Squint

It began with a blinding day and that's where it all started going wrong.
How often have I changed your mind? Oversize canvas bag slung over shoulder and rested upon a hip. Who's going to break the fall when the stars have slipped. The path of least resistance is catching up. Stutter stops the heart again. I wish I could wake up beside you. Let's go back to the start. Science and progress do not speak louder than the heart.

The second hand speeds up to catch up to the seconds. Through tinted windows there are odd shadows. She watches me move and I can't think straight. How often have you changed your mind? Your emotions echo across the space between us. A strong hand reaches over to give support. Wild hair curls around fingertips. Snail slouching whispers where rain has gathered. Nicks against the grain, initials carved in.

¿Que te importe que te ame, si tu no me quieres ya? Spinning words to find the proper sequence of events. Time is neither linear nor circular. Your departure has left careless marks against my questions. Apologies cannot erase being viciously unkind so I squint my eyes when I face the sky.


All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

04.19.09 v2

I find academic writing restricting to the point where I find myself closing in on myself. Although, I've taught undergraduates how to write research papers in the past, as I go through the process I find myself scattering my energies and my ideas across the sand. How do I reign it in? What was my initial point?

I'm writing this blog because I needed a break...I take it too seriously. Instead, I should laugh about it...it's only a 15 page paper. I mere drop in the ocean of writing. So now I am playing 80s music to loosen my grip. The Police is singing "Don't Stand So Close to Me" in the background. Appropriate enough since I may bite someone if they ask me how far along I am again. At least, I don't want to cry, so that's a good sign. Oooo Peter Cetera popped up and I'm going to wail along to "Glory of Love." I know it's cheesy...but cheesy is good on stupid working sundays. Trying to wrangle the right passages...trying to make the appropriate analysis so I sound like I know what the hell I'm talking about pertaining to Derek Walcott's epic poem Omeros.

It's a beautiful piece. I actually like writing about how classical western literature is used in his work. But then the self doubt creeps in and I second guess my train of thought. Seriously, it's not hard...I am making it so much harder than it needs to be. Besides, it's not James Joyce's Ulysses. Now that book and those papers almost broke me last year. Hehehe. Those papers made me cry real tears of self-pity. I wore my pity-party dress and everything.

Ooo "I Just Died in Your Arms" by Cutting Crew popped up. This is taking me back to high school, driving over the Brooklyn Bridge at night in R's car, and both of us singing at full voice.
Paul Simon and Chevy Chase singing "You Can Call Al"...it's a fun song as I hop around my room to the beat. Hehehe. Okay I'm starting to feel sane again listening to these songs. : )

It's 6:23 pm and I have quite a bit of work ahead of me. Hmmm. Do I listen to more music or do I try to make more of a dent in this paper? There is, of course, other assignments that I should also finish. Perhaps I should address my other deadlines? Not to mention the reports I need to write up for my post in the WAC office...argh! When did I get so behind? It's amazing that I could be the most organized person for someone else but try to do that for myself and I let things slide...unintentionally of course but dammit if that's not the most frustrating thing.

Oooo I feel the stress creeping up again. I think I am going to avoid my paper for another hour and write up some of these reports. Seriously....it's an icky feeling --That's the scientific term for wanting to throw up all over my keyboard from the stress of writing this paper.

Nightshift by the Commodores....okay now that's going way back...but ooooh eeee. Groovy tunes. "Gonna be some sweet sound coming down..."

Off I go...

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.

04.19.09

A paradigm shift betrays internal itineraries. The house felt empty with teeth. In dreams flowers grew long stems through an icy lake. Out of the thorns, calla lilies unfold. Lost in the ashes of time, cut space into the wider shadows. The veils sweep gently against the floor bathed in blue light.

All artwork, photos, and text © Copyright 2008-2009 Liliana Almendarez unless indicated otherwise. All Rights Reserved. Any downloading, copying or use of images on this website is strictly prohibited without express written consent by Liliana Almendarez.