“A dream is a poem the body writes.” — Sandra Cisneros, Caramelo
I watched a city with over 430,000 trees unfold before me. Routines are similar everywhere, a perspective of work and not-work. Apartment windows half covered with homemade lace curtains watched the moving shadows of satellite dishes and geraniums. The distance between expressions measured the speed of progress, a perspective of choice and learned leisure. I believe all those colorful thoughts were earnest and almost always sincere. The old maps are still in people’s minds, was a tension to move forward or remain. It was comforting to witness the efficiency of such intent.
Sandra Cisneros captured the essence of being so far away from home: “hotel rooms were filled with memories of other bodies.” A reminder of the way our bodies arch to say please and then thank you.