![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Frank has sent me two messages today.
I think I may have figured out what to do about Afterwar. I was at loose ends at Gloria's today (and watch this space for more thoughts about her condition and stuff, soon) and I couldn't work on the stuff I have on the flash drive because I have misplaced it (again) so I just started writing what I thought would be compost material for the book -- some stuff not from the good bureaucrat's point of view but from the pov of the man without a country, as a small child, and it was, of course, really intense, being the aftermath of a massacre at a displaced person's camp, and I thought I might be able to do three of these pieces, or so, and I might be able to place them in some respect to the other pieces -- maybe break up the long pieces?
Anyway, something to work on this weekend, which also has the Mime Troupe in it. And I pormised to finally finish that review.
And on other fronts, I keep getting a strange whiff like the smell of depilatory cream, which I think comes from the beauty salon I took Gloria to today, which is next to a beautiful little Salvadoran bar-and-cafe where I had a pupusa with loroco and truly strange horchata with peanuts and sesame seed and cinnamon in it. And I figured out, I think, the original inspiration for the babosas that the villagers eat in Luba's home town in "Love and Rockets." Babosas, are, of course, huge slugs. But I think it's a pun on "pupusas" and it's a way for Mexicans to make fun of Salvadorans.
Oh, and we played the simplified "Ode to Joy" theme together on the piano today and it made Gloria really happy. It was hard for me, because I have never been comfortable with written music, always preferring to learn by ear, but it wasn't too hard because I knew what it was supposed to sound like. Gloria wanted to work on simple things she hadn't played before to see if she could learn things. She's really quite aware of her disability and the degenerative aspects of it, and also quite fierce about the mental abilities she's retained. She was reminiscing for a long time with her son Rolfe this morning about the events of his early childhood in Fresno. I realized that Rolfe grew up about the same time and I think in a nearby neighborhood to Gary Soto, so know I want to get some of Soto's semi-autobiographical pieces for Rolfe.
I think I may have figured out what to do about Afterwar. I was at loose ends at Gloria's today (and watch this space for more thoughts about her condition and stuff, soon) and I couldn't work on the stuff I have on the flash drive because I have misplaced it (again) so I just started writing what I thought would be compost material for the book -- some stuff not from the good bureaucrat's point of view but from the pov of the man without a country, as a small child, and it was, of course, really intense, being the aftermath of a massacre at a displaced person's camp, and I thought I might be able to do three of these pieces, or so, and I might be able to place them in some respect to the other pieces -- maybe break up the long pieces?
Anyway, something to work on this weekend, which also has the Mime Troupe in it. And I pormised to finally finish that review.
And on other fronts, I keep getting a strange whiff like the smell of depilatory cream, which I think comes from the beauty salon I took Gloria to today, which is next to a beautiful little Salvadoran bar-and-cafe where I had a pupusa with loroco and truly strange horchata with peanuts and sesame seed and cinnamon in it. And I figured out, I think, the original inspiration for the babosas that the villagers eat in Luba's home town in "Love and Rockets." Babosas, are, of course, huge slugs. But I think it's a pun on "pupusas" and it's a way for Mexicans to make fun of Salvadorans.
Oh, and we played the simplified "Ode to Joy" theme together on the piano today and it made Gloria really happy. It was hard for me, because I have never been comfortable with written music, always preferring to learn by ear, but it wasn't too hard because I knew what it was supposed to sound like. Gloria wanted to work on simple things she hadn't played before to see if she could learn things. She's really quite aware of her disability and the degenerative aspects of it, and also quite fierce about the mental abilities she's retained. She was reminiscing for a long time with her son Rolfe this morning about the events of his early childhood in Fresno. I realized that Rolfe grew up about the same time and I think in a nearby neighborhood to Gary Soto, so know I want to get some of Soto's semi-autobiographical pieces for Rolfe.
Tags: