DEPARTURES

"The taste of the apple...lies in the contact of the fruit with the palate, not in the fruit itself; in a similar way ...poetry lies in the meeting of the poem and reader, not in the lines and symbols printed on the pages of a book.What is essential is the aesthetic act, the trill , the almost physical emotion that comes with each reading"
Jorge Luis Borges (Selected Poems 1923-1967)

In the same way, home is not made by the spaces only, but by te memories, the smells, the way of doing one thing together...is not the retinal memory but the whole compendium of sensations, feelings and thought that give meaning to the term.

Once when I was little, my aunt said my hair smelled like "mamita's hair" (her grand mother, my grand grand other) and she loved to bring that memory back.How was that possible?...shampoo was not something that existed then, in the mountains...maybe it was just sweat but I was always glad to hear that comment.. glad that a part of  me could recall that mythical figure.

When thinking of departure, many faces and moments come to our minds...and many questions with it.
 I have always had a particular reaction when meeting someone that eventually becomes a good friend,as if i could recognize that soul.Rejections or indifference works just the same...and no explanations necessary...

But when someone is not a friend, I struggle...that is an very  exceptional, very rare.. moment, .and when I recognize it I want to own it, and for good or for bad I drop my shield and let myself go.
'It is not the apple... but the contact with the palate', it is not the subject but  but the flawless and irrational connection it brings with it...as if souls could finally see, hearts were finally filled..and words were not necessary...

But the mind always misgive, unable to understand...and things crumble. For humans explanations are necessary,and patience a virtue I don't have.

When I say goodbye this time, in silence,  I wonder if I lost  that chance, if distance will make us closer or apart.I think of the city, and the new places, the new smells, the different light, the plants, the seasons, and the people...'what are cities but people'

I have no answers and no patience yet, but will try to find both in the way, while I let things flow naturally to find their place and I hope to find my own.