Monday, December 28, 2009



It was I think, 2 weeks ago my mexican family that lives in Pozos took me to their Granja (farm) outside of the town that they have had for about 2 years, growing wheat, alfalfa, tomatoes and squash. They also have numerous animals, pigs and piglets, horses, cows, goats, chickens and turkeys and at the moment mucho abborados (lambs) last count was 30 new bebes. Out of these 30 babies, one is black. Does the mama feed it...............NO. Does the community of lambs accept it ...........NO. Raul the patriarch of this family that I love, feeds it 3 times a day with the proverbial bottle. This poor lost lamb thinks Raul is Mama. Yet at night when all are bedded down with family and warm and toasty together. The black baby sleeps alone and bleats it's lonliness in into the very cold night air.
So I was thinking, (some could say I was transfering) damn what terrible luck to be born alone and unwanted, fed only to be eventually Leg of Lamb for someones Comida. Bada Bing. So on Christmas Eve I hatched this plot, what if I bought the lamblet on the proviso that he could never be sold or roasted, as he was already sold. Today I bought the lamb. He of course does not know how close he came, but I do and it gives me so much pleasure. I am telling you all this because when the penny dropped, I realized this is where" the black sheep of the family" concept comes from. From farming and knowing that animals and most people have a problem accepting what is different and most especially if and when it is black. No I do not have an ax to grind because I am black, I am as Arayn as they come. However, I do have an ax to grind as it were, for all people and animals that are abused because they are different. Viva la difference.

Sunday, December 20, 2009


It seems like years that i have been waiting for Christmas, like a child waiting for Santa.

For years it has been alluding me or so it seems. It has not been in my heart and therefore not available to me.

This year, I found it. It is actually a geographical place. It is in the San Juan de Dios market. Many streets are closed to normal traffic and are full of stands and huts full of Christmas wonderment.
Fir branches, bromalaids , green speckled orchids, moss and the most amazing Creches made of moss and branches, just begging for the holy family. Then there are stalls with ribbon of every color and design, baby Jesus, and all the attendant cast of characters that you can imagine. I love it, it is so innocent and hopeful and so part of what Mexico Christmas is all about: with out Santa and all the attendant Christmas Sales Hustle. Although I am sure that what they sell in this two week period is very important to their ability to feed their families. I want to buy something from everyone, just so it will be worth their while and their dreams. My favorite, is the moss and orchid lady: her wares are everywhere, and now in of all places, in my bathroom. They look best there. Trust me.

I remember my childhood and what I looked forward to and hoped for in Christmas. It was alway Magic or at least the possibilty ot it. I still look forward to that possibilty and promise. It has often alluded me in these more jaded years of innui and and "I am too hip for this riff" bullshit. I want, and have always wanted what I remember about Christmas. When you could look into a shiney christmas ball on the tree and see another world where the family was happy and together and all was Merry and Bright. I remember at the age of 10 or 11 coming down the stairs in the middle of the night to see what my parents or maybe even Santa had left for me and all of us. It was the very esscesne of what Christmas is to me. The light off the tree was of another world, not electric, just the ambiant light of what was in the midnight sky, shiney, extremely quiet and waiting. I stood there wondering what was in all the packages and there was a rush of air past me that I knew in my heart, was the rush of an Angels wings passing thru the room and blessing me with all that I had hoped for then and now. I belive this to be true and I pass this on to all of you with love and the hope that you to feel that rarifed air pass by your life this Christmas. Love, Gayle

Friday, December 18, 2009


From the late fifties I have been in love with Flamenco, having been a dancer most of my life it was an affair of the heart and mind. However, i was terrified of the foot work, knowing it would by my undoing if I attempted it and failed. So, I just loved it and it brought me to tears more often than not in all points of the world where I was magically present when it was .

In 2004 when I came to San Miguel de Allende I was told of a teacher and a dancer that was so incredible that I could not pass on the chance to study with him. So I thru my self in to a very fast moving river that I am still trying to swim into or out of. His name was Antonio (with various last names) For me he was the very essence of what I thought Flamenco is and was and always will be. From the heart, improvisational and always coming from a point of view that was very personal and private.

We became friends, I think, you can never be sure with Gitanos. It seemed genuine because i have never been good at looking into peoples eyes for very long without feeling invaded and/or embarrassed. With Antonio it was sometimes for half an hour and the stories that were told from one to another, were from another time and another place.

I must admit I was entranced, sometimes obsessed and totally mystified. As were my friends who thought I was out of my mind and close to the ever present abyss.

It was and still is hard to present my point of view without censure. What most did not under stand was that I loved him as one does the sunset or the sunrise. It is there. it is amazing and takes you places you can not imagine. But it does not mean a dance with oblivion. It just is and one must honor the moment and the experience.

It is easy to imagine where all that passion could go, but first one must know that he was 34 and I was 69 and for what it is worth, he had a lady and at that time a baby on the way and there was no way I was going into that Arena of betrayal, transgression and madness. and if truth be told, risk the humiliation of sunrise on a body no longer young or desirable in the harsh light of reality. So............friends we were and hopefully remain and I will always be grateful for the dream and the truth of what I experienced in a world that I had always wanted to have in my heart and my life. OLE.......................