Bogotà= Femme Fatale

So, this is it. I`m a living witness of the chaos, folklore and latin eccentricity.
Chaos has been a friend of this city for all its existence and not only it’s friend but it’s beloved teacher and integral part of it.

Being in Bogotá has been a rush of blood in the head (as Coldplay very well mentions). Every instant fades away, diffusing with lightness my disk space which clutters up my machine and profanes my lighting-fast memories. Every single moment carries and, I would say, makes me aware of the stamp that this places leaves in my unconscious every single time I`m back ¨home¨.

The weather warms up every single human being in this place, even to bring the selfish side of all of us (the one we all have but some hardly use, some use it every day). This physical dimension, which filled with empty and filled souls dazzles in my mind constantly. A second in this profane place, shows how to flirt with danger and forcedly become cold blooded whilst having a warm state of mind. Welcome to Bogotà, la ciudad de la furia…. Where the weather is less predictable than earthquakes in Abuya, where you can find all kinds of fruits and vegetables and living creatures laying on the streets, waiting for some hungry civilian with a bit of sympathy to be devoured instantly.

Sigh. Bogotà has been kinky, harsh, lovely, profane, dirty and seductive.

I would say… Bogotà has become my one and only Femme Fatale.

y olé

Okay, so I just survived a 2 hour flight from Eindhoven to Madrid with bloody Ryanair. I don´t quite understand why I keep on choosing Ryanair to fly... you fly at inhuman hours, only aloud to carry 15 kilos, otherwise they´ll charge you 15€ per kilo! well... fortunately my Colombian mentality still carries on... I ended up taking 3 bags as hand luggage ahhaha I kept on smiling to everyone who wondered how on earth did I manage to pass those through security. (I learned that from flying with Luisa once.. to England, ask her for details)

Anyhow... I made it. We´re in Madrid... haven´t been in Spain in a long time. I need to get use to the way spaniards approach you... and the fact that EVERYONE understands when you swear in Spanish! Coño!

(sigh) I can´t believe i´d miss Holland that much already. I just unrolled a story with someone, without knowing that it would colour the very texture of my daily life, knowing that it was the right space but just not the right time. Meh... there´s only one thing to say.. I´ll be back!

as for now: South America!

Off to Colombia!!

y olé!

3,2,1 go!

Welvaart voor iedereen. Een tweede auto, een tweede huis, jaarlijks een wereldreis of sabbatical, beide partners een carrière en gemiddeld 2.2 kinderen. Als we de media mogen geloven kan het allemaal. "Yes, we can!" Als ik vooral vandaag Obama mag geloven. We hoeven alleen maar aan boord te stappen van de hoge snelheidslijn van het moderne leven. Zowel in ‘economy’ als ‘business class’ creëren time managers gecoached door hun personal goeroes een paradigma waarbinnen deadlines en quality time elkaar aanvullen. Vanzelfsprekend stopt deze ‘Just in Time-Thalys’ alleen op de hoofdstations van de grote steden. Het tussenliggende landschap trekt als een grijze streep voorbij aan het oog van de reiziger.

Laura Beltrán Villamizar besloot om niet in te stappen. Zoals Harry Potter op perron 9 3/4, niet zichtbaar voor gewone stervelingen, de trein nam naar Zweinstein zo nam Laura de trein naar ‘Complete Me’. Deze reis is niet zomaar een hoge snelheidslijn van het moderne leven, maar een inspiratie. Voor u, voor jou, voor hem en voor ons allemaal. De prettige traagheid van de rit breekt de grijze streep als een prisma en toont ons een landschap in magische kleuren. Onder de purperen hemel, in de bruine zon worden wij voorgesteld aan de anderen die de Tempo-Thalys misten of, beter gezegd, nooit namen. Lieve mensen, bijzondere mensen, mooie mensen. Paradijselijk samen in de natuur. De hond hun trouwe makker. Men neemt de tijd. Voor Laura’s camera geven ze zich bloot. We zien emoties, fantasieën en kleine wonderen. Bijna een sprookje maar meer nog het echte leven.

Dit is Laura's reis door het verloren paradijs, beter bekent als: Zuid Amerika.

Welcome on board!

I would say... It’s alright... She’s alright, she’ll come back, to gather around an improvised and unsuccessful bonfire at home. To lay down, flirt a little with the stars, discretely search for the constellations we’re always willing to find even if they just exist in a relative way, and discuss, I would say, every thought that dazzles in a instant of self-consciousness in either head of the witnesses, and slowly fades away, diffusing within the lightness of the green-ink smoke. Just a second, a single and profane instant of her presence, made me aware of the coziness of the second-hand long sweater I was wearing, of its sweet and spoiled smell. It made me conscious of the fact that it was me, my only and unmodifyable physical dimension, which filled the empty spaces, and carried me back to my mother’s womb.

Feelings, disguised as plain impressions, enter again my nervous system, the only qualified witness of my spiritual phase, and hunt me. Ghosts often appear in my dreams and chase me until I forcedly reach the place where I used to play with her as a child. They show me the speculative steps I made, repeat the words I spoke, and hinder my view with the red softness of her hair, heureusement dancing with the wind, shaping the sound of the shaken leaves in that deep nook of my brains where orange-colored experiences are stored.

Fine... boring enough, I know. But still, have I any other way of expressing, (and therefore, recover) the fraction of my soul that left with her? Have I any other alternative rather than this one to feel again the uprising of life she inspired in me, and still keep my feet fixed on this earth? Memories, painful, mysterious and nostalgic as they may appear, relief me.

I can believe there will be a future time when no harsh feelings will come attached to my memories, but I have learnt to stick to the present, and so, my present is the still alive flame of reassurance and joy that inhabited my soul when roller coasters were everywhere, and a well-known ice-cream provided me with bits of reality; the reality I no longer took refuge in, but which still pleased me. Jules.