after my great grandmother, from the island of capri. falling in love in italy is much different; it feels more real. and it was. so i’ve rearranged my life: i’m learning the language, talking to the people, cooking the food, and spending as much time there (instead of here) as is possible. this is not easy: pretending you are somewhere you are not.
i will find my family; i will find my self.
and so, i have a writer friend in napoli. fabio says: “i'm a writer. searching for a lenguage-brigde between body and letters(madness).” when i read his words, i’m overwhelmed with inspiration. i’m fascinated with the language we have created together, and the connection made through a spoken and unspoken understanding. there is an understanding that i have not felt before, a longing. and for now, this placates me and my sadness.
do you know i've never missed anything so much in my life? not even oklahoma. i want to touch every inch of that country. i want to curl back up into his bed and i want anna to hold me as if i were her own. i want to walk the whole city with blisters and twisted ankles. i want to squish into the pockets of space in the buses. i want gnocchi and soccer and bicchieres of wine and confusion and giggling uncontrollably and strange showers and gelato every afternoon and sunshine and all the chaos. i want italian children.
in italy, i feel weightless, i feel carefree, i feel happy and beautiful and drenched in sun. i feel healthy, loved, loving and in love, ready and spontaneous. curious, a little hesitant, but devoted. i feel at home. and in this collaboration, i have potential to feel those things again. in this collaboration, there is potential. for understanding everything. for knowing all the stories.
February 3, 2007
la collaborazione
fabio scrive:
The reality I see is the reality and that is
the words: every single piece - fragment -
it is the
restlessness of the word.
I love going around for the city and to see
men's pieces thrown to earth,
decrepit buildings,
marginal fragments, the fragmented literature and
discontinuous it reflects itself in the fragmented reality and
discontinuous. it is advanced for explosions and I don't believe in the
history in any form of unity. the totality that reality embraces is
exploded, fragmented.
e io faccio:
fabio scrive:
I love walking alone for the city looking for my
shadowriting. it is an intense period of my life. I don't love to be
firm. And I walk in my black coat, and working on the street thinking
also at your pictures. I building something but I need time. And we
have time for our collaboration.
e io faccio:
quando passeggiato, penso a fabio e le sue parole. e poi, ho visto questa! la donna più bella, ballante. unexpected, overwhelmed: it was the time that my words could not be used and instead my eyes and fingers.
The reality I see is the reality and that is
the words: every single piece - fragment -
it is the
restlessness of the word.
I love going around for the city and to see
men's pieces thrown to earth,
decrepit buildings,
marginal fragments, the fragmented literature and
discontinuous it reflects itself in the fragmented reality and
discontinuous. it is advanced for explosions and I don't believe in the
history in any form of unity. the totality that reality embraces is
exploded, fragmented.
e io faccio:
fabio scrive:
I love walking alone for the city looking for my
shadowriting. it is an intense period of my life. I don't love to be
firm. And I walk in my black coat, and working on the street thinking
also at your pictures. I building something but I need time. And we
have time for our collaboration.
e io faccio:
quando passeggiato, penso a fabio e le sue parole. e poi, ho visto questa! la donna più bella, ballante. unexpected, overwhelmed: it was the time that my words could not be used and instead my eyes and fingers.
February 1, 2007
le attese
sometimes i am overcome with desire. and longing. i have phantom throbbing. like i will crawl out from beneath my skin. i want to scream and shimmy shake. today ann told me to give myself permission. to let go. in fact, she gave me her permission too. perhaps she knew i didn't have the strength to do it for myself.
why can't i let go?? why can't i just let myself enjoy this? dimmi dimmi dimmi, perchè no lo so. dimmi che mi ami. dimmi che sono OK. dimmi che sono vivo.
and don't tell me there's something poetic about the awkward silences.
why can't i let go?? why can't i just let myself enjoy this? dimmi dimmi dimmi, perchè no lo so. dimmi che mi ami. dimmi che sono OK. dimmi che sono vivo.
and don't tell me there's something poetic about the awkward silences.
January 30, 2007
cena italiana
a project i laxadaisically forgot to mention: cooking italian dinner at least once a week. so far i've only documented one of the dinners (one of three). this is problematic: how do i discuss my art project without documentation of it? how do i prove it was art? how do others discuss it? because what i realize is: it's so much more about being than proving.
sometimes i'm overwhelmed with ideas. sometimes i'm dry as a desert for weeks. both are exhausting. thinking is exhausting. feeling sad and frustratd and busy and lonely are all so exhausting. and then today i realized i wanted thai curry more than anything else. (eastern food has always been my comfort food.)
here's the menu so far.
jan. 19 Fettuccine with Marscapone, Toasted Walnuts and Basil
jan. 26 Fussili with Carmelized Onions and Walnuts
jan. 27 Fennel Soup
sometimes i'm overwhelmed with ideas. sometimes i'm dry as a desert for weeks. both are exhausting. thinking is exhausting. feeling sad and frustratd and busy and lonely are all so exhausting. and then today i realized i wanted thai curry more than anything else. (eastern food has always been my comfort food.)
here's the menu so far.
jan. 19 Fettuccine with Marscapone, Toasted Walnuts and Basil
jan. 26 Fussili with Carmelized Onions and Walnuts
jan. 27 Fennel Soup
January 29, 2007
January 28, 2007
January 25, 2007
pomegranate premonition
today was a ridiculously lousy day. by 4 pm i realized that i simply could not not eat a pomegranate. season is over. i only have two (now one) left. it's like they must be preserved until next year, or an emergency.
i cut it open. but it was different this time. it was like it knew i had begun bleeding. and it bled that much more. for me. like sympathy pains, sympathy bleeding. i peeled away all the seeds, out of the water this time. they plucked off the dry skin so easily. it was a mess. the blood splattered up onto my hands, arms, and sweatshirt. almost violent. almost.
inside the fruit are all my ancestors. all the women of italy. and we come together. we bled. and then healed.
i cut it open. but it was different this time. it was like it knew i had begun bleeding. and it bled that much more. for me. like sympathy pains, sympathy bleeding. i peeled away all the seeds, out of the water this time. they plucked off the dry skin so easily. it was a mess. the blood splattered up onto my hands, arms, and sweatshirt. almost violent. almost.
inside the fruit are all my ancestors. all the women of italy. and we come together. we bled. and then healed.
January 23, 2007
meeting neighbors
tonight i had italian lessons. they are going well, thanks for asking. and do you know who i met?? alisse! and do you know where she is from??? NETTUNO!! perchè è questo importante? mi domandi. perchè è la città next to anzio, dove la famiglia di paolo hanno una casa di estate vicino il mare. in fact, i was in nettuno last summer. allora, i will have to go next summer. perhaps we can meet up. pazzo!! small world...
January 20, 2007
January 18, 2007
but more about the neck-laces
i've never been a great swimmer. i was one of the irrational secretive ones that still believed there were sharks in the chlorinated pools of neighbors. ironically, i spent many summers as a child going to the beach without any worries. and these were the beaches with man-of-war monitor lifeguards. as i got older, (free) swimming pools seemed less acessible (not to mention gross). but when i went to italy, and especially when i went to capri, i was determined to swim in the ocean again. (although, paolo insists on reminding me it's only a sea.) and so, i absorbed the salt that had once absorbed into my great grandmother. i've spent my entire life staring at a painting of her swimming that tyrrhenian sea. the current is strong, the beaches are rocky, but it was fantastic. italians swim like fish. i have to practice. italians tan ridiculously well. that one i will practice less.
napoli is the main medium to capri. paolo and i had a terrible fight before i left for napoli. we thought it was over. on the day that i decided to call him and tell him i still loved him, i walked down to the beach. i bought a stick of corn and sat way out on the rocks. i watched the men swim. now that i am home, i stare at my maps on the wall (and write cute stories). i stare at napoli every day.
"did i ever tell you that album is simply fantastic? you know i was never a huge fan. but this album. because his voice rattles inside my body. it's the perfect album for motion. for travel. like rising and falling. listening on the trains. walking on the sidewalks in naples. and i watched the lovers. i watched the sea. i ate corn and sat on those rocks. i laughed out into the sea at all the bullshit that piled up. because i had let go. goddamnit i had let go. i was only full of love. and i watched all the people walking, fishing, driving wrecklessly, the men swimming out in the sea where i would never go for all my stupid fears. i felt the air on my skin. and i truly felt whole. i always feel strange when i listen to this album."
napoli is the main medium to capri. paolo and i had a terrible fight before i left for napoli. we thought it was over. on the day that i decided to call him and tell him i still loved him, i walked down to the beach. i bought a stick of corn and sat way out on the rocks. i watched the men swim. now that i am home, i stare at my maps on the wall (and write cute stories). i stare at napoli every day.
"did i ever tell you that album is simply fantastic? you know i was never a huge fan. but this album. because his voice rattles inside my body. it's the perfect album for motion. for travel. like rising and falling. listening on the trains. walking on the sidewalks in naples. and i watched the lovers. i watched the sea. i ate corn and sat on those rocks. i laughed out into the sea at all the bullshit that piled up. because i had let go. goddamnit i had let go. i was only full of love. and i watched all the people walking, fishing, driving wrecklessly, the men swimming out in the sea where i would never go for all my stupid fears. i felt the air on my skin. and i truly felt whole. i always feel strange when i listen to this album."
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