Last night's party one of those perfect events where everything is so memorable, in focus and one is aware of the specialist at the time and place, it was perfect harmony.
Lourdes sang my poem, Horseflesh, with an effortless beautiful voice. It was very moving, the song is included in Jorge Luján's Espectaculo, mine is the only one in English. Also included were poems set to music by e.e. cummings T.S. Eliot and John Simon. What a lineup.
I gave María Engracía the Chichén Itzá book of photos of the Museum of Anthropology. I should send her some other larger prints. Alberto Blanco liked his photo, even with the lampshade halo over his head. When we return from Guatemala, I will do more for him possibly for an upcoming book photo.
John and I decided not to go to Belize after a Belize Airlines plane from Argentina crashed into Mexico City, killing 40 people on the ground, its cargo was 18 horses. Polo ponies. 14 horses were killed outright, one died later. Another was found grazing on the embankment, but he was so badly injured, he was put to sleep. I am haunted by dreams of horses falling from the sky.
Meanwhile in Mecca, nearly 700 pilgrim pilgrims were killed. The Iranian pilgrims burned an American flag, and the Saudi police fired into the crowd. Getting the news is rough these days.
I gave Monica Monsour a copy of Carolyn Forché's Gathering the Tribes, and I gave Alberto Blanco a copy of Robert Hass's Praise and I gave Jorge some new e.e. cummings books. Something of my homeland.
The wines I bought from Sonoma County, we drank last night. Jorge Vallejo, the archaeologist, Maria Engracía's husband, was very appreciative. I love great men, we chatted about anthropology for quite some time, and he was very good at explaining Spanish idioms to me. It was a sublime Spanish lesson.
It is much easier for me to speak Spanish when the other person has a few words of English to help me out and to correct me, it also helps if I'm a little bit drunk. The words come easier.
August 4, 1987
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