Erinnerung an die Marie A.

I recently watched "The Lives of Others". While watching it something very strange happened: I found a bridge to my past.

I have a cousin who sings. She has a beautiful voice and plays about every instrument imaginable. She encouraged me to play while growing up, and along the way I did. The piano, the sax, harmonica, bass guitar, guitar. I was surrounded by music. One time she made a demo tape. I had it at home and played it often. I didn't know the songs, but I started learning them. That's how I discovered "The Rose" and "River". That's how I discovered blues and gospel.

But up until that moment in "The Lives of Others", I had completely forgotten about that one song I used to sing. Up until that moment. One of the main characters lays on a couch and reads from a Bertolt Brech book. He was reading a poem in German. I was reading the English. And still, I remembered the Spanish:

Fue un día de un azul Septiembre cuando
Bajo la sombra de un ciruelo joven
Tuve a mi dulce amor entre los brazos
Como se tiene a un sueño calmo y suave
Y en el hermoso cielo de verano
Sobre nosotros, se posó una nube
Era una nube altísima y muy blanca
Cuando volví a mirarla, ya no estaba

Pasaron desde entonces muchas nubes
Navegando despacio por el cielo
A los ciruelos les llegó la tala
Y me preguntas, que fue de aquel amor
Debo decirte que ya no lo recuerdo
Y sin embargo entiendo tus palabras
Pero ya no me acuerdo de su cara
Y sólo se que un día, lo bese
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Little research showed me the original. And although I didn't know the source of this song, this poem, up until that moment, exactly at that moment, I got a little piece of myself back.

I don't believe in Sundays

This used to be my Argentine blog. I used to write here from my friends and family in Argentina to be able to have an idea of what's going on with me. After a while, I realized that none of them really knew what a blog is, or what I was talking about. For a while there, I just wrote for myself. For the sake of putting it out there. Felt good.

Now I find myself missing a time when I had something to write about, or the will to write about nothing. I figured I'd give it another shot. But this time, in a different language. I wanted to keep my old posts, though. It's part of my history now.

I thought about some words for a while, to make myself understand what I'm doing. I thought about the word reinventing. Reinventing? But if it's "re" is it really "inventing"? I thought about contradictory words. I thought about change and about time. I thought about my nature, our nature. I thought about motivation, and goals. I thought about words. I thought I'd put some down here in the time to come.