now i feel i have yet another thousand words to tell and still have to retrace myself to that day in huacachina with julio. not that these tales are mighty significant but i like to feel i´ve done a sufficient job of the recounting of experiences.

i spent the next day similarily to that evening, in julio´s workshop, fingers working away knotting trails of string. i was buzzing on marijuana and felt intimate with the work my hands were doing, with my internal material, and with the space i was sharing with julio. by now i kind of had him figured out a bit better and felt amused, rather than threatened, by his method of pursuit for physical intimacy. it was that voice., i couldnt take him seriously in his ´character´ of the ´wise spiritual lover´. i drummed, we spoke. he drummed, we spoke. it felt like regardless of the idea i was attempting to get accross to him, what he was giving back was only ever a slightly different angle of one thing. it was clear that sex was on his mind and little else. no matter our position at the birth of an exchange, he managed to redirect the flow to a point where i had to say ´NO´. i dont think he was even conscious of this totally mindless repetition at all. at one point i was even in a fit of laughter at our communication, which exasperated him further because i could not explain why.

often during moments of emotional intimacy between myself and another, which might simply mean sharing ones self on a completely honest and open level, i feel i am experiencing the other person from behind a pane of glass, that there is still something dividing me from the other. i thought of this that afternoon, and wondered if i had ever had an experience with another human being where both of us were experiencing the exact same thing at the exact same time, completely in sync, completely one. i imagine this would be like merging into one light, one beautiful, divine light. sometimes i feel strange when i look in eyes knowing that i dont know how this person is experiencing this moment, that they dont know how i am experiencing this moment. i may feel like i am a spindel, all within me flying, spinning, in reaction to someone else,who is solid, who is not reacting with me. but also i have moments where my ego feels tiny, miniscule, and plays almost no part in an exchange, or my reaction. then i dont wonder about the eyes, i dont feel that strange lurch of suddenly becoming aware that i am not who i am looking at. then i am flexible, then dancing with all things my partner. then i am not aware of any divisions... this was brought to my mind because i think the idiomatic barriers amplify this sensation of being completely somewhere else when someone´s right in front of me.

i was prodding the web of words and expression as energy was exchanged between us as we spoke, with curiosity. there was some unspoken, and spoken, resistance, but i was approaching the situation with a sense of humor and didnt feel drained by it, at least.
the sun had already began it´s descent before i even realized the entire day had passed in that little room and i hadnt even eaten lunch.

i often wonder how it seems i have managed to manifest this pattern. its not like its uncommon to get pursued by local men here being a single white female, no matter what you look like, but i still feel like this must be due to something in my energetic makeup.
what confuses me is, i think, ok, in all these situations, i feel like i am being given something i wish for, an enriching experience. why does it seem to always come with a cost in the end? and what am i giving back? is this a balanced exchange? i think about how in each case what is wanted of me is to give my physical body,which makes me wonder of course...well, is that right? and is there something i might learn if i open my legs to this guy?! is it possible this is a positive opportunity the universe is giving me to join with another and explore love on the physical plane? i struggle to reconcile my physical and spiritual aspects of existence, and often i feel the two divide me, that they are not one in the same. is there something wrong with me? as i write this it looks so ridiculous. i think i only ask this, and question my own truth, because i instinctively want to adapt and be, fill the shape which is being presented to me.

that evening he had to work at one of the restaurants on the lake front. i felt he was very generous in letting me stay as long as i´d like in his workshop, allowing me complete access to all his things, encouraging me to continue drumming and creating. he was to be off around 10. all day he´d been trying to convince me to sleep in the desert with him, that we could create our own celebration (it was the week of harvest festival in ica) in honor of mother earth, so i had the visual of him and i in the windy, expansive dunes, chanting and drumming, dancing, drinking a bottle of wine. i told him there was no way i was going to sleep in the desert with him, but i was attracted to the other idea.
i´ve discovered my ´tribal´voice. when i am in an isolated spot, i like to sing, spontaneously forming shapes of sounds with no literal meaning. this is my true language. this is a universal language. sometimes they sound like chants, sometimes softer. i feel the rythym and my body yearns to be one with the music, swaying or in more abrupt form, like physical stocato. sometimes it makes me want to weep. i want my own drum so i can combine the two expressions. i want a grand celebration of being!
so julio and i loosely agreed to meet each other at his restaurant later on in the evening.
i gave his didgeridoo another try but could only manage a few pathetic squirts of sound, gave that up, and started feeling a little cooped up having been in that tiny room all day, so i left and layed on a dune for a while, in front of a cluster of trees, electric trees, i could see their colored sparks flying in streaks of light, faint, but something definitely seen. up into the sky.
around 1030 i was waving hello to julio as he swiped away crumbs with a rag on one of the patio tables at the restaurant. he wouldnt be off until everyone had left, and there were still several tables chatting, eating, and drinking. he invited me in though, and i ordered a beer. moments later he introduced me to two friends who had just walked up, one of them i had met the previous night, and the two men joined me at my table. so as the evening rolled on, i ended up having a fantastic time drinking beer with these two pretty eccentric, gay (i think) men who were celebrating jimmy´s birthday, while julio was swooning some other white chick at the table next to mine! what a dink! then i knew he probably just about had his whole spheel scripted, as i overheard snippets of their conversation-oh, i could show you a few pointers if you´d like (yoga) oh really? only 15 minutes to learn how to make that? (bracelet) and him quoting osho and whatnot, blahblah. i was thoroughly enjoying myself, and i got the feeling that the unexpected company (of i) made jimmys birthday evening feel a little bit more special to him. he was a little different, and i dont think he often recieves very warm attention from many people. so julio and i never spoke another word to each other, he left with that woman, and the three of us were the last to leave the restaurant, at that point drunk and dancing with oneanother to the live samba drifting our way across the lagoon. we danced all the way down to the source of music, which was catering to some kind of family social event of old people and one woman on the dance floor waved us over. she was clearly drunk also and having a pretty good time. we have an invitation! i yelled. so i grabbed whatwashisname and we were both shaking our stuff there, me in bare feet, laughing and ecstatic, until one real sour old lady comes up to me and goes, who invited you, and i pointed to the lady who waved us over and i said she did! and she just shook her sour old face at me and was trying to get the other lady to stop dancing with my friend, i´m guessing it had something to do with our appearances? i felt really affected by it and wanted to leave right away, i pretended not to feel hurt by it, i laughed some more and motioned that we leave. so they walked me back to my hostal where they caught a taxi back to ica.

the next day i was in paracas.
i feel a little bit silly, the last i´d written i´d had the date wrong, and on the morning of the 15th, i was thinking it was my birthday. it wasn´t until i looked at my bus ticket to the nasca that afternoon that in fact i would still be 20 for another day.