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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…
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A Bubble, Two Clouds and a Turkish Date
The expanding soap bubble from a child’s wand emerges like one of God’s orbs in the dappled sunlight: a brief, magic, improbable moment. A flitting, daring, pointless endeavor and, for that, all the more beautiful. Then it bursts, a spasm in the sunlight, and one wonders if it ever existed. Bubbles are made to burst…
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Milonga de Carnaval
by Kevin Carrel Footer I arrived in Argentina already nostalgic. There is no logical explanation for this as I had no past here. No grandfather of mine sat me on his lap and told me stories of his youthful adventures in Buenos Aires. No branch of the family tree had ever set foot in South…
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Other People’s Stories
by Kevin Carrel Footer www.kevincarrelfooter.com I listen to other peoples’ stories and they become mine. It is as if I were compiling an encyclopedia of stories. I settle into a seat at the corner café, open a newspaper or begin a conversation with a stranger. Their stories – whether I want them to or not…