hoy fue un feliz dia para mi no hay nada mas importante que hacer feliz a alguien, cuando eso pasa creo que el dia fue exitoso, Hoy me complaci tratando de volver a ser niña con mi pequeña ,de jugar con ella a las princesas de dejar que busque cosas en el jardin y en el parque de frente a casa, subir en los arboles buscar animalitos, colectar ojitas, caminar y mirar ,Dayi mandaba, me satisface dedicarle tiempo, verla, para perpetuar su imajen inocente de sus 4 años, cuando hago eso yo soy como ella, siento la metamorfosis que corre por mis venas de madre artista a madre simplemente lo mas importante y que en el vivir como niños esta la verdad sin antojos, sin posturas, viviendo atenta a lo mas pequeño, a lo mas dulce a ese respirar qie no se puede retener a ese momento esfimero pero perfecto, al no tener que buscar quien soy porque se bien de donde vengo y a donde voy porque en ella se hace perfecto el mundo,no se necesita mas solo el amor perfecto de una pequeña. pobres los que no supieron ni aprendieron a disfrutar esto. no necesito mas identidad soy madre.
Today it was a happy day for me. there is nothing more important to make happy to anybody, when that happens I believe that the day was successful, Today I took pleasure trying to be a girl, I playing with her the princesses of leaving that I looked for things in the garden and in the park straight ahead to house, to raise in the trees to look little animal, to collect leaf , to walk and to look, Dayi was in charge, it satisfies me to dedicate time, to see her, to perpetuate his innocent imajen of his 4 years old, when I do that I am like , I feel the metamorphosis artist from mother simply the most important thing and that in living as child, without positions, living attentive to the smallest thing, to the most sweet thing, to breathing that one qie, it is not possible to retain to this moment ,esfimero but perfectly, to not to have to look who I am because well wherefrom I come and to where I go because in her the world becomes perfect, there is not needed more only the perfect love of the small one.I do not need any more identity to be a mother.
hello friends, several days without coming somewhere here, yesterday I began to refleccion and to look in my old folders of drawings, paintings and colografi and I remembered the pretty moments of student in my small art school ,of many exhibitions realized in my small tow in Cuba, I ended up by reading a book that does a covered of the history and chronology of the plastic arts in Holguin, Cuba.I read that Canelles and Fausto Christ died they are teachers of sculpture.
Others have gone away, others keep on receiving medals as usual in communist countries. Others doing handmade paper.I missin my friends ,especially Magalys she is very special we study in the same school and we did many exhibitions together.Yesterday re-organize my workshop I want to recapture a stage of work the soft sculptures motivate myself more the page of resurection fern ,Margaret speaks about womens that they were weaving long time ago and I don`t do it for 11 years no at least in big dimentions. believe that she has an interesting idea in Cuba even in this time they do trading: you give me a lamb I give you a few shoes, you weave an overcoat I pay to you with species, you bring to me a digital camera from usa I give you a work of art. I remember the term Margaret.
hello friends!!! today I introduce to Dayi 'sfriends it was the last game of baseboll of Eduardo and Sevastian, she love them very much and She was very happy to see them playing. They are Veronica's children my best friend, more than friend my sister, we visit the same church, they muve in the summer for El Paso that we are going to miss.
Hello this is Dayi my youngest daughter she is 4 years old is a girl with great mature here this one in the birthday of a child of the church she enjoys everything ........this is my daughter along with Dayi, her name is Judith she is 24 years old I love my two daughters.judy liked drawing even I have Judy`s drawings when she have 6 or 8 years old, for me it is a big treasure.
the first big love, her father is for every girl, I remember when I was looking at his photo in the wall of grandmother`s living room there was no another more beautiful.......... this prince was my father ........ loved it with passion of fall in love girl , the photo could see him from the dimencion of a 3-year-old girl as unattainable ............I think that for me this prince it even is there ......... as arrested in the time and the space ......... untouchable .......... my father died February 11 in Cuba I could not be with,
when I knew of his death, they had buried him. I love my father.
I still remember his first present: I think that it was never known all that loves and all that I remember this little bag full of candys , it was a simple gift, but it was very special.
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