Tuesday, August 24, 2004


As you can guess by my posts lately, am going through a moment of reflexion.

A time of questioning my recent years. A time of looking at my future in the eyes and trying to decide if what I see is what I want.

A time of chills, more than fear. A time of goosepimples, of sitting on the floor in a corner, watching cars and people pass by.

Also a time of living my emotions openly, passionately. Haven't finally talked about Valencia, but Eva became conscious there and then of how I am changing. She hasn't known me long enough to recognize what this means. Patricia would immediately, should she read this some day. Marta and Isabel are aware of what's going on, but not to what extent, and Mary-Anne may recognize my days of Nietzsche and Bataille* and the influence of Dionysos in my everyday life...

Am transported somehow to 1991. The year I found out about my megaprolactinoma. The year I used to walk the streets for hours looking up into the sky, and learnt to find my way through the city according to the roofs and tops of buildings, instead of by the shops on street level...

It's weird. Really.


Suddenly started meeting people I had close contact with in that year -or 1990-92- ...and hadn't seen since. This was after starting to realize what I was feeling. I have this vision of all the masks I've had to wear one on top of another, to gradually become the secretary I am now, melting and bringing the fresh air back to me... but then what???!!!

Had my palms read for the first time in my life, someone trustworthy, and the things she said also carried me there. She talked about how much there is hidden in me, of how specially emotive and passionate I am, and even so how little I hide it... but how I hide my personality and my gifts, how I am not using my intelligence or my creativity enough, and what it is doing to the inner me.

I might talk more about this in a future post. The subject is now this. My re-enacting 1991.

Or shall it be the beguinning of a new cycle?

What does 1991 mean to me? Besides a beautiful number, it's the year I finished University and believed that I was officially a philosopher. I mean, when you finish Psychology you're supposed to be a psychologist, aren't you?

T'was the year I started serious clubbing, too, moving among The Fashionable Ones and having crowds being parted to let me in to certain clubs or discos.

T'was the year I fell in love with Bernard. My son's father. The person who has changed my life in so many ways, for good and for bad...

T'was when I started getting involved with designers, djs, etc and had my performance group, was gogo dancing, was posing for my photographer friends and other artists...

T'was before I had to wash the stars out of my eyes and conform with society.

The only Apolo that I was close to was the disco I went to every weekend... while Dyonisos was the clue to many of my moods and outburst -of laughter, of love, of fear, of dance, of work...

Talking about Nietzsche is always dangerous. Too much nazi connotations for some. Its like blaming Wagner -not the brazilian one, Mary Anne!!!

Am talking really of the Dyonisos connection. See Nietzsche : A Dionysus-Dithyrambs

*Thought -for those who already know Bataille- that this link would be better: Georges Bataille


Anonymous said...

One of the results is going over and over my relationship with B., the good parts and the bad, and feeling the loss.

Can still not believe he shall never be the man he used to be. He used to be my Northern Star. Now I hide from him. @#$%.