No hay espacio más ancho que el dolor, There is no space wider than that of grief, no hay universo como aquel que sangra. there is no universe like that which bleeds.
– Pablo Neruda
Writing with an economy of words, Neruda speaks the world.
The past week has existed under a vast heaviness of sadness and fury. And cotton-mouthed disbelief. Yet still, the living must eat. And move. A few rambling thoughts and images then, randomly connected. I received the drawing above in the mail today from a 7-year old friend in Berlin. I like that both rain clouds and bright sunshine are shown, both of which are needed in order for the apples to grow, which in turn the birds will eat. A sweet message inscribed into the side of an enormous sand dune that sits where the boardwalk used to be on Rockaway Beach. Shaved vegetables tumbled into a salad, peeling paint on the side of a wall under a railroad trestle, a tart Fall apple, a taco joint offering relief after a storm. One of the little boys killed in last Friday’s school massacre, Noah, adored tacos so much he wanted to work in a taco factory when he grew up (in order to ensure an everlasting supply). Visit Tacos for Noah to place your order for a virtual fish taco with shredded lettuce, fresh lime juice and lots of salsa verde – or any other taco you can dream up.