I have walked these beat up cobblestone streets for almost 2 years now. As I have stated before, it is safest to look down when walking. It’s pretty easy to get snagged on a loose or projected cobblestone and fall on your butt, or on your side, or head first. If it happens and you are walking fast, you could go flying. If it happens slowly, you stand a chance.
My eyes wander as I walk and look down and that brings back memories of walking on the beach when I was a kid and searching for anything living that was beautiful that I could take home. Where the heck does that come from? I do remember the shock taking home starfish. I soon found out they dried up, smelled pretty bad and rotted away. How come I didn’t know they were dead when I collected them? Of course I should have known there was a difference between dead ones on the sand and low surf and live ones clinging to rocks that I could not pry away without a crowbar. It’s called an early education I guess. That’s life when you are nine.
So here we go with angels flying around tempting me with stories and events that happened, never happened, or could possibly have happened. When they are building something here in Mexico, such as houses or apartments, and since just about everything construction-wise is done by hand, the process is slow, very slow. I’ve only seen one or two backhoes since I’ve been here, There are big dump trucks with sand running around all the time. There are also big trucks with rocks: big rocks. I hold my breath every time I see them flying down the Libramiento, going way too fast. I pray they will slow down and I pray they don’t lose their brakes. It has happened and a few of these big babies have landed across the caraterra right into the walmart parking lot.
I often wonder where all the rocks came from. If you go up to the mountains you can really see the land formations and it’s all about big tan, yellow and sometimes red rocks. They are sharp and not worn down. It looks like a giant’s fun puzzle that once was something…but now just busted pieces of history we don’t know anything about. I was told this whole area is rock. We are surrounded by remains of the days when Mt. Garcia used to spew lava for a long time. I can just see the earth stretching up and cracking and groaning while it spit out lava and swallowed living things who got caught in its way.
When the trucks tear up the narrow cobblestone streets, they also smash anything left unprotected in their path. Ha ha God has ordained me to pick up these pieces of wire which at one time were a part of something and are now smashed flat by being ground and flattened by all the construction traffic. Every damned one is different so of course my hands are attracted to them like a magnet, and I just have to pick them up. They have personalities, just like people.
The above photo shows the newest collection and the very beginnings. The last photo is the latest and believe it or not, these smashed wires have not lost their quality . The new ones are just as good as the old ones. When time allows, I will make them into mobiles, or film their shadows as they slowly turn from my ceiling.
Here’s some new ones. Feast your little eyes and just imagine how they look like animals, other things, and of course, people.
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