Song of the day

I have a friend since I was 17 years old. I didn’t like him/her at first… I thought we were different, but we were very much the same. He/She introduces me to technology, new software, natural walks, birding, floppy disks, and beautiful art and history.  We have several adventures together… from riding cars, watching movies, eating burgers and contemplating a sunset.

We both love sci-fi (STAR TREk and STAR WARS), and he introduces me to progressive music.  We watch Allan Parson Project in Panama with our partners many years ago and it was a very HAPPY DAY in my life!

We went camping and biking in national parks in Panama and we ate tortilla and puerco frito (Panamanian pork) en Azuero while waiting for the swell to be better for my longboard.

I still have some of the CDs and paintings he has given me over the years. Now we are apart because he is married with two kids, but he is one of my Yodas along with this incredible journey towards the stars.

Thank you THE ONE for all the wisdom you have given me over the years!
We have several angels along with our life that touch us for a reason, and it is great when we feel them, and we let them humbly act in our lives.

It is so important to have artists, poets, writers and well-educated people (engineers, doctors, teachers, scientists, permaculture experts) in this new arising ECOTOPIA.  We used to be depressed and sad by the injustices of the world… but Mother Nature has always control and today is reclaiming her space.




Gracias Miss Albania

Hoy conocí a uno de esos ángeles de Albania

que también le gusta La Opera

y es fan de La Boheme como mi abuelo

me conto de Ermonela Jaho y de Ervin Hatibi

me explico que si no tienes argumentos

es cuando alzas tu voz.

Me canto a mi corazón y la amé por 1 minuto.

Gracias  Fatmira Allmuça



It looks like they’re all turning around
To stare at me as I live
And feel and blush.
I know
I reek of olives,
They are stars,
Scribbled vertically
In a parish roster,
Sewn into my lungs
With the threads I once bit off
My grandmother’s black scarf
(in which I often found her grey hairs).
On wretched nights I extract them, thorns
From my ankles, these Gothic olives, these daytime stars.
With them I adorn my room,
The commonplace Christmas trees
Of my lonely existence.
I also like to write poems.