Sophia's Blog: January 2013

Prick your finger on a spinning wheel

ii
Being with you here,
in this room

is like groping through a mirror

whose glass has melted

to the consistency

of gelatin

You refuse to be

(and I)

an exact reflection, yet

will not walk from the glass,

be separate.

Anyway, it is right

that they have put

so many mirrors here

(chipped, hung crooked)

in this room with its high transom

and empty wardrobe; even

the back of the door

has one.

.................

.............

I want the circle

broken.

The circle game, Margaret Atwood

Digo la verdad si es que tu la sabes

This is not the laptop you're looking for....

Instead, it is hot, spicy, salty and sweet, much like life...

Crumbly bits and all! :-D
"Sophia's loot" has landed after a loooong journey from Mexico (seriously, almost a month? A MONTH???) to follow up the previous loot from Argentina... Who says that Christmas is over? :-P
My preciousssssssssssssssssssssssss...., Ernesto, abrazos!!!!

The leaves they move like poetry

“In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt.”

Margaret Atwood

The Moment

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
Margaret Atwood

Arkham City? Hm..... :-D

The story moved on...

When going to buy A Clash of Kings in Greek, as a nameday present, turns you into a spectacle at Ianos, because, right next to it, the Greek translation of The Name of the Wind, by Patrick Rothfuss, quietly awaits the clueless observer... Ok, I admit jumping up and down holding the book and making weird happy noises might have been a bit too much, but hey, I DID keep myself from holding the book over my head and shouting "My precioussssssssssss"... And this is how the past year ended! :-)

This is CS50, and, finally, the beginning of the project in Scratch, for which many ideas festered, but only one got to actually getting a life!! (Seriously, I should visit the translated fantasy section in bookstores, more often!) :-D