Fuzzy mind. This week I had some tremendous highs and many interesting excursions to Mayan villages checking out textiles and handicrafts, and fascinating conversations about people in the past, but at the moment I can’t focus on one specific thing to write.

I saw… an iridescent iguana run into my room. And children flying kites. Clouds moving across the skies quickly and thunderstorms that showered on me, and the tickling wet feeling felt nice. The silver lining and the whiteness of fog that dampens the forest of tall pines like a smoky backdrop. I saw mist floating through landscapes of cornfield. Exquisite cliffs. Red earth with rivulets of rainwater flowing down. I remember certain ways the highway bent along the mountains, and suddenly you could see far to the horizon over a vast landscape of canopy forest. And in the back of the truck I felt this exhilarating rush with the wind whipping my hair back, seeing hundreds of kilometers of plateau down below from such altitude that the mountains far away seemed faint blue. My heart could barely contain such feelings. Soaring falcons with enormous wingspans lifting from the air current, suspended in the skies.

It reminded me of the raw rush of piloting, the stimulating and visceral sense of being airborne, the giddy anticipation and the hungry respiration, the expansion of a young heart. Looking far away over the plateau and tropical jungle, as the highway curved along the enormous pine mountains, I felt divine. Or like a cheetah or a hunter. Scanning the flat valleys for herds and birds.

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After breakfast, Mary and I spent the day together, strolling around Zinacantan. Very privileged to have her company. She shared from the perspective of someone in her fifties… the regrets of not using sunscreen and getting skin damage(!)… on the acceptance and difficulties of raising a daughter with schizo… on working alongside historical icons of this town and the lifetime friends she had made…on moral decisions and how things in your youth will affect your entire life (!)… fear of not having the technical capacity for certain dream jobs…I was floored by some of the perspectives. I just felt so honored to be let into her life, as a new friend, and make that personal and human connection.

She had plenty of anecdotes of working twenty years in Papyrus (which we ended up going to Taller Leñateros and I helped her choose a gift for her friend and president of the company)… and she told me about her neighbor who is a famed British pop-up book artist (so we got a pop-up children’s book for him)….and recommended me a handicrafts company called World Of Good based in Emeryville by an Indian-American who knew tons about the Third World but operates on a profitable capitalistic model. This week we might go to some of the farther Mayan villages that few people ever visit, to see the famed pottery and trajes de novio. Anticipation, ’cause I’m happy.

Spanish Words of the Day:grafío” hook | “entrecruzar” to weave | “anguila” eel | “restringir” to restrict

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