Category: Little Epiphanies
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Listen.
In the almost silence, worlds step out from their hiding places. Rivers rise up from the sand. Mountains heave themselves out of flatness. There, in the quiet of a new-formed land, we stand together, face-to-face, you and me.
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The Finding Place
In 1986, I took refuge in a stone monastery at the top of the mountain where the monks wore golden robes and goats roamed the corridors. It was a time without words. The monks believed that a message would be brought to them on the wind so they kept their voices down for fear they’d…
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Flowers at Midnight
A the door of a tumble-down bar in Buenos Aires, a man watches a woman step out of her car to buy flowers at midnight […]
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Dirty Pink Slippers
When I began ballet, I started with standard issue black slippers. Out of affection and frugality, I wore them till they were in tatters. My big toes eventually worked their way through the cloth. Doing routines at the barre one day I was suddenly ashamed of those toes gawking at me. Moreover, I felt pity…
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Something Precious to Behold
The car coasted down the center of Avenida de Mayo at a stately parade-like crawl. People in flip-flops and shorts and light dresses strolled. Insects hummed in the trees and vied with the air conditioning units for the right to be the soundtrack of summer. People in sidewalk cafés fluttered themselves with fans. Under a…
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The Party’s on the Street
February is my favorite month, bar none. The holidays and their urgencies have passed. Many people have left the city on vacation and those who have returned still exude that holiday vibe together with new tans. Clothing is scant; the MVO (Minimum Viable Outfit) is the sweet spot. Nights are sweaty but come as a…
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The World at the End of the Line
On a whim, I took the subway to the very last station. Heading for the outskirts of the city is like rumbling across the troubled expanse of 20th Century Argentina. You descend through preening stations of ornate tile proud to be gateways to the first underground system in South America but you exit from stations…
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Virgin of the High Waters
When the river started to rise, they busied themselves getting everything as high up as they could. They threw ropes over the rafters and hoisted furniture into the air. A dining room table and its chairs became an elaborate swaying chandelier. They drove the livestock to the highest part of this rolling, water-logged terrain. “The…
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A Freer Way to Tango
I was fortunate to be present at the birth of this movement when Augusto organized the first gay milongas in Buenos Aires. Lalo and Roxana Gargano went table to table offering plates of cookies they’d brought from their family’s bakery. It was all very homespun. Nevertheless, we sensed that something momentous was happening that night.…