After breakfast, I swam 16 laps and talked to a white-winged dove about her gorgeous vibrato. I told her she’d make a wonderful Carmen. (She’s here right now, practising arpeggios.) There’s saxophone player in the courtyard and the day is warm. We’ll wander over to the Textiles Museum a bit later.
Last night after dinner we sat in the zocalo and watched people dance to wild Mexican rock music. On the other side of the plaza, an army band. People everywhere, dressed up for a night on the zocalo. We were too. I wore some of my turquoise, perfect in this light.
I’ve been trying to add to my News and Events page but for some reason I can’t edit it. In case you missed my post the other day about the prospect of a new book, I am delighted to share the news that Thornapple Press will publish my memoir-ish essay (or essay-ish memoir), Let A Body Venture At Last Out of its Shelter, next year. I read the contract on the plane to Mexico City last week and then I signed, me in Oaxaca and the publisher, Eve Rickert, in the Galapagos Islands. (Ah, technology.) I am excited to work on this manuscript to make it as good as I can.
The saxophone player is taking a little break and my dove named Carmen is in full voice. Pinch me, it’s Sunday morning in Oaxaca, warm sunlight, flowers, quiet voices of the cleaning women, in Spanish and Zapotec, a body ready to venture at last out, out, out in this beautiful world.
...Theresa Kishkan 