"Bello the foot of the Kodama. The white shoe and pointed"
That's the conclusion I reached after a day running back and forth, when I finally sat in the front row and watched the Japanese girl's foot. I also thought that much of the silver Borges must have been in some other plastic surgery at the pink face of his widow. His mouth does not have botox, yes. It's a fine line, a short, thin line. But no foot surgeries, at least not to my knowledge. And that foot is eternal and thin. Infinity and Millennium. A Japanese girl's foot. A foot that has not been reached by "the large river years.
She spoke and I looked at his boots on in a strange white shoe. Puntiagudo. I thought I saw at the end a small sheet metal, minimum covering acute or giving it more acutely. A silver chain on his ankle me said something that still do not understand. "María Kodama Why wearing a silver chain on his ankle? A minor detail, reserved for those who like me is dedicated to see his feet under a table cloth that does not take long. A table on I was a microphone, a jug of water and a cup from which she drank with her mouth nonexistent.
She spoke of mysticism, Borges, quoted him, making it up. I listened half-occupied in seeing that foot, the shoe, that chain, that ankle. way I am, rarely listen to what is important and I get lost in the details. Embroidered heel shoe that has to be expensive. This foot peach blossom is ageless. This chain is a symbol speaks to me, tell me more of what he says his mouth. His mouth that speaks of Borges.
That's the conclusion I reached after a day running back and forth, when I finally sat in the front row and watched the Japanese girl's foot. I also thought that much of the silver Borges must have been in some other plastic surgery at the pink face of his widow. His mouth does not have botox, yes. It's a fine line, a short, thin line. But no foot surgeries, at least not to my knowledge. And that foot is eternal and thin. Infinity and Millennium. A Japanese girl's foot. A foot that has not been reached by "the large river years.
She spoke and I looked at his boots on in a strange white shoe. Puntiagudo. I thought I saw at the end a small sheet metal, minimum covering acute or giving it more acutely. A silver chain on his ankle me said something that still do not understand. "María Kodama Why wearing a silver chain on his ankle? A minor detail, reserved for those who like me is dedicated to see his feet under a table cloth that does not take long. A table on I was a microphone, a jug of water and a cup from which she drank with her mouth nonexistent.
She spoke of mysticism, Borges, quoted him, making it up. I listened half-occupied in seeing that foot, the shoe, that chain, that ankle. way I am, rarely listen to what is important and I get lost in the details. Embroidered heel shoe that has to be expensive. This foot peach blossom is ageless. This chain is a symbol speaks to me, tell me more of what he says his mouth. His mouth that speaks of Borges.
Maria Kodama is a character in a Borges Borges and Maria Kodama character.
I see that foot and I'm glad I went to see her. Most will give up on the idea while in Jerusalem it was an attack on a block from where I was. A cold penetrated my chest and I said, what sense have anything if we are here today and then we are dust. A what do I care that widow or Borges. The best thing would be shut forever home.
But I was. And I saw his foot. And outside I saw what had happened just a few hours. The city convulsed and I almost see, without seeing anything. Traffic, buses, guards redoubled. All there in that room in front of her were foreign. They knew, but had not been close. There was his foot and his chain. His eyes rare, almost Japanese. Citing Borges. The poems of Borges relieved, are heard on the bad memories, make you forget where you live.
Me I am relieved. I remembered what I love about Borges is his poetry. His "taste for symmetries and slight anachronisms." And why not return to those feet symmetrical and anachronistic.
When it came time for questions, all he had wanted to ask was whether Borges stroked her feet. If she walked with her feet bare on the back of the writer. not ask anything, of course . I think everyone there wanted to ask the same, intimate details of the blind teacher, but only made right questions, correct, important. I listened to the questions of others and regretted not being able to ask questions. Whenever I get lost in the details: a foot, a shoe, a silver chain. Rarely serious and I can ask why I usually keep quiet.
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