” There is nothing to writing. All you do is to sit by a typewriter and bleed” ..
Ernest Hemingway. Key West 2015.
Public beach. Walk a little further away from people and u will be all alone ..overall quiet..and great for paddle boarder and kite surfer.The sea IS warm and flat..and I’m right under this beauty — at Smathers Beach.
A sweet story that just happened…at a gas station saw a chicken/7 or 8 chicks running around looking for food near the garbage cans. Went inside of the convenient store and bought a white turkey wrap..Asked the cashier not to put it in a plastic since this is for that chicken outside..she showed me an older man that was feeding them as I was buying! She gave my money back ! ( ” A working class hero is something to be “) ..Approached the man and gave him a hug . ” the new management lets me do it now regularly!”
— feeling thankful.
I have been told not once but twice , three times that I look like Frida Kahlo! While I have no objection to her physical beauty and find her interesting but there isn’t any resemblance there in my opinion ! Perhaps is some people ‘s perception of me and how I live my life ! Perhaps it is the fact we are both working artists with dark eyebrows and jet black hair ! While I do fancy Frida ‘s artwork but as far as her personality and what I know of it she and I may have very little in common , except in our persistance to be presented as woman artist and be proud of living it , our ways !
Anyway while in Key West, stay away from Duval st. unless it’s your first time just do a one time stroll! But off Duval do not miss this amazing little jewel and for all my vegetarian friends and myself too don’t get fooled by the name! They got this red wine mushroom empanadas I come here daily for snack. Here is a photo of La Niña !
And once again, the owner thinks I look like Frida Kahlo without the mustache..and he has her pictures are all over the place!
Doing a six hour writing residency with an instructor I have hired for two hours in the next days..mainly poetry..this experience makes me cry from joy. I’m by Big Papa’s pool
— at Ernest Hemingway House.
I drove and drove and finally arrived to God’s country..I found a place to put my head down ..I drove in between prairies , in between moss trees similar to those tall trees in Georgia..Driving in the dark , the trees of the south become almost mystical . I felt like I was travelling in a long stretch of The Bonaventure cemetary in Savannah .. I’m alone..I need to get familiar with this place. I can’t wait to see it in the morning… Truly I don’t know where I’m ! Maybe I drove a little farther, maybe I am in Georgia! Maybe it doesn’t matter! I prefer that!