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Christine Bottaro's Blog

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Jul.01.2012
reflectionwindow.jpg
  June just ended, and now it's July.  I am awake. It's dark outside, very quiet. Inside, the house is making its contented sounds:  A ticking clock, whirring refrigerator, a fly randomly crashing into the window pane with a quiet "tock." Fingertips on the keyboard are soft pats and...
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Apr.11.2012
I'm alive! Yes ma'am! And thank you, ladies who came before me, for that.  I breathe, I move, I dance, I sing. I'm alive. But, wait. How'd that happen? Here inside the very modern me is an energy that has existed - had to have - since the exact beginning of life itself. And the life force...
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Sep.07.2011
    The gray, somber, ever-present fog clung to the coast north and south as far as our eyes could see. As we looked down the last stretch of Highway 1 and saw wispy shreds of the fog yielding to blue sky and warm sun, our spirits lifted. Ah, there's Big Sur, a cup of loveliness sheltered...
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Aug.17.2011
  The world between what is seen and known and the unseen and barely known, explored by the imagination and prompted by a curious spirit, pricks the conscious mind and tugs at the heart. There it is, and is not, a timeless space of dimensionless being. It exists, more than anywhere else...
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Jul.11.2011
So, as my luck would have it, Coach Mark got up his dander and arranged for a "swim clinic" four days a week, held at the Hartnell College's 50 meter pool. The clinic runs for six weeks. At 6 AM, I gather up my swim stuff, then out to the car for the half-hour drive to the pool. It's...
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Jun.27.2011
Two feet below my nose is a long black bug - like a stretch-limo fly - strolling around on a plant. The bug - iridescent blue and pinched at the waist - can walk around upside down as well as it can right side up. It is possibly the first time in my life I have ever seen such a bug, but I don't...
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Jun.25.2011
Some people begin life on a dazzling trajectory that never sags into swamps of disappointment or dejection, but most of us swerve and falter a few times once we are shot out of life's cannon.  Things go haywire, we get hurt or sick, we lose loved ones or bad guys really seem to be winning.  Life...
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Jun.14.2011
I went to the DeYoung Museum in San Francisco on Sunday.  That's not really my point, but that's where I'll start. I went to see the Picasso exhibit.  It's a timid approach to a very forceful subject:  A man who was a force of nature by the look of it.     Picasso lived for a long time, 94 years I...
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Jun.07.2011
I arrive home and can't tell what day it is anymore. Could be Saturday, but most likely it's Sunday. Local time is 2 a.m., says the clock, but that hardly means a thing.  I am tired, feeling like I have half my body in today and the other in both yesterday and tomorrow. It's a weird feeling of...
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Jun.03.2011
This is the last day we have in Provence, so we set out to lose ourselves in the heart of it. We map a route that will take us to three little villages, three of 150 designated most beautiful villages in France, according to our little map. (We are using a map supplied by the Tourist Information...
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Jun.02.2011
The sun has left Provence. The air is chilled by a chugging cold wind. We don't know what to think and ask the monsieur at the desk of our hotel what to expect. He shrugs, sends his lower lip out and raises his eyebrows - all this indicates, "Who knows," but in a way that also indicates...
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Jun.01.2011
In the middle of the night, right outside our hotel grounds, there is a cackling, grunting creature that begins calling loudly. We have no idea what it is and have wracked our brains trying to imagine what it could be. Maybe devil bird with a microphone and sound system, a Tasmanian Devil run amok...
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Jun.01.2011
It's Monday morning, and we are eating outside on the gravel-covered terrasse under the spreading mulberry trees at our country hotel. It is quiet, peaceful and larks are fluting in the trees.  Eventually, we brush off our croissant crumbs (creating a little snow storm of crust bits because the...
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May.30.2011
 Wait, where am I?   I wake up in the middle of the night after dreaming about accordions and rocky hillsides. Did I dream about being the middle of a huge outdoor marketplace in an ancient town in Provence called Isle sur la Sorgue? No, it was real, but it seems so long ago now. Traveling is...
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May.29.2011
It's time to pack up and leave Paris. At last I'm going to Provence, something I've waited to do for years. It's the mediterranean allure that attracts so many, a sensual, historically rich region that is really calling me. I'm excited not only about the travel ahead but that I've gone through a...
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