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Bet Yet the smile chords and melodies

Yesterday when I turned on the radio first suspected it and after few minutes I heard and I was actually a very deep sense of sadness. Surprise because you installed as an echo and it takes some time until it fades. Always disturbs, especially when it comes to death.

Now what do I do with this? Who do I share?

Those who live alone need invisible friends to help us to overcome the moment of shock.

Jorge Guinzburg He died, good person, intelligent, young man. His profession: the humor, creativity together with human beings differ from other beings.

face of death becomes a solemn and cries. Because life is like a beautiful and delicate bottle that eventually will be broken, inevitably. And yet, its contents, far from being out, remains as a reminder.

And if you break a bottle filled with love, laughter and talent will be spread everywhere.

Jorge Guinzburg He died ... and yet the smile.

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memories, chords,
agreements and the warmth comes from the heart



born when the world was brand new and blessed with the gift of LIFE. Then it was spring and abundant garden beautiful creatures, especially birds, singing beautiful melodies.
met his first and great love at a young age and was considered the paradigm of the WOMAN.
For a long time was the only one in the garden, and so was accustomed to giving orders without anyone to contradict it occurred to him, but he did so with warmth, the chord and the agreement always flowed from his heart.
Listen as the birds sang sweetly in unison and that caused her great charm. He decided to imitate them, and he began to sing with joy, at the beginning alone, and as they appeared other women came up to organize the first women's choral group, which called Gathering of Stars in nature, ie, the Choir of Eden .
Indeed, their voices shone like jewels, diamonds, perhaps. But something was still missing, were the male line. So he convinced his love to join the choir and so did he and other men of that impending family.
Now the chorus sounded different and even the birds were silent to listen. They wondered who would be intrigued Grand Master, Director of the Choir of Eden, then discovered it was the same who had taught them to sing, which was created as air, water, earth and fire.
On one occasion he whispered in his ear NOT LET THE SONG and Eve continued to sing, alone or accompanied with the same joy with which it has been doing for 80 years.
Congratulations! Up to 120!
Or rather, to 100, as 20!

For Eva lovingly
Flavia, your fellow choir.

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A place in Buenos Aires



I gave birth a day in the summer, I cradled with lyrics María Elena Walsh and me to nurse the baby warm milk.
Tango said that 20 years is nothing, but at that age I moved to another country where I lived for a time and as always returns to first love, I was back here ten years later. That's when I discovered, Buenos Aires do so magical!. Your streets, your streets, your libraries, your theater and your coffee. Either is a good excuse to make a stop on the road and take a coffee, look out the window, watching people, listen to pervade your smell and your taste.
And at home, my faithful companion, the radio. She provides its air and very cool. Listening to the radio I discovered one of the legends of Buenos Aires, mythical place, if any, the Café Tortoni, and to him I dedicate my homage because when I am there I feel moved in time, surrounded by an atmosphere steeped in art, sensitivity and creativity.
In the distance I can see sitting at a table Alfonsina Storni, Borges and Gardel as witnesses to this heritage belongs to us. The Tortoni is timeless
appeals equally to adults and teens, penetrates the sensitive skin. Someone
12 years once told me: "I like this place because it shows that educated people are coming." I shuddered thinking how art awareness from an early age, and does so in all its manifestations. Art as a flame lights up, that gives warmth and sheltering in its midst all those who nurtured us from it.
What I can tell you, Old Tortoni, who has not already been said by the poet?
Not even the weather gets that pass through your door will not stop me. I go, I sit and when I ask for the letter read the following lines "... Despite the rain I went out for coffee, I'm sitting tight and wet canopy of this old Tortoni known." FT


dedicated to Café Tortoni (a place in Buenos Aires)