¨corre la voz¨

I shower with incense drifting through the steamy air. Vow to buy flowers for myself on my walk home, as soon as the rain stops- which could be in a second or hours. As soon as my precariously perched kitchen is done I want to invite all the pseudo-friends I´ve me over for dinner, wine, maybe litter the roof with candles to make it cheery, and hope no one falls off.



As much as this journey is about exploring ¨breaking silence¨, in my comparative solitude I find myself quiet. And though the irony doesn´t escape me, I clutch at the conversations I do have, and am, I think, becoming a better listener.



I interviewed the assistant producer of the Monologues today. I felt moved, and exhausted, and reminded of why I am here. Its that part of the movie where everything is going smoothly, where I am walking through the subway like a bad-ass with the Blue Scholars (and Dirty Dancing, lets be honest) pounding through my headphones and what I hope is an ice cold expression, conveying that I remember at least 2 ways to gouge out eyeballs.



There is going to be this big blow out celebration Sept. 1st for their 5,000th production (there has never in the history of Mexican theater been a play in more demand), which is going to be this massive call for presidential action to stop the violence against the women of Juarez, which not only continues, but is breaking all kinds of horrific records of untold brutality. Coincidentally, the World´s Aids Conference starts tomorrow, and I hope to sneak into some of the unbelievably interesting workshops and lectures. My mind is open, and its metabolism is picking up in a way that school sometimes failed to stimulate.