…i’m leaving babe…

Journal, March 8, 2005…..leaving Rio tomorrow.

“She tried without success to see beyond.  To find the path leading
to the future, to their future.  But all was dark, cloudy, full of foggy
mist, tiny lights flitting in when she least expected it.
Lights leading to hope, hopes of a life constructed of dream upon
dream, until it walked in and bit her.  Knocked her in the head
with its head.

That’s what he used to do to introduce himself to someone new,
when he was young… and a few passed out.  She hadn’t passed out,
but Lordy, he surely took her breath away.

She remembered her darling Carrie, who in the last episode
(Sex and the City), had said something wonderful, something so
her feelings…
“I believe in Love, inconvenient, all encompassing, can’t live
without it Love”

And now she’d found it, dreamed it, created it, and it completely
overwhelmed her.  It’s power, the knowledge that no other man
could ever again walk into her life and possess her the way he did…
this one man.
He was the love of her life truly, and the swept away feet off the
ground, the heart over head of it creating waves of pure emotion
without name.   And he had made it clear that it was mutual.

It was completely new territory, another universe, their own world.
.. Wasn’t that what he had said in that first poem….

“Meet me in a timeless world where we can be ourselves.
Where we are who we are..where I can be a true man who’s capable
to love a real woman, without limitations, without lies…
Free to become the most of our possibilities…”…”

 

The Present, May 2012… the story continues…

Reading this journal entry now makes me very sad…
sad for that girl there, the one with such overwhelming mind
stopping emotion and connection with this man.

At the same time, I feel such sadness at having lost it, for I do
love being in love, no matter how impossible it may be.
I believe in it.

The connection between us was real, and still is real.
I know it…he knows it.
He may have tried to move on, but the indelible sting of the
connection between us does not wash away, no matter the effort,
no matter the turning away, no matter what kind of elements you
may try to use, to dissolve away the stain.
Love is like grapejuice stains on the heart…

It’s something in this lifetime that doesn’t get to play out here,
on this particular plane of existence.
Too much territory to cover to get us to a place where who and
what we want is baked long enough and ready for consumption.

But… I think I’ve said this before… I do believe in other realities,
other dimensions, simultaneous places that we sometimes visit in
our dreams, or even at moments where this reality and the other
sort of cross wires, and things bleed through.
Strangely, I almost never dream of him.  And that’s odd, because
I have quite vivid and emotional dreams with other people with
whom I have deep connections.

But there was a magic to the entire thing, with loud and blaring signs
of breaking through the illusion, those signs of that Jungian Web thing,
where everything’s connected, timings, words, clicks,
and simultaneous thought.

These things happened from day one, and although I have pushed
much of the joy and pain altogether, out of my day to day, still
when I review things like I must in order to write this story…..
still there are wellings up, waves of memory of what might have been,
what could be somewhere, sometime, somehow, in another life.

Soul connections, mapped out long before we got here, work to be
done, energies to be shared, knowledge to keep.

We tasted paradise, we drank it in, we cradled it to our hearts, and
we will never be the same because of it.
And isn’t that just great…. and can’t that be enough?

 

 

… first journal entry of 2005 …

I’ve been thinking about how I got into Brasil, how much the world
has opened up to me since Alcir first stepped into my life.

After him, it was the music first, that caught me.  I would hear a
voice like his, hear that accent.  That music station I found that
played global fusion jazz stuff, where I first heard Djavan.
The world beat program from Mendo, with Lilia, a Brasiliera.
The diversity of music blew me away…

The African beats, the syncopation, the many layered subtleties…
I’d never heard anything like it.  From there, of course the next
was the language.
I could hear the like-Spanish sounds, but again so many more levels
and intricacies … more like a combination of Spanish and French…
it tickled my ear, and brought back his memories… the sound
of his accent… so I got some Portuguese Language tapes, and
began understanding a little.

I began collecting CDs, and saw the faces of Brasil, understood the
cultural mix of Portuguese, gypsies in a way, having been on the sea for forever…the Latin feels… the Indigenous, from the Amazon with
their wild and savage ferocity and their forest sounds, and African
rhythms from the slaves they brought in and screwed.

I learned of the vastness and diversity of the country itself, noticing
programs on Brasil, the Rainforst, the Amazon, the abundance and
the pillaging of resources.
No one had ever taught me that Brasil is Bigger than the States!

I got a couple movies, after the Bravo Station TV showed me
‘ Dona Flora and Her Two Husbands’  (with Sonya Bragga),
‘Bye Bye Brasil’,
‘Xica do Silva’,
and of course Raoul Julia in ‘Kiss of the Spider Woman’.

Here he plays a Brasilian Revolutionary in a Sao Paolo prison.
He So reminded me of Alcir, so angry and discouraged, his young
ideals dashed like stormy waves on the rocks of reality….and
with Sonia Bragga as three different women: the real one,
the imagined one in the romantic story related  to him by his
gay cell mate, and the morphine dream one, well,
I immediately identified, and watched it more than several times.

In the scene where he is dreaming, after pain and morphine have
taken over, in that dream she comes into the hospital and whisks
him away to a small row boat… and she rows him out onto the water,
and although deeply in pain, he begins to relax… and she says:
“This dream is short, but it is happy”  …
well, the parallel was uncanny.

From there, it was Payakan, one leader of the Kayapo trying to
save their villages from the disasters of logging and gold mining…
and more CDs from the different areas and varieties of style.

Sting and Trudy, and the Rainforest Foundation…and then
The Djavan Concert !  that was maybe ’89 or ’90… took Piney and Lily,
danced shoulder to shoulder with a huge room of crazy Brasilians,
and grokked the energies for real.   Such a filling of knowing.

Met Piney in the city at a Brasilian nite club, and drank their fruity
Rum drinks, ate fried Yucca with hot salsa… I was hooked big time.

Oh The Feojoada!  I invited about 25 of my friends for a nite of the
whole real deal, with the many traditional dishes,
…and with Brasilian Movies, and Music playing in
the background all night.  It was a sensational success!
(it’s sort of like their version of Thanksgiving, but I discovered later
that because it is a meal based on African roots and foods… poor…
it is Not enjoyed by more Aristocratic Brasilians!)

The David Byrns compilations, and beginning to understand the
differences between the regions, Rio and Bahia, and all those
reflections in the music styles.
After a few years, I focused more on certain singers and composers,
especially Jobim, Caetano Veloso, Milton Nacimiento, Joao Gilberto,
and of course the old Samba stuff, both traditional street samba and
Bossa Nova, with Jobim, Joao and Stan Getz, from the sixties.
Terrific stuff.
Back in the sixties, I’d seen Brasil 66 at the Hollywood Bowl, with
no clue whatsoever on who they were at all.
Now I listened and Got it all.

**JAN 4th… by now Piney has offered me her Travel Miles, and I
have told him the news.  It’s really happening now.
Well…. he called tonite, and asked if I could call him back, because
his rates are so high there.  It was nice to have him call and miss me.

It seems he had a story to relate to me…  TWO of his exes came by
to see him at the same time, and after fighting with eachother
(scarey women), they Both turned on Him!
Ha ha ha…wish I could have watched!  Brasilian Novellas are
really really melodramatic and full of sound and fury.
So now he’s been drinking Vodka, and was very talkative and funny,
as well as rather philosophical.

He started talking about Colin Powell and Congoleeza, and said
he didn’t trust women who don’t have orgasms… which led to
having a hard on, which he called ‘a woodie’…. whereupon he said
“Oh, this isn’t a woodie…. this is Hardwood” and
so I added ‘tropical hardwood’… mmmmm!

He began reminiscing… “when I kissed you, I felt life.  I was Alive.
We found eachother in a very common way.
With you, I was fucking Life.
I was filling up myself with Life, I was mesmerized by you.
I was not amused with life at that time.

I am not the person I Am right now.
I’m just a regular Joe Drunk… I do nothing.  I don’ have to work,
I do drougs…
But with other weemen, they don’ add anythin’…
they take…I take…
a little piece of ass or sometheen… But…I’ve seen beyond.

Oh, I have a big hardon, where you can sit and make yourself
comfortable.   We’re just a couple of Sr Citizens….”

“NO!  I’m not a senior citizen!” I jumped in…

“I wouldn’t be fucking a Sr Citizen!” he laughed…
” I would be expecting a Boy Scout to come by an say ‘NO!…
you can’ Do that!…. oh here, can I help you across the street?’ ”

We were both laughing now.  He said his bottle of Vodka was
half empty, and with the talk about his cynicism, I chided him
with the old…  ” it’s half Full ” thing…
“Well,”  he said…”if we put you an me together, we have
a Whole Fucking Bottle!”

 

 

…the waiting begins…

Oh my, where was I?  I do leave this Tale of Love from time to time,
for a break in the effort, which is a little arduous, but don’t you find
you can’t wait for the next Chapter?  Good!
As I recall, I was having heart palpitations over the poem sent
to me from Brasil.
Passionate and completely mad, still my girlish heart had been
captured, and the desire to share swept over me til I drowned in it.
Girls just Have to share…

There was one person who could grok the moment, and that was
my daughter Piney.

I was living with her at the time, before, during and after she moved
into a new house in our area of Oregon, and she’d been kept abreast
of the goings-on with him.
She had known him during the times he visited me back in the eighties,
and was quite fond of him.  She found him funny, smart and playful,
and a rather exciting character to a kid.
Sort of like a real life Jack Sparrow, all dashing and full of tall tales
of courage and wild adventures… but not so much eye makeup…

It wasn’t long before I got an email from the little miss… who was
now a bit of an international, as her work (promotion for big companies) lead her to travel.

“Re:   sugar and spice and…GET OFF THE INTERNET!”  read the line,
so I did…
…but only after I read the note:

“hey mom,

trying to call you, you must be on line. give me a call when you
get this e-mail.
i have something to tell you…. something you’ll like….a lot.

love,
-pine”

What she had to tell me would now stop my breath as well…. Great…
now I can’t breath, And my heart has already stopped..

She had Tons of Miles to spare, and offered me a Ticket to Brasil…

Oh Good Grief.  Not only him, but Brasil too?  Completely Unreal.
Brain Overload, tape loops, wake up sweats…

So now the plans began, and I had Two Months to wrap up my life,
get ready for another reality, and of course…loose a few pounds…
I Am a girl after all.
He desperately wanted me to be there for his Birthday…Feb 14th…

He was ecstatic, I swung between several states of mind, but mostly
I worked on bringing my brain to the present, and …..
Just What was this Reality that I had called to myself…?

 

 

…the poem…

After our notes back and forth, I of course sent him my number, and
very soon he called.  I have no remembrance of what we talked of,
just that it was stoney, heady, transporting.

The next day I received this email:

“I will published tonight kisses

Alcir

……………………………

Carol  !


Hear your voice

Made me feel capable of

Fooling the time

Flying around in a dream

Returning to days when life was truthful

And love dare to defy

All mediocrity and nothingness.

That surrounds and kill

The beauty that we can create

When we are living in love !

 

Your words touched my days

Of loneliness and sarcasm

Of cynicism and doubter

Hear you brought me back to a time

When love was solemn

And ruled my believes.

I remembered your taste

And the perfumes of us

Together

As one.

 

Lovers of life

That discovered the fluorescence with in the movements

The beauty in the penetration of intimacy’s

The truth in the orgasm of souls.

I woke up to a dream

And I want desperately to live it as my life

I want you to be real

I  demand you to be the truth of my days

To be the soul that I never had

To be the light in my darkness

To be the love of my life.

 

 

Somebody to relay in the moments of doubt

A comfortable lap in the stormy nights

A truthful north in the dais of lost

A time of peace in a life at war.

Meet me in a timeless world

Were we can be ourselves

Were we are who we are

Were I can be a true man who’s capable to love

A real woman without limitations

Without lies

Free to become the most of our possibilities

Without the smallness

That these days

Impose to our lives.

 

 

I want blindly to be mesmerized

By your touch

By your mouth

By yours censes

By you coming

By your love

Be mine !

Alcir”

……………………….