This Is Bill (IV)

I just remembered the night I got into a tour bus for the first time. My friend Mary was there with me, we found out these tour busses were giving free rides on Fridays. This was great. The only bad thing was that you had to be in the bus station at least an hour earlier, because of the free tickets. We wanted to go on top of the bus, but, unluckily we couldn’t.

So, we went in the bottom, anyway. Thing is, it was so much fun, because there were many musicians and clowns that day, and they made the ride funny and interesting.

I pretty much think that night is hard to forget. I was so happy and I enjoyed her company. She was only a friend, I never saw her like anything else. But I decided to give her my favorite guitar pick. I just don’t know why, I just did. And I don’t regret it at all. It was a beautiful yellow- animal printed pick. It looked pretty much like a leopard. I loved that pick, so much.

I don’t know where Mary is now, or what she might be doing at this precise moment; all I know is that we aren’t closer now as we were back in those days. And I always wonder. I wonder where my pick might be. I wonder if she has it still, or maybe it got lost inside a train or something.

Since then, lots of memories just came out of nowhere. Like, this one time when I was at the event for “book’s universal day” and there was this Jazz band.

There is a famous writer who says, in one of his books, that Jazz is like going up in an “elevator of time”. I didn’t really get it until that day. And I remember feeling good, warm inside, and barely closing my eyes at the end of the song. I felt time was frozen, like being in love, almost the same feeling. So, I guess, because of that, maybe you can fall in love with songs as well.

This is Bill (II)

Falling in love should feel like a freezing in time, just a little fraction which feels infinite. At least that’s what I thought when I saw you that Saturday in the park.  I don’t know what you did to me. 

It’s weird how you can fall in love with someone you don’t know in person, but, somehow, has the right words you need to hear. I like to think you think about me, although you are in another places, perhaps, under other blankets; at sea, or playing cards, or dreaming.

Look: It’s all gone with the wind…

Daniel says you’re crazy, and I should let you go and meet other people. I still don´t know what I did to you that could possibly have been wrong and made you mad at me. In fact, I don’t even know if you’re mad at me, but I think you’re just not yourself these days.

Today I was at Spanish class, and I felt like I wanted to be left alone. I like to draw a lot, in case you didn’t know. My Spanish teacher is new, she seems really nice, but I don’t know her yet, if you know what I mean.

So, she told me to join a work group, and I said I would, but I really didn’t. I just stayed in my spot, and kept drawing. I like how whispers sound. And I like how rain sounds. I also like silence.

To me, looking at the sky whether is blue or grey, day or night time seems one of my favorite things in the world to do.

Sometimes in the morning, when I go to school, I see the beautiful red and blue, cloudy, mixed sky. And I think about some songs and wonder how would it be in other countries and if people look at the same sky, and wonders.

I don’t know if there’s actually someone as curious as me, somewhere far beyond.

This is Bill (I)

I like taking pictures of people, I like to see how they move - How they moved, how they’ll move - And I relate fish with infinity, because, when mom taught me how to draw a fish for the first time, it had this shape, like an eight lying down but with a little vertical line at the end, so that it’s really closer to the infinity sign, which actually has the shape of an eight lying down, like this:

∞

That’s why I think fish are infinite.

It all started when I saw the fog, in the middle of a family trip in 1990, with my cousins. The view became all thick, like it was covered by a blanket, a big, white blanket. It was beautiful; certainly an unpredictable spectacle.

Since then, I learned to amplify my perspective, to see beyond the common way things have. I understood that you just can’t stare at a leaf without showing sensibility, even if everyone else doesn’t. They just look at the leaf and pass by. In fact, they don’t even look at the leaf. That’s why I decided I was going to look things for real by this time, like the fog; you can’t ignore and get sleepy in the car, you should appreciate it by its inner condition.

So, every time I stare at something, I try to relate it with some stuff that has a presence in real life, for example, what I said about fish and the infinity sign; or people and pictures; rain and poured water; red colorant and blood…

My favorite color is blue. I wish chocolate was blue, as well, or if it could have a blue fill in it. That’s a millionaire idea, I think: Imagine a chocolate with a blueberry fill in an indigo blue color.  How tasty. 

Este podría ser un buen comienzo para una historia en Inglés...

And while the wind was blowing, she kept waiting… But the giant purple dot was still there in front of her…