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The Road Diaries

by Kevin Carrel Footer
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The Way Back

The Way Back

by Kevin Carrel Footer The past reminds me of things that were. Like sugar-coated castles, those things glimmer in the distance and their beauty overwhelms me. I would like to return, but cannot. I can find no way back to the lost places. The maps have been destroyed;...

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Making That Strong Place Strong

Making That Strong Place Strong

By Kevin Carrel Footer I have been working lately at making that strong place strong. It is hard work. Often the strong place isn’t so strong as it should be. But it should be strong – it must be strong – if we are to become fully ourselves. For most of us, creating...

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The Voluptuousness of Nothing

The Voluptuousness of Nothing

Take Nothing. Hold it up. Turn it in your hand. Have a good, long stare. Nothing, in spite of its bad press, is really quite something – especially when compared to the alternatives. So many of the things that press around us filling our time and space are so bland...

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Rainy-Day Soliloquy

Rainy-Day Soliloquy

by Kevin Carrel Footer In La Boca, the river has shed its customary brown livery and turned gray. You would think that a river would remain one color, not change like a chameleon, but you would be wrong. The Rio de la Plata is a shape-shifter, writhing and cavorting...

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The Wooden Table

The Wooden Table

by Kevin Carrel Footer He ran his fingers across the wooden table because he wanted to feel something real again, something that connected him to the organic world. His fingertips feared splinters — admittedly, that was part of the thrill — but they found only worn...

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Food, Sex, Pets and Tango

Food, Sex, Pets and Tango

When a stranger opens their arms to us in a tango embrace, it is an invitation. When we bare our chest to receive our partner, it is trust in its purest form. When our arms wrap around each other in romantic or fraternal love, it is a homecoming, a possibility.

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Cigarette Breath

Cigarette Breath

Milonga at Los Laureles, Buenos Aires, 2018 After the first tango ended, we made the small-talk that is the unguent that holds the milonga community together. “Do you come here often?” “How beautiful the orchestra is playing tonight.” “I love the way you dance.” My...

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The Party is on the Street

The Party is on the Street

Carnival is back and the party is on the street. I lug my cameras and even a light stand out into the heat of the night. I would like to travel lighter but I don’t know where the photos will spring from. All I know is that I will end the night covered in sweat and...

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Write Like You Dance

Write Like You Dance

I try my best to embrace the chaotic, contradictory, random abundance and confusion around me (and inside me) and bring it all into balance. Balance for me means not getting overly attached to any one outcome, laughing at myself regularly and learning to flow. It...

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