People don’t always see things in the same light. Reactions will differ, from something to nothing at all. Even in seeing a blade of grass. The same blade of grass in a sea of millions of other blades, an observer might ask: why are you looking at that blade of grass? -singular, like yourself. – And if you choose to answer them they still may not understand. You simply have to move on.
En un barrio de Santiago, Chile, que conozco bien, la madrugada amanece un poco antes de levantar el sol. El nogal enfrente, muriendo de la sequedad de esta zona es símbolo del cambio de clima y de la escasez de agua. Todos los árboles del jardín están perdiendo hojas y fruta. Pero a pesar de lo negativo que ocurre, en esta foto, una belleza y soledad tremendas se capturan en el cielo colorado, salpicado de nubes grises, y la silueta de las montañas en el fondo, llama la atención a uno de lo bueno que significa sentir el latido del corazón.
Four years ago today, February 8th, of 2016, out in a storm with my niece and nephew, Virginia and Diego Bravo, we came upon a sanctuary of crystal. The land was enveloped in snow. For my friends, being in a snowstorm was an exhilarating experience, and for me too, but something special for them, because they come from a place where there are no storms, such as this. I wrote on that day:
Wonderland! A small lake on the trail of Mansfield Hollow Dam. Went out in the middle of the snowstorm. We could hear the sound of branches breaking off the trees, and saw them falling, to the ground. We were wary of what might fall on us, from above. Manna, maybe.
Been going to Chile, for a long time. Believe it or not, I hold a sort of love hate relationship with this country. A place I hold near and dear, for many reasons, but truthfully I remain affected by the injustices I’ve seen, the stratification of society, and the patience of the ‘have nots.’ Having the advantage of growing up in a wealthy country vastly opens my eyes to the inconveniences one encounters. It may consist of the simple matter of the quality of the tooth paste or the dish soap, which just doesn’t seem to lather up. It may be the broken down condition of appliances, and just plain lower quality and inefficiency, the absence of, for which we take for granted in the U.S. But to make up for these annoying and frustrating details, there is something in the everyday, working class people, and the value they have for life that makes all the rest unimportant. I hope these few pictures here will convey the layers of dissent, sadness, solitude, love, and giving that I encountered by simply walking down the streets of a town like Talca.