My Grandmother

I don't remember meeting her, the only thing I have from her is a claddagh ring and a paper she wrote in high school. After reading it I feel like we would have been really close. She is a remarkable woman, and I'm so glad we're related.

"Somethings there are that I love. I can't touch them with my mind, but I can feel them with my heart. They are warm and moving...they are situations, sights and scents; somethings there are that I love-Park Avenue, as it runs through Harlem, with its profusion of color and its cosmopolitan odor; icy fingers clutching roasted chestnuts bought from a vendor on a street corner; ...flowers from Central Park -across-the-street, planted in a glass on the window sill; ...the feel of Grandma's magic hand that caught the lizard in Italy; the rhythm in Daddy's movements as he danced me to sleep after his own hectic day at work; ...Momma singing "Cuban Lullaby" as she put me to bed; ...Patsy-the-pizza-seller on Third Avenue; the adventure of sleeping on the fire-escape on 'muggy' nights-These things I remember, and I love. These memories are personal yet public-"public" in the sense of people and places; public, as well, in the universality of ones emotions upon remembering the past- ones own small world gone forever, but ever present.
Bigger things there are that I love - the stillness of the earth before a storm - the voices of the people hushed in expectation; ...the wind blowing wildly along the beach at the end of the day; black trees silhouetted against a red sky; ...the force and strength of thunder and lightning; ...the sound of a train whistle in the distance on a foggy night; ...a walk through the ever enveloping fog which creates and aura of mystic beauty; ...the waltz theme from "Carousel" when I'm alone; ...cuddling a small child whose tiny face is withered in returning smiles; ...a puppy's wet nose against my cheek; ...these things I love.
Crying over written words; ...laughing over Dad's exaggerated Andalusion tales; ...the tranquility of the house of God as I kneel in prayer; ...that inexplicable great-to-be-alive feeling I get without logical or practical reason; ...the awe I feel at the sight of a Renaissance painting or at the breath catching sound of Chopin's music; ...the "near-bursting" sensation I get when someone lives up to my idealistic standards; ...all these things I love; and what is more, these are the things that will never disappear or vanish, for they are ever present in some unaccountable, unknown recess of my being. "

-Mariangela Villegas

Neighbors

"I had a dream that you got a tattoo and I said it was ugly, then you and your sister beat me up."

"Oh my gosh! That's ridiculous..I would never get an ugly tattoo.."

By your side, whenever you fall

When the crutch that holds you up crumbles, then what?

Where do you go from there?

She's gone right now

..But she'll be back.

Wake Up

I have a lot on my mind. I just feel like writing. Or talking. Or even just sleeping..

Shark Week.

Worst week of the year. JJ doesn't make it any better.

Thanks Shmay!