TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations & other curiosities :: profile 12.30.06, saturday afternoon From Africa to Europe; from that lovely arid warm country to this lovely rainy cold country; from cloudless skies & smog-shrouded mountains to vast silvery vistas of hail & rain; from Rilke on solitude & Edward Said on "Yeats & Decolonisation" to all of Tolkien & Proust's � la recherche du temps perdu; from the medina's exhaustive, exhausting interior to village streets emptied of all save the odd well-groomed dog; from too much smog & anarchic traffic in Marrakech to light wandering on the wall from a car passing thru; from storks nesting atop minarets & cattle egrets amidst the shepherds to the hens of my neighbor who has lived here all her long life; from cacti hedgerows, shanty towns & mass roadworks to barbed hedgerows bald of berry, real estate signs, & Sunday drivers; from a skull crossboned by wrenches in a taxi in Tangier & overcrowded grande taxis to this or that city to our little white Peugeot van grumbling in the icy morning; from croissants, little coils of butter, eggs slow-fried in olive oil, jus d'orange, fat dates, olives & bananas in our hotel room to cheesy baked bean potato bakes, muesli, cottage cheese, miso soups & every last morsel we can scrounge; from that last bitter drop of Moroccan wine to the first ruby glass of sloe gin jarred in October; from not-thinking-ahead but tracing circles "There is nothing like returning to a place
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