reading Las gaviotas

o but this is not an elegy. I am glad I read about the trees first.What a lovely solstice present.
It was so hopeful! I too want to go there! Really. I would like to be immersed in a culture who is trying. To live with people who play music. To invent things that would help. To honor the trees and the life which has grown with them. It is remarkable indeed that this green world is existing inside the country whose notion I had of guerilla_US Drug cartel world police force violencia. As if just because it can.
often i return home disgruntled. after reading Las Gaviotas I had insight as to why.
It is driving around Albuquerque that does it. The alienation. Makes me irritable and lonely.
So contrary is the story of what can happen if whole communities come together and look for other ways. maybe it is the scale of the community also?

The elegy piece was full of grey scale and emotions unearthed with the trash heaps
denied. There is not much to say I think. I have from this the smell and feel of my home town and a particularly desolate piece of road that led to the dump.
I wanted to shoot rats there when I was little. But my mother wouldn't let me.

Now the rats I want to shoot are the demons that despise hope.
Who tell me that it will never be different than driving around Albuquerque looking for things that I 'need'


The first image that came when I googled elegy is this painting of a woman mourning over a pedestal_Greek column that has flowers twining around it. 'Elegy'by William-Adolphe Bouguereau

Interesting that her pedestal is sneakily be- flowered. As if even in lament we put forth something that we can live with .. after all.