Happy Chilean Independence Day!

I’ve decided that my eye infection and cold are a blessing in disguise because though I’m missing two fondas (parties) tonight, I’m enjoying writing and trying to figure out how to make my blog look cool.

A couple of Sunday’s ago, my roommate Caitlin, her friend Mari and I took the bus to Valparaiso, a coastal city that reminded me of what I imagined Tuscany or Greece would be like, with a hint of San Francisco, too.

I felt lucky to be traveling with intelligent and strong women like Caitlin and Mari—poetic souls who aren’t afraid to take on any city. They remind me of how I was when I graduated college: open-hearted and excited by everything that life might have in store.

They seemed to breathe in Valparaiso so eagerly and so I tagged along and tried to match their amazing enthusiasm—the orange house on the hill was dazzling,

the lunchtime view and meal were perfect,

the murals all over the city captured our attention for hours,

and the Valparaisans and their Mil de Hojas flavored ice cream were divine (Mil de Hojas is now my favorite flavor). (Ice cream not pictured because I ate all of it)

I felt inspired in the same way I was inspired when I heard that Pablo Neruda was a cosista (thing-ist) and would collect things just for the pure love of them: watermelons, ship figureheads, colored glass eggs, dishes, masks—all for their shape, size, color, texture, form, and sound. It made me want to love things for the sake of their beauty, for the sake of loving them, without a monetary value attached to it, without worrying if I could afford it, without worrying if this counted as a depreciating asset (haha, I really don’t think that, but still, I’m sure some people in the world worry about that). Anyway, I digress. I'm just saying, it made me want to appreciate the world in a different way.

And Neruda reminded me of my poetry professor in college. I went to visit her home once and was so amazed at her decorations. She had covered every inch of every wall with paintings—oil, water color, acrylic, old, new, framed, canvassed, dirty, shiny, cracked, new. Forget the designer shows and their advice! It was a whole new way of viewing the world.

In the same way, I felt like I got to see Valparaiso in a different way, the poets’ journey. What a long way from copywriting about lumber! So I tried to write a poem today for the first time in ...has it really been seven years?

My first line was:

“My eye is fat because I looked at the city for too long…”

Ha ha ha. I just laughed and laughed! I think I’m out of practice and maybe a little less poetic and deep than I used to be.

I know you’re all holding your breath for the next line—this is gripping stuff!

Maybe I’ll write more serious things later. But for now, que te vayas bien.

C in C