I haven’t written since last week, but that’s not unlike me since I think more than I write, and I’m surprised to be doing this at all. I used to leave notes of thoughts everywhere, but it became too much. I’d find them here and there and get frustrated because I couldn’t keep up and I would lose them all over the place. I suppose at times it’s the actual act of writing that I enjoy, as well as the questions brought about by doing so.

Last week I was in Puerto Rico and had been spending a lot of time at different beaches… Tropical get away clear sandy ones; As well as spending time in trashed landscapes, sea glass filled rocky coastlines, and simple local overlooked/unnoticed patches of charcoal-brown sand and bluish-green salted waters. I enjoyed all of them! (Even the one occasion where I had to toss out six cans of “Coors Light” beer that I found by my feet.) Which reminds me, yesterday I was out at a lake party with Kim and I was on the swings and had gotten dizzy, and of course I eventually left, but more due to the fact that two girls half my age started swinging too. I wonder how water can leave one feeling so empty when consumed by it. I recall Freud expressing his thoughts on the matter, using words like Oceanic Sublime and questioning one’s significance when confronted with something so Vast and greater than oneself. I spent much of today with headaches and reflecting over M Theory and Parallel Dimensions/Multiverse. (These are things that I cannot speak of with most people; The last time was at my cousin’s poker game, but they were all WPI engineers. We had great conversations about the Anunnaki, Planet X, government policies, and the possibility of the Universal.)

You know, Harvey Pekar passed away about a week ago. The first time I had heard of him was through Darryl Ayo. He was obsessed with making it on time for the opening and we were hauling ass just to get there, (Lol) we were the first to make it to the Little Theatre. That’s how I had found out about American Splendor, before I had ever even heard of Daniel Clowes. (I was never really into comics much, except for a little mainstream stuff when I was a kid.) Until Ayo got me into seeing it all from behind the scenes, he told me “All real comics people hate Roy Lichtenstein.”

PR has such tasty food, but my current mood doesn’t allow me to even begin to try and express how great it all tastes because it’s not like you’d be able to savor the moment. And food, like aesthetics can be quite simply dependent on something better left to experience. Maybe you don’t even like certain types of food, so It’d be even less of a reason to read about it; I just know it was really good!

While I was driving home from the beach I got stuck in a LONG line of traffic, there was a dead body lying next to a Mercedes on the cement pavement in the Guayama area gas station. The news the next day was that it was a drug deal gone wrong. The guy was supposed to drop off the money at “Un Punto,” but he unwisely decided to take off with the money himself. (The drug dealers had someone watching him the whole time.)

I hope that mankind can balance technology and modernization in the future with open-mindedness towards the diversity of national cultures and the notion of a Universal society. (I guess people should watch movies more often, even if just to have an impression of Imagination for two hours.)

July 12th, 2010 As expected, my writings will always be scattered across here and there, especially while traveling. (Limited internet access and sporadic events.)

Much has happened through out the last few days...

For one, ESPAÑA won the world cup yesterday for the first time in history! Which means much of Spain, Puerto Rico, and Latin countries took off today in celebration. The first half was less well played than the second in my opinion, but it was a great game. Many yellow cards were called in play, but that was expected for the finals. In any case, the Netherlands were equal opponents, it's fair to say if another game were to be played, it could easily go the other way.

Spontaneity. I was lying in in bed when an unexpected knock came at the door around nine in the morning, "Who's there!?!?" It turns out family friends who I didn't know had heard I was in the area and stopped by to my surprise while looking for Fecca/Felipe. (We never found him.) I looked outside and saw an eight-person boat parked down the road, it didn't take long for me to roll out of bed and into my sandals!

Aguirre surprisingly has beautiful secret beaches; Claudio had once taken me there (Snorkeling) when I was sixteen so I knew what was to come, which made me even more excited. I helped drive the truck and set the boat into the water, it was a Beautiful day. The water was choppy at times so it was like speed racer and rocket launching all at once. We sat in the sun for a few hours, I caught some black spotted red and orange tropical fish while using a very simple tube with line wrapped around it. It was amazing to see the shore from the other side, it helps set into context the family stories I hear of early beginnings.

We traveled to a few small islands and eventually anchored in a local tourist spot. (People come from all over PR and Internationally.) What can I say, the water was clear and sparkling, and people were listening to music and just having a great time! It was much different than the Pozuelo beach I visited this week.

A lot of Puerto Rico has a third world country/lost industrialization aesthetic, but it also has sublime views and vibrant energy. I love the architecture here, it reminds me of the Bauhaus combined with certain elements from France and Spain. (Ornate iron fences and Caribbean colors set against gardens.) I daydream of communities to be built in the idea of function, conceptual layout, and alternative energy. I question why Africa's infrastructure has yet to reach it's potential, and I'm in awe of the way Puerto Rican homes use plastic piping to irrigate house hold water to outside plants; So simple and effective.

I want nothing more than to take all of the colors here with me.

The people here are so helpful and friendly, I'm always met with a casual smile and coffee by neighbors. The local kids I've become friends with over the years are constantly looking for me and asking me all about NYC and if it's true that Asian people live there. (Lol, So many innocent questions.) I find myself playing pool and dominoes on many late weeknds. The air is different here, and I can always find the candy store from down the street open at eleven at night. People have a slow casual way of doing things, and I really like it. I enjoy the coffee and everything around me that I cannot see but know is there.

Today I ended up visiting the cemetery, Felix and my grandmother are buried there. The coffins always sit ABOVE the ground mostly due to what I imagine is the water table. One of my earliest memories is of carefully playing with rocks set upon a grave... It's a Beautiful place. I came across a few children's coffins with toys set atop of their gravestones, which is always unsettling. My father was there and showed me his cousin's marker who passed away when she was ten, no one knew the illness she had. My grandfather is buried there somewhere, mysteriously lost by an unmarked and forgotten marker. (I know it doesn't really make sense, but it's true.)

There are a few things that are just completely different here than back in the U.S. I already talked about the showers... BUGS! I swear, seeing ants crawl here and there is like my breathing of air, it's just natural! Local fruit and organic food here is great, but I find imports always sketchy. Boxes and containers are commonly found in aisles warped and dinged. (At least that is my experience; the more you go out to the cities the better quality, but this description holds true to the suburbs.) My cereal is constantly turning stale and ants always find your sugar, even at times in the refrigerator. Homemade/Local food is amazing! (I'll write more about that later.)

Today was particularly surprising because a knock at the door revealed an older cousin who everyone believed to have passed away after disappearing. I hadn't seen Will since my early teens, memories resurfaced as I reminded him about the Atari and case of cartridge games he had once given me. I always enjoyed our conversations; he's a very intelligent individual and knows a lot about computers and electronics. (He has always been into inventing and modifying useful technology.) We sat in the living room talking for a good while about alternative energy, the government, time machines, and a water powered car that he's been working on...

I have been in Puerto Rico for almost two weeks now, but I hardly feel as though I am here at all. As soon as this all settles and becomes my reality, it will be time to leave. Everything will fade away for sometime, until my next encounter.

I've lived here from time to time since the age of thirteen; one of my earliest memories is of walking to the American school around the age of four. Held by my mother's hand, down the street from where I sit now... we were told that there was "no school today." (As I remember, it was Fecca who told us.)

One of the most refreshing things to do in a humid country like this, especially in a place like Central Aguirre, is to take a shower. (Usually 2, sometimes 3 times a day.) It took me a while to adjust once again to the faucet that runs one type of water. (As I constantly would reach and turn the left handle with no success.)

The water is best at night after a long humid day; some would describe it as "Dulce," as it overcomes your body. During the morning hours it is warmed by the sun, but take a shower in the midst of rain and it will most likely feel like jumping into an ice stream. There are things here that are so different from NYC and Worcester. Every night is filled with the calls of indigenous Coqui frogs that live outside my window. I hear my iguana friend ruffling in the leaves of the tree, and the constant blowing of the fan that I sometimes wake up and turn off in the middle of the night. The chickens call to the morning sun and the "skylight hole" in the ceiling brings light to my eyes around 5:45 as I lazily toss a pillow over my head. One can constantly hear the neighbor's activities, music being played, and dogs barking. You can really be left alone with your own thoughts in a place like this.

It's difficult to capture the light here in an image, so I sometimes don't bother at all, you simply can't take everything with you. The smell of the air and shape of the light become Memories. I am visiting with two family members, so perhaps that is why I feel different. (I am usually here alone for over three months at a time; I suppose I have Rochester and an MFA on my mind as well.)

I know one thing that has always somewhat troubled me for sometime, after reading my friend's writings, it comes to mind even stronger. I never get home sick.

I believe in "See you later..." I hate goodbyes... I just go. Here. There. Everywhere.

I figure, one of the worst and easiest things that could happen to me is death, so what's the worst that could happen? (That's how I got to NYC.) Perhaps I take for granted at times the few people around me, but as I do think about losing them, the thoughts become almost paralyzing. I really do enjoy spending time with my family, even if I tend to mostly live alone and apart from their understanding when it comes to certain views and decisions in my life. But that's OK because I know they care about me.