Pico de Orizaba

Pico de Orizaba
Taken from Huatusco, Veracruz, the closest town to Margarita's family's ranch.

Sunday, June 19, 2011


Thinking about it, I'm not as crazy as I should be...  Thinking about what makes me feel alive and vital is what puts me on the edge, on the brink.  It's what makes me dance. When my body is in movement is when I am alive.  When my body moves spontaneously, you know it's happy.  When I started painting, I started dancing.  When I started dancing, I started believing in God.  I haven't danced in a very long time. But I still believe in God.  I danced in the kitchen.  I danced while drawing... the pencil in my hand, the point on the paper, my eyes on the drawing, my body upright, my feet moving...  For a second I danced while writing today.  Margarita's eyes lit up...

I realized I could dance in 1998.  Not long after, I met Vicky and I realized why they say, "A woman knows a man is good in bed by the way he dances."  Margarita doesn't like contact dancing, dirty dancing...  The one thing I don't do with her is dance... I embarrass her.  Almost two months ago, a young Mexican woman asked me, "would your wife allow you to dance with other women?" and I replied, "I wouldn't allow myself to dance with other women..."  You may say, "how square!" and I say, "no, dancing between a man and a woman is a sexual ritual... it's a courting."  The young Mexican woman was fishing.  She wanted to see if there were a chance I would dance with her.

I have eyes.  And I have a brain.  I would cut off my penus for my brain.  I'm not stupid.  But I wouldn't cut out my eyes.  She was a very attractive woman, with wirey muscles.  But, one dance isn't worth a lifetime.  That's why I didn't kiss Camile (was that Amber Eyes?)

Why marry if you will feel trapped? Dancing is vitality. Feeling their muscular and lythe bodies...

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