.:wanderlustmedia+dot+org:.

…i keep asking mself… found a fancy restaurant specializing in undomesticated animal meat(tho these days,

it seems they mostly raise formerly wild animals, too- rather than actually hunt them. is this better or worse,

i ask myself?)
* name of ‘café viena’. it had some fancy pastries including sacher torte, too, but no linzer torte…well,

couldn’t find it in salzburg, what was i to expect…seems as if outside of linz, th mythical dessert is to be

found only in a couple places in nyc… spent th last two days struggling w/ archaically slow, bottlenecked

servers @ universidad complutense- have bn commuting into town via la universidad every morning w/ my cousin

miguel sobrino blanco from th madrid bedroom community suburb of alcobendas. he’s something of a semiotician,

teaching communication theory & seeking to develop methodology for more correctly reading & analysing

advertising practices scarcely recognised as such- such as point-of-sale product blurbs, store window

displays…also, th burgeoning internet, of course… so i’m back to watching th clock as i write, after

looking over my ‘camino d santiago’ route guide last night in an attempt to check my memory for detail & start

organising some kind of narrative about those most intnse six days… this is th beginning of th road back. it

was a difficult decision, fueled by possibly untrue hearsay, but i’ve ended up not going to galicia, not

visiting la guardia, not checking on th old family house @ all…th rumor was that my uncles may have already

found a buyer & th house is gone, gone, gone…it felt difficult to show up in town after that, uncomfortable

to look for a place to stay & go over th same ol’ plans & illusions i’ve bn talking up for th last four, five

years in response from th same ol’ questions on th part of relatives & acquaintances of every stripe…i’m

especially sorry not to have a chance to see & talk to josé fandiño, who runs th only gym in th village & has

bn unstintingly generous in welcoming me to its facilities whenever i’ve bn in town…or w/ leo álvarez sousa,

who has gone from trekking, oasis to oasis, in his land rover down to senegal or east into algeria, to

travelling as a caritas volunteer to kosovo & is now in th process of producing a cd-rom w/ some o his

photographs & other documents to help w/ fund-raising efforts…or w/ my cousin dr. kiko sobrino, who three

years ago told me he had taken a risk w/ some of his savings to help produce a friend’s film…! i’ll have to

make do w/ a couple of phone calls from now, & hope my plans for next year work out…as it is, i’m on th way

back to barcelona, to paris or pisa on th way to weimar, to wolfenbuttel &/or hamburg on th way to amsterdam, &

nyc on th way to puerto rico…it sure is th long way home form where i’m trying to catch my breath right

now…
love to all,
dabizzet.j=(8{>

es vergonzoso: por qué me cuesta tanto llevar una columna semanal en castellano
paralela a la q llevo más d un año logrando redactar con sorprendente
regularidad y disciplina utilizando ‘el difícil’ shakespeariano?
al grano: mi semana d recuperación en pamplona-iruña se ha convertido en una
gran jornada gastronómica: no bien acabo d enviar mi último resumen d los
hechos- el martes- q el chef-propietario iñaxio me saluda mientras degusto unas
crèpes d marisco en el restaurant-asador q lleva su nombre. encontramos mucho
tema, me confiesa q ese día cumple cincuenta&ocho, y brindamos con una copa d
cava.
anoche he invitado a fernando anso, a quien conocí el día d cierre d su
café-galería joakín, en puente la reina-garés, a q me acompañara a cenar. le
había confesado a iñaxio q soy un ex-vegetariano y q, quién sabe por qué
reducto atávico d culpabilidad, la caza en su estación es la carne q más
disfruto: pues promete- y cumple espectacularmente- regalarme el paladar con un
ciervo q lleva par d días limpiando y adobando…una velada memorable q
merecería detallar en otra ocasión. hoy regreso a comer, a probar una ‘alubiada
con todos los sacramentos’ q prepara todos los jueves en esta segunda parte dl
otoño. lo difícil para mí van a ser los ’sacramentos’, q incluyen morcilla y
longaniza…
lo q veo repetirse claramente es mi manera d encontrar ‘hogares’ culinarios en
mi vagabundeo o peregrinar. siempre parece haber algo d codependencia en las
relaciones q establezco, las amistades q se traban: repito y rehago núcleos
cuasi-familiares con gente q se entrega a manos llenas y afronta grandes
dificultades al tratar d establecer una vida y espacio privados al margen d su
trabajo, q generalmente incluye pero no logra enteramente abarcar todas sus
grandes pasiones- grandes bebedores, glotonoes exquisitos, fumadores excesivos
d todas las estirpe… personalidades compulsivas, tan generosas como
potencialmente autodestructivas…
bueno, pues me place q cada día me relaciono mejor con esta gente en el plano
común q logramos establecer: aprendiendo a establecer y respetar mis propios
límites, expresándolos claramente…sin ansiedades, manipulaciones ni
recriminaciones- tanto para con los q me rodean como conmigo mismo: ésto para
mí es lograr un poco d balance, recuperación y cordura en esta paradójica,
mágica, insólita vida q he acabado por forjarme- no tan conscientemente como
tal vez me gustaría pretender, pero con cada vez más claridad y sentido d
autoresponsabilidad…abrazzous a todos,
d.sette=(8{>

es vergonzoso: por qué me cuesta tanto llevar una columna semanal en castellano
paralela a la q llevo más d un año logrando redactar con sorprendente
regularidad y disciplina utilizando ‘el difícil’ shakespeariano?
al grano: mi semana d recuperación en pamplona-iruña se ha convertido en una
gran jornada gastronómica: no bien acabo d enviar mi último resumen d los
hechos- el martes- q el chef-propietario iñaxio me saluda mientras degusto unas
crèpes d marisco en el restaurant-asador q lleva su nombre. encontramos mucho
tema, me confiesa q ese día cumple cincuenta&ocho;, y brindamos con una copa d
cava.
anoche he invitado a fernando anso, a quien conocí el día d cierre d su
café-galería joakín, en puente la reina-garés, a q me acompañara a cenar. le
había confesado a iñaxio q soy un ex-vegetariano y q, quién sabe por qué
reducto atávico d culpabilidad, la caza en su estación es la carne q más
disfruto: pues promete- y cumple espectacularmente- regalarme el paladar con un
ciervo q lleva par d días limpiando y adobando…una velada memorable q
merecería detallar en otra ocasión. hoy regreso a comer, a probar una ‘alubiada
con todos los sacramentos’ q prepara todos los jueves en esta segunda parte dl
otoño. lo difícil para mí van a ser los ’sacramentos’, q incluyen morcilla y
longaniza…
lo q veo repetirse claramente es mi manera d encontrar ‘hogares’ culinarios en
mi vagabundeo o peregrinar. siempre parece haber algo d codependencia en las
relaciones q establezco, las amistades q se traban: repito y rehago núcleos
cuasi-familiares con gente q se entrega a manos llenas y afronta grandes
dificultades al tratar d establecer una vida y espacio privados al margen d su
trabajo, q generalmente incluye pero no logra enteramente abarcar todas sus
grandes pasiones- grandes bebedores, glotonoes exquisitos, fumadores excesivos
d todas las estirpe… personalidades compulsivas, tan generosas como
potencialmente autodestructivas…
bueno, pues me place q cada día me relaciono mejor con esta gente en el plano
común q logramos establecer: aprendiendo a establecer y respetar mis propios
límites, expresándolos claramente…sin ansiedades, manipulaciones ni
recriminaciones- tanto para con los q me rodean como conmigo mismo: ésto para
mí es lograr un poco d balance, recuperación y cordura en esta paradójica,
mágica, insólita vida q he acabado por forjarme- no tan conscientemente como
tal vez me gustaría pretender, pero con cada vez más claridad y sentido d
autoresponsabilidad…abrazzous a todos,
d.sette=(8{>

-but i ain’t gonna see my baby tonight. got no baby to see. so on th

seventh

day, i rested. pushd it a little too far, too fast- what else is new?

nearly 160 kilometers in that week- from canfranc near somport & th

aragonese

border w/ france to puente la reina-garés in navarra, where el camino

aragonés

joins el camino francés…th nail on my big left toe is on its way off-

tiene

los días contados, even if i’m not doing th counting, my left knee is still

achy after four days inactivity- some sweling, not sure if it’s tendinitis

(tendOnitis?) or bruisd cartilage…i’m not into th heavy macho thing, i

need

to train a little better for whatever follow-up i expect to do…

it’s a grey day in pamplona as i write this & i’m paying for th hemingway

aura-

i actually have th room next door to th one he always took- in th hotel la

perla because i arrived in town after midnight sunday & th hostales had all

lockd their doors. i walkd into café-bar joakín in puente la reina

expecting to

have an early lunch- before two in th aftenoon, in spain- & check th photo

show

on th walls before taking th afternoon bus into th capital- iruña, in

basque-

only to find myself invited to th closing supper that evening by th

owner-chef,

who also had some even nicer black & white prints hung in th rear dining

room-

& these were his own. after a long afternoon of drinking & dice-throwing, i

helpd fernando make a big dish of cous-cous we all dug into w/ spoons…th

man

is working to open his new business here in town sometime before th

christmas

season & i haven’t managed to see him since he droppd me off @ th corner of

la

plaza dl castillo where th hotel is snugly nestled…tonight will be my

third

night, i was hoping to do another week of walking, into la rioja or th

first

towns in castilla but i’m not sure i can handle th cold wave that’s coming

in

my resource-depleted state…there’s another spanner in th works: i’ve

gotten

word that th house in la guardia may have bn already sold, so i have no

place

of my own to go to…gotta call my pariente carlitos alonso & find out

what’s

going on…th news, as may be expected, contributes to making me feel

increasingly adrift, homeless- there is no place on earth where i do not

live

as if in exile, including puerto rico…(à suivre…)

love, love/ i have hung our cave w/ roses…

davidj=(8{>

* but i ain’t gonna see my baby tonight. got no baby to see. so on th seventh day, i rested. pushd it a little

too far, too fast- what else is new? nearly 160 kilometers in that week- from canfranc near somport & th

aragonese border w/ france to puente la reina-garés in navarra, where el camino aragonés joins el camino

francés…th nail on my big left toe is on its way off- tiene los días contados, even if i’m not doing th

counting, my left knee is still achy after four days inactivity- some sweling, not sure if it’s tendinitis

(tendOnitis?) or bruisd cartilage…i’m not into th heavy macho thing, i need to train a little better for

whatever follow-up i expect to do… it’s a grey day in pamplona as i write this & i’m paying for th hemingway

aura-i actually have th room next door to th one he always took- in th hotel la perla because i arrived in town

after midnight sunday & th hostales had all lockd their doors. i walkd into café-bar joakín in puente la reina

expecting to have an early lunch- before two n th aftenoon, in spain- & check th photo show on th walls before

taking th afternoon bus into th capital- iruña, in basque-only to find myself invited to th closing supper that

evening by th owner-chef, who also had some even nicer black & white prints hung in th rear dining room-& these

were his own. after a long afternoon of drinking & dice-throwing, i helpd fernando make a big dish of cous-cous

we all dug into w/ spoons…th man is working to open his new business here in town sometime before th

christmas season & i haven’t managed to see him since he droppd me off @ th corner of la plaza dl castillo

where th hotel is snugly nestled…tonight will be my third night, i was hoping to do another week of walking,

into la rioja or th first towns in castilla but i’m not sure i can handle th cold wave that’s coming in my

resource-depleted state…there’s another spanner in th works: i’ve gotten word that th house in la guardia may

have bn already sold, so i have no place of my own to go to…gotta call my parinte carlitos alonso & find out

what’s going on…th news, as may be expected, contributes to making me feel increasingly adrift, homeless-

there is no place on earth where i do not live as if in exile, including puerto rico…(à suivre…) love,

love/ i have hung our cave w/ roses… davidj=(8{>

(regresando a casa d mi primo miguel en alcobendas advierto la luna saliendo
entre brumas, distorsionada y deforme, entre fases- y recuerdo cómo hice mi
disciplina d escritura semanal en la playa d vega baja- hebdo.amStrand- sobre
el ‘pie forzado’ temático dl ciclo lunar y el sentido d eterno retorno,
fatalidad, plenitud insignificante q carga para mí- y entonces se murió
‘el tonto d rafael’ según el mismo se autodenominaba en uno d sus primeros
poemarios…lo envío como despedida a barcelona…)
abrazos a todos, dabizzet.j=(8{>

palmo a palmo
entre una noche y su amarga hermana menor
la luna se desinfla:

no ha podido elevar la carga d su plenitud un instante más-
por entregar su sombra al olvido d la sombra
vacía su redondez

por abandonar el horizonte d tierra
por despojar el vientre polvoriento dl levante
se hace lánguida y lenta

cómo encontrar un rumbo
entre curvas columnas negras?
sin un reflejo d cano tiempo trenzado
desde las altas ventanas rotas

la noche es el propio salto d la luna
demasiado amplio para la medida incierta d su fé

el mar es la gran puerta dl ensueño
umbral informe dl reposo más sensual y satisfecho
nos hacemos viejos sobre la ruta
rindiendo la pueril altura dl pedregal
amontonado sobre la meseta
nos hacemos viejos recorriendo el camino dl sol
hacia su origen o destino

(pero nuestra infancia, rafael, sobrevive
como tierna momia q mira inmóvil, sujeta
entre las mugrosas vendas dl tiempo
a través d nuestros ardientes, heridos ojos)

stall out day…write out into th void..swimming in a sea of quotes-’if not now, when?’ rabbi hillel, ‘whatever

you can do or think you can do, begin it!
…for boldness has power, magic &(…?)in it’
* goethe
…ich kreise um gott, um den uralten turm
um ich kreise jahrtausendelang;
und ich weiss nicht: bin ich ein falke, ein sturm
oder ein grosser gesang
* r.m.rilke
*but* i’m taking a first step towards walking th walk, getting on a train most likely @ eight-thirty tomorrow

morning, saturday th 9th oktober, to canfranc estación in aragón where i will see about getting my pilgrim card

& @ th very least, hiking el camino aragonés for a week… i keep rehearsing postings as i eat, as i walk, as

i drift off to sleep but i become absorbd by basic mail mgmt & other office tasks in th context of a large room

w/ a dozen keyboards clicking away…i rpomise mself i’ll write down longhand drafts & just enter & edit in

here, ‘del dicho al hecho…’(from word to deed…another case of compulsively talking th talk @ mself only to

build a wall of resistance against walking th walk…hmmmm…) one line @ a time, one posting @ a time, one

day, one week, one meal, one street, one town, one world, one life @ a time…
(to be continued…)
my endless…davidj=(8{>

no morning pages: filld up my lined page school-type notebk & am…hesitating on th shift to th big bound

sketchbk…no sitting, no morning pages- lost my new two-month old timex bought @ k-mart on astor place in th

east(?)village…dove into th rough, dirty sea of th barceloneta beach @ th end of my run yesterday…’doing

lunch’ today w/ toni garcía-porta, co-author of th book source for my screenplay…our gentleman’s agreement on

th option for th film rights lapsd w/ th end of ‘98 & i’m wondering if we can move towards my starting to

assume my co-producer role & finally buying these rights… what else? it’s friday. david zambrano dances this

wkend, expect to go see himn tomorrow. marel hasn’t finishd editing her film short, she will not have a look @

my draft until november- when she will be teaching a workshop on screen writing. recommended i reread

truffaut’s book-length hitchcock interview for some gems…also, jean-claude carrière, who workd w/ buñuel, has

a good book on th craft…it took me hmm..an hour & a half of office chores, email replys, a peek @ some teen

webcake to finally get down to writing…got claudia, australian of chilean parentage, together w/ tiina,

finnish dancer & performance artist who just narrowly missd relocating to nyc on relationship woes…i may save

this & do a second part tomorrow before posting- sent my first poetic attempt in spanish off yesterday…mónica

serrano & father tom might be interested in it, too…i think twice when figuring out who speaks what out of my

friends & family, w/ having a german nephew who is more comfortable speaking french than english by now, though

th latter is his better written language (hey, hpjhD, when do we ever see each other?? newyear’s eve, y2k??)
(à suivre…) saturday th second of october. here’s a weird one: david zambrano here in barcelona hails from

ecuador, he’s not th david zambrano from venezuela i know! two imrovisational dance performers from different

countries in south america w/ th same name?? wild. i’ll go see him perform tonight. had three fruit yogurts

for a late bkfast around noon & th sugar threw me into a candida/hypoglecimic nap…so i had a double espresso

sweetened w/ anisette (more sugar!) & a croissant for ‘lunch’…gonna be four o´clock: run soon, early, meet up

w/ tiina by seven-thirty for a healthy, early din(?) @ la botiga comme-bio before going ‘uptown’ for th

show…i’ve got two or three drafts starting on a ’story thus far’ theme, as much to help me step back a bit,

refocus, organize my priorities as to fill in people i haven’t been sending every installment to on parts of th

story they may have missd. david sower in virginia may finally help me put up a basic webpage where i can

upload my writing to an archive so tht friends, family & total strangers may @ their own leisure, in their own

time, peruse my ongoing journal & as much of last year’s story as i transferred from my powerbook’s hardrive to

my yahoo & excite accounts… basta for now!
* what is this thing called…? davidj=(8{>