Category Archives: Digressions

¿Puede un beso hacer caer el mundo?

Marc Chagall: The Birthday

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February 22, 2007 · 6:16 pm

Memory, Perspective, and Something Bonito

Great Falls: Between the Canal's Toe Path and the Potomac River

One of my friends asked me this evening to write something “bonito” when I got home from work. Unfortunately, I am not particularly inspired just now. Nevertheless, I am quite interested in the relationship between memory and perspective — how each act of remembering is an independent experience unto itself, and how any given memory is an ongoing process that is transformed over time and is conditioned by one’s perspective (and vice versa). In other words, there are memories of memories of memories that evolve, decay, or mold into one apparently constant memory. This is much like the way that our physical exterior follows a degree of constancy of form over time, while in reality its actual cellular make-up is in continuous flux. We think of an ever-changing remembrance as one single memory just as we think of a person’s life-span as belonging to one distinct individual.

While I have been working on various pieces related to these topics, instead of posting something fairly unfinished, I decided to post these beautiful lyrics from this song by Lyle Lovett that touch on memory and perspective:

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More Than This

This is one of my favorite two scenes from the film Lost in Translation where Bill Murry sings “More Than This”. My guess is that Sofia Coppolla put in the karaoke scenes as space fillers because the movie was rather short. Nevertheless, I think that the scene defines the film. I love the subtle complicity between two people who are just getting to know each other, and how at that moment (and so true always of the present), more than this, there is nothing. In any event, my other favorite one is where Murry is lying on the bed with Scarlett Johanssen and tells her, “I am not worried about you.”

Alright, time to start doing something productive with my Saturday.

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Love and Affection

On this Saturday morning, I woke up at 8:30am, and while alternating between Amin Maalouf’s Rock of Tanois and writing in this wretched blog, I was reminded of a Saturday morning in November back in the 90s. It was a typical autumn morning in Washington, DC, and the air was crisp. I had all of the windows of my apartment open and was thoroughly cleaning the place. I am not sure whether that day has or had any significance whatsoever, but for some reason whenever I listen to Joan Armatrading, I always have the unclear memory of open windows and the DC fall in my mind.

I am certain that I had been listening to Joan Armatrading (as well as certain other music) on that day. Sometimes I remember that day as sunny, and at other times as overcast. But, generally, it is listening to Joan that reminds me of that seemingly insignificant day, whereas now I am recalling that day and being reminded of Joan Armatrading. Does that make any sense?

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Under the Milky Way

Back in 1990 during my first year in college when I was living in the dorms, there was this dorky, awkward kid from South Dakota who lived across the hall from me. I don’t remember much about him, except for the fact that he was always talking about Watertown and listening to the The Church. For some strange reason, people are always confessing their problems to me and asking for my unsolicited advice. Over the past couple years whenever they do so, I always think of a few lines from The Church’s “Under the Milky Way”,

I wish I knew what you were looking for
I might have known what you would find

Besides that fact that I am often sought after for this “unsolicited” and un-compensated counsel, no one ever actually follows the advice that I give them. In any event, here is my abridged story:

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Temptation

I have been thinking about a friend of mine (let’s call him “Alfie”) who is going through a tough time because he is breaking up with his girlfriend after five years of dating (and for the past year maintaining a long distance relationship). And of course, it is his decision, so she is having an even harder time. I have been working very hard to have compassion for them both, but I suppose, I am just at an age where these matters do not seem as important as they once did when I was younger. Here are my feelings on the matter:

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Unfortunately

Unfortunately, I am a much better public speaker than I am a lawyer. Unfortunately, I am not THAT funny and surely not funny enough to make a living doing stand-up. Unfortunately, what I really love to do most is to find ways to express myself through words (public speaking or writing), but I am only pleasant to read or listen to in small doses. Unfortunately, I am fairly shy one on one, but very outgoing when in front of a crowd. Unfortunately, orgies aren’t my thing. Unfortunately, at my age, I still quite haven’t found a place professionally to fully satisfy my “expressive” needs. But, fortunately, I do have a place where I am building something with others and having some fun.

Soon to come are the videos from the FON One Year Anniversary Party, where as seen in the picture (thanks to Teo), I was able to moderate and do a little public speaking. Unfortunately, I am definitely not photogenic and end up looking more of a blurry geek, poser than what I really am.

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Medina Flight

I just ran across this excellent video that takes the viewer through the medinas of Fez and Marrakech.

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Balancing Words and Sound

Van Gogh: Gaugin's Chair

Since finishing The Idiot on January 2, I have since read Naguib Mahfouz’s Midaq Alley, Amin Maalouf’s Samarkand, Paul Bowles’ The Spider’s House, and The Last Friend, and on Tuesday night I began Amos Oz’s Fima. Yesterday, I just got a package from Amazon with two more books from Maalouf and another from Mahfouz.

Now, I am in a phase where I just can’t stop reading (mainly novels written by or about the Arab world). The problem is that I have trouble striking a balance between my passion for reading and my passion for music. And I can’t do both at the same time. When I listen to music, I can’t concentrate on reading. Furthermore, since Christmas, I have also purchased the following music:

Sam Rivers: Counters; Blue Mitchell: Things to Do; Carole King: Really Rosie; Dee Dee Warwick: I Want to Be with You; Terry Callier: Speak Your Peace; Johnny Cash: Walk the Line; Eric Dolphy: Out There, Last Date, and Outward Bound; Duke Ellington: Black, Brown and Beige, and Such Sweet Thunder; John Coltrane: The Complete Africa/Brass Sessions, The Complete 1961 Village Vanguard Sessions Live, and Coltrane Live at Birdland; The Jazz Renegades: Freedom Samba; and Charles Mingus: The Great Concert of Charles Mingus.

It’s difficult to take advantage of the investment in words and sound all at once, and yet I don’t have the patience to stop surfing Amazon.

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My name is Iñigo Montoya

Have you ever seen The Princess Bride? This is a pretty funny movie that first came out back in 1987. There are a couple of hysterical and memorable lines including the repetition of the sentence, “My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die.”

Strangely enough, on my way home from work this evening, I walked past a day care center where two kids jumped out into the street play fighting with swords made from balloons. One of them stopped suddenly, looked at the other one in the face, and said in Spanish, “Me llamo Iñigo Montoya, mataste a mi padre, preparate para morir.” I thought this was just too much. It is nice to see that something that made me laugh 20 years ago in a different contintent is making kids laugh today here in Spain.

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