Of Love And Other Demons

“There is always something left to love” (from 100 Years of Solitude)

Yesterday Gabriel García Márquez passed away. I’d known for some time that he’d been ill but recently thought he was rallying and was very happy about that. I suppose that it seems strange to feel these things about someone I don’t know at all but I did.

García Márquez’ works aren’t often easy to digest – they have an underlying current of magic and ask you, the reader, to suspend disbelief in order to immerse yourself in worlds so wonderful you have to ask yourself – how does one even think of these things?

Gabo, as he was affectionately called by fans was brilliant. I don’t really think there’s another word that sums up that beautiful mind. I remember being in college, taking a course on his writings that was taught by a professor whose stern countenance softened a little when she talked about the author. I trace my love of his writings back to those moments.

To this day, García Márquez’ books remain on my shelves in both English & Spanish. People often say books lose things in translation, and it’s true – they do, but don’t let that be a hurdle if you’ve never read anything he’s written because they are still lovely. Each and every time I re-read something he’s written I find something new, it’s like being on a literary treasure hunt and actually hitting the X.

So, to the man I never knew but whose words I fell in love with over and over – I hope that your afterlife is as charmed as the one you left behind. Thank you.

Other noted writings bout García Márquez
New York Times

Since You Been Gone

I thought about you and I felt the breath catch in my lungs. Time has been good to me, almost too good – I sometimes feel guilty that I’m not impossibly sad that you’re not here anymore. I sometimes say your name just to hear it – it is bittersweet.

I think about your smile. I think about your laugh. I think about how you let me down. I think about how angry you could make me. I think about your ability to love in spite of. I think about those last minutes; how you were here and then you weren’t anymore.

Yeah, I know life ain’t fair but sometimes the cruelty of it all is almost too much to bear.

To try to make sense of it all would be foolish – I don’t have the answers or the strength to figure it all out. I’m guessing I never will.

Good Enough

The above is my Nook HD. I use it to read books and magazines. I also have a laptop, a touchpad (giant ass tablet), an iphone and an ipod touch. So explain to me why a week ago I was sitting on my couch and trying to decide if I should buy myself a tablet? I’d almost convinced myself in that moment that I should put on some pants and march myself to the Apple store and get an Ipad or maaaaybe I should just go to Best Buy & snag a Nexus 10.

Do I need an Ipad or a Nexus 10? Not. At. All. And so when the delusion ebbed and I came back to real life I kind of laughed at the absurdity of the whole process. My Nook hadn’t suddenly stopped rendering books and magazines, it wasn’t sluggish – there was absolutely nothing wrong with it and yet here I was trying to convince myself that I needed the latest, greatest thing.

One of the dangers of being on the internet all the time is being constantly bombarded with stuff and things. I like stuff and things just as much as the next person (maybe more) but I think there’s something to be sad for being able to recognize how much we have in any given moment and believing that it’s good enough. Good enough doesn’t mean you can’t want more or that you don’t deserve it but it’s understanding that so many people don’t have what you have now and yes, the Iphone 5s is better than the 4, but the 4 works and it’s still a fantastic phone.

So if/when you see me reading on my Nook and you wonder why I don’t have a Kindle or an Ipad – it’s simply because what I have is good enough.