Category Archives: PEBBLES FROM THE SOUL

Farewell and THANKS!


My mum called today with the news that Gustavo Cerati, after a 4-years coma, had finally passed away.

I wish his soul a peaceful rest surrounded by angels with whom he will surely make the most heavenly music.

Despite the sadness that losing such a creative genius brings, I couldn’t help but dance all around my bed while listening to some of his most famous hits as well as feel, once more, deeply moved by his ballads.

Farewell buddy! And thanks, thanks, thanks, for having given us a gift that will never cease to exist: YOUR MUSIC.







Mr Nelson Mandela passed away today. The loss of him represents a loss for all humanity since the sole idea that he existed gave us some hope that someone, somewhere was fighting for those ideals we aspire to but constantly put aside. He’s got now a well-deserved rest, but he will be highly missed.

Rowing in the Sand.


I’ve been blocked enough for years not to even remember I am,  essentially, a writer.

I’ve been willing to write but found myself without what to write about.

I’ve been lazy enough not to write at all for months, even when I had an idea to write about.

But it had never happened to me before to have the  idea, a minimum conviction of my being a writer, and a certain will to write, and not being able to push it ahead further than  two sentences at a time. It’s quite annoying and frustating!

I started writing this piece  “Akashic Records” (you may look for its first draft in a previous post) a year ago perhaps. I started with an idea and I wrote the introduction pretty swiftly, but then I realized my writing had taken me to a completely different plot from the one I had in mind when I started and I didn’t know how to continue it. Then, more  or less six months went by in blackness.

However, this wonderful summer a spark stroke me and all of a sudden I had the whole layout!

Imagine my exhilaration!

I set myself to write and moved forward for two chapters or so; but then… nothing.

Don’t get me wrong! I really want to write! I know what I want to write about, but I can’t do it!

I wake up and tell myself I have to write today and I accept it willingly. I sat at the computer and get ready to do it and then I just diverge! I don’t understand why it’s become so unattainable! Now that I came to think of it, I’m wondering if it all comes to the simple fact that this piece doesn’t have a soundtrack. All my other writings have had a song or couple of songs that helped me to focus. I played them endlessly while I wrote and didn’t stop until it was all done. I even include the tracks when I present my pieces because I think it important for the reader to listen to them along with the reading because they let’s say, summarize the mood or the piece.

But this orphan doesn’t have a voice on its own and I don’t know if I can adopt one for it now because all my other children were conceived simultaneously with the finding of some music that captured me for a period of time and it just didn’t happen this time. I’ve tried to present it to some music it might like, but it’s been useless. I  get distracted or the music just bothers me. It’s as if I can’t pay attention to more than one thing at a time anymore.

This is my mute child.

But as all different children, it will prove worth the extra effort because I suspect it hasn’t found its sound yet because it dwells in a much more extensive universe than its older siblings.

Please reader, talk to me. Be the voice and music that carries me through this delivery.

A Tale Made of Scraps.


Today I woke up thinking on a piece I wrote almost eight years ago during my freshman year at the Teaching Institute (I just found out I don’t know how to say such a simple and daily expression as “profesorado de inglés”!). Anyway! It was an assignment for the Phonetics  I class. We had been working with the fricative counterparts in words like “she” and “pleasure” and the professor had given us a list of words and phrases that inlcuded those sounds to practise transcription. She  challenged us to use them in a story so as to encourage us to practise more.

As it has happended to me so many times, when the due day came, I felt much embarrassed because I was the only one who had used them all and almost everybody was giving me that pejorative, exasperated look  to immediately shut me out of their conversations. I handed it in anyway, innerly feeling very proud of my achievement as much as cast out. I couldn’t help  expecting some show of acknowledgement on the part of my professor, but, when I got it back,  the only thing that was written on the paper was a “watch out grammar” on the orthographic version and an “OK” below the transcription.

Ah! I was certainly disappointed! Because I had thought myself such a whizz! But she was right on the grammar, no doubt! I look at it now (being such an organized freak has payed back at last because I could find it among ALL my papers and binders in less than five minutes) and it sucks! On my behalf I’ll say that I had passed the entrance exam to faculty just with the English I had learnt as a teenager (twenty years before that time) and most of my vocabulary I had acquired it by reading (as I still do) — I don’t want to let the opportunity pass (one never knows who might read this) without thanking publicly to who would afterwards be my Methodology and Didactics I Professor, Gabriel Díaz Maggioli,  for letting me enter the faculty in spite of my obvious shortcomings.

So,  I read it again and all things considered, I still think I was as clever as hell when I could string together such dissimilar expressions. I re-typed it and made an excruciating effort not to edit it in anyway. I just changed a little the paragraphs layout because it seems that in those days I couldn’t stand a paragraph with more that one sentence in it, HA! I highlighted the expressions in question in blue. I obviously corrected the grammar mistakes the professor pointed at, but there could be more, no doubt, as there will be in this very post which I’ll re-write again and again in my head and edit many times more.

What do you think of it?


Editing, editing, editing.


I can’t help editing my sotries in my head over and over again.  In this case, I woke up today  thinking that even when I wanted to write a different story about a possible future I had gotten into the same tried path and there was  a kind of  contradiction at the end. When I thought of Parting Day I used the easy way out. The truly trying exercise would be to think of a way out for all the 7 billion people on Earth without losing anyone of them due to the change.

I’ll try. Do you have any suggestions? We might be actually changing our fate 🙂

Under 5ºC…


is what the pelican thermometer a friend brought me from Florida as a souvenir points within this room. Anyway, today was the day for me to finish and upload my last story.

I was a bit overwhelmed when some time ago I realized how hard it was to come across with a story that portrayed a nice future for us Humankind. I found it hard to think of one myself, but worst of all; if I had found one , it would have been so difficult to believe! I thought we deserved some hope, at least to counteract the heaviness that the “no future” vibe brings about.

So I’ve made a feeble attempt on that. I know it’ll sound naive and it’ll be full of gaps. However, I’d love it to happen just as I wrote it. I’ll be really greatful if you happen to read it and find a moment to comment on it.

I better go now… I’m literally freezing!


An egg reloaded.


My last story wasn’t satisfied with how I clothed it yesterday and didn’t stop bugging me about some details I had to check  so she could feel really proud of herself travelling through  cyber space in her best attire.

Children! They never stop annoying parents!