Category: Little Epiphanies
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Big Guy with Earring: Brian Dessin Day
A Small Celebration of a Big Guy by Kevin Carrel Footer The stories came one after the other. In each he was accompanied by a different exquisite girlfriend: Prague, the 210 motorcycles he had owned, the lecherous rock ‘n’ roll photographer, the train trip across a continent in search of absinthe. Brian Dessin Day was,…
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My Cafes in Buenos Aires
by Kevin Carrel Footer I am sitting in the Puerto Rico Cafe on Calle Alsina. The blades of a ceiling fan are spinning above my head and the street door is open in the vain hope that either the hot air will be tricked out into the street or that passers-by will be tricked in.…
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Looking for that Good Place
by Kevin Carrel Footer Many of us are looking for that good place, that place where we can rest without stagnating, reside without collapsing, stay put without betraying ourselves. Many of us, true to our nomadic origins, have wandered since birth, whether geographically or spiritually. If you are one of those, then you know that…
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The Harvest of These Few Days
by Kevin Carrel Footer While I am busy making an afternoon, the sun toasts the horizon and the moon’s soft arrival in the blue sky reveals the night’s approach. I type sporadically, lost in the post-coital bliss of the week’s contemplation. Across my mind flash delicious fragments of days just passed. It is Sunday and…
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The Circus Goat of the Epiphany
By Kevin Carrel Footer The last time I saw the circus goat, she was walking across a narrow plank three meters off the ground. She was not at all sure of her footing and her gold-fringed caparison was slipping indecently off to one side. She did it all led by a shrill circus announcer in…
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The Painted Remains of Rooms
City houses like city people do not stand alone. They prefer company, nestling shoulder to shoulder in parade formation as if in a pageant – which of course city life is. When they are demolished to make way for another apartment building, it is as if they have broken ranks, their former place marked by…
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Desdemona’s Children
Once the tide receded, we could walk several kilometers out to sea. It is an eerie feeling because you know the water is out there still and will soon return. The sand was hard and smooth under our strides and pocked by small ponds here and there where fish paddled patiently waiting for the tide…
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Juan Carlos Cáceres R.I.P. (as in tear the place up!)
This morning I woke to the news of the death of Juan Carlos Cáceres in Paris. All of us who have jumped up and grabbed a partner when we heard the opening chords of “Tango Negro” or “Tocá Tangó” know very well the beauty and joy of his creations. Those words are forever soaked in…
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The Agony of Pepe Pavan
by Kevin Carrel Footer It had been a night of camping in the rain in the countryside and I had promised the women a hot cup of coffee in the morning. I had not counted on it being so difficult to fulfill my promise. But country towns on the Pampa have more in common with…