“The Language of Silence: An Elegy to Nothingness”

February 3, 2025

(A Prose Poem)

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Andreina Teresa Morín Tortolero [1955-2025]

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_

She will come to me . . . not being incarnated;

She will not appear in her own image;

I see and feel her voluble spirit,

and I also see her sans arguments, or advice

in the resonance of her heart upon mine.

~

She comes to me in an endless flow of memories quieting her absence.     

You return to me in every heartbeat . . .    

There is no light nor shadow, nor color nor texture.     

There is no pain in the embrace of uncertainty.     

~

Our coexistence ceases to exist;

the rancor of fear departs as the idea takes us in.     

Pain turns silent, emptied of guilt and regret.     

Though your lungs exhale not,

I feel the breath of your longing in search of union.  

    ~

I understand better your inexorable faith,

with no sting of doubt.     

Resentment held no place, the frankness of your soul loved everything.     

I feel you in my chest, tight with not seeing you     

I see you in the resonance of your mind upon mine.

*

Pain shatters my chest,

I am dying as well,

I fear the very meanness of not accepting

your dignified and glorious absence.

~

How can one ponder eternal love

without knowing eternity,

I do not understand and tears choke me.

~

Eternity is a story we tell ourselves

from our first appearance.     

Before, we were nothing

and nothingness impregnated us with clumsiness

to create stories that console our finitude.

~     

We are nothing,

and to nothing we return.

~

I believe in the goddess of love

for she sustains me,

but immortality and eternity do not depend on her.     

Abstraction is a pretense that believes it heals itself.

~

Confuse reality not with abstraction,

if you know nothing;

unconsciousness is soaked in the unjustifiable.     

Contradiction is the palpable reality,

Humility and neutrality do not exist:     

and are not controllable.  

  ~ 

Intelligence is a tool of fiction.     

We are nothing.

~

Words of comfort ruminate me and my feelings,

they assume compassion for filling the void     

Yet compassion, like humility, can

not boast of itself.     

They come from nothing

and are nothing.

~

The feelings of death arise in old age,

our fragility is tangible.     

“If newly born, what do you know of old age?”     

How can we boast …      even if for the best of reasons!

~

Words can evoke the void of silence,

yet they remain a pretense.

~

Silence is deeper than declarations.     

Listen to silence, filled with nothingness.     

Yet, an energy that’s unchangeable, immutable.     

Persistence is yet another vanity,

a desire to accumulate the unsustainable.     

Parallels are paradoxical, yet real.

*

Ricardo Federico Morín Tortolero,

Oakland Park, Fl. 5:00 am, 3 de Feberero de 2025

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

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(A Poem written by our mother, María Teresa Tortolero Rivero, English translation by this author, and read by Andreina in Spanish)


GREATNESS YOU BESTOWED UPON MY SPIRIT

[July 1979]

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Greatness you bestowed upon my spirit
for the whole world rests upon my bosom
though in sadness I stray
in vain attempts to redeem my heart.

As pariah in a desert
in my migrant existence
I feel the prick of painful thorns.
and the corrosive doubt of uncertainty.

My home’s encumbered by the punching of loneliness
only absence occupies it.
Why have you forsaken me?
Why so much cruelty?
If born to love
when for love’s sake
I wish to be faithful.

In Memoriam Andreina Teresa

~

We, the Morín Tortolero siblings:      Alberto José, Ricardo Federico, María Teresa, and José Galdino, deeply regret to announce to our family and friends the heartfelt passing of our beloved sister

ANDREINA TERESA MORÍN TORTOLERO

November 10, 1955 – February 2, 2025

*

Here, Andreina was among friends and relatives between Valencia, Venezuela in 2024 and her last visit to Broward and Dade Counties in Florida, January 2024,

 “The Human Condition”

January 18, 2025

 *

 

 

Ascension 3, 2005 CGI by Ricardo Morin

Introduction

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In a world where we often demand certainty and control, we find ourselves fragmented, trapped in boxes of our own making, unable to embrace the fullness of our existence.    The image before you captures this tension: a body suspended in a delicate scaffold, exposed yet bound, vulnerable yet distant.    The crimson red that pulses through this figure’s radiography mirrors the emotional intensity of our internal conflicts—irrational beliefs, loneliness, and the distortion of our own feelings.    Here, we find a body that is both present and absent, much like the self we attempt to control through rigid dogmas, unfounded convictions, or the false security of unquestioned assumptions.

 

Such beliefs, pervasive in religion, politics, and culture, offer a semblance of control in a world we cannot fully comprehend.    Yet, they often bind us more tightly than we realize; they lead us away from self-compassion and deeper understanding.    We cling to them as anchors as we seek certainty, but in doing so, we only isolate ourselves further and obscure the possibility of transformation and healing.    Just as the body remains whole, though fragmented, so too can we find healing by letting go of the illusions that distort our sense of self.

 

This image invites you to reflect on the tension between our desires for control and the reality of our emotional vulnerability.    Our human condition urges a return to the boy, to ourselves, and to the truth of being—free from the distortions that prevent us from embracing the raw authenticity of life.

 

Section I

 

Irrationality

*

 

Ignorance is an essential condition of our existence, despite our hubristic desire to control knowledge.    We are like travelers in a dense fog as we glimpse shadows of trees that seem both near and far—each step reveals something new while obscuring what we thought we understood.    This fog invites exploration, not eradication, as its presence reminds us that certainty is an illusion.    The moment we attempt to dispel it entirely—to demand certainty and mastery—we reject the depth and richness of uncertainty and trade it for the rigidity of shallow, dogmatic beliefs.    To embrace this uncertainty is to accept the vastness of what remains unknown:    that which liberates us from the paralysis of false clarity.

 

Section II

 

The Transformative Power of Love and Self-Compassion

*

 

Love has the power to heal wounds unseen, but it is first a seed within oneself.    When nurtured, this seed grows into an awareness of the shared fragility of existence—the recognition that no one is immune to suffering.    Consider the quiet solidarity in a kind word offered to a stranger, the unspoken bond formed in moments of shared grief, or the simple grace of forgiving someone else’s faults, while knowing your own are equally imperfect.    These acts remind us that we are not isolated in our suffering but connected through it.    In acknowledging this interconnectedness, we cultivate a compassion that transcends individuality.    It allows us to honor the humanity in others as we learn to honor it in ourselves.

 

Section III

 

Aloneness Versus Loneliness

*

 

Think of aloneness as your defining character, a realm where your thoughts and feelings can exist unfiltered, untouched by comparison.    Loneliness, however, emerges when this solitude becomes an echo chamber of unmet desires, a distortion that amplifies the absence of external validation into a consuming need.    To perceive aloneness as loneliness is to conflate a natural state with an unhealthy yearning, much like mistaking silence for emptiness.    Aloneness offers clarity, a space to reflect and grow, while loneliness, though painful, can teach us where we most need to nurture ourselves.    By reframing loneliness as a symptom rather than a sentence, we can transform it into an opportunity for self-understanding.

PostScript

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As I reflect on the journey of these ideas, I’m reminded of a time nearly 16 years ago when I found solace in the writings of Jiddu Krishnamurti, a spiritual teacher my mother had studied in my younger years.    His ideas, like Buddhism before it, served as a preamble—a glimpse into a deeper understanding that I did not fully grasp until later in life.    It was only in my fifties, after embracing writing as a form of creative expression, that I began to unravel the layers of truth hidden within his words.

During this period, my editor, with whom I shared my growing interest in Krishnamurti, referred to him as a “kook”—a label that seemed to reflect the contradictions inherent in Krishnamurti’s philosophy.    My admiration for both Krishnamurti and my editor was marked by an internal conflict.    I struggled to reconcile the imperfections I saw in both of them with my own sense of integrity and independence.    In time, I came to understand that their imperfections were no different from my own—and that the wisdom I sought was not in their perfection, but in the very acceptance of imperfection itself.

This acceptance allowed me to learn from both of them while retaining my own autonomy, a reminder that growth comes not from flawless certainty, but from the ability to navigate contradiction and complexity.    Just as we can find truth in our own imperfect understanding, so too can we extend compassion to others:    to acknowledge that their contradictions are part of the shared human experience.

In this journey, I’ve learned that the tension between certainty and uncertainty is not something to resolve but something to live with—a space where self-compassion and wisdom can grow, imperfect though they may be.

Ricardo F Morin Tortolero, January 18, 2025, Oakland Park, Florida.

Editor, Billy Bussell Thompson, February 14, 2025, New York City.

“The Fetters of Power”

January 14, 2025

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Introduction

Power, in its rawest form, bends and distorts.    It reflects the body depicted in Ascension as it strains against the scaffolding of controland embodies the turbulent forces we inhabit.[1]    These elements frame a reflection not only on Venezuela’s struggles but on the universal gravity of power that entraps us all.    I wonder if blaming these forces oversimplifies a system thriving on collective complicity.    Can self-compassion hold us accountable without succumbing to guilt—when despair paralyzes?

Positioned between The Stream of Emery, a fable of renewal, and Unmasking Disappointment, an upcoming essay on historical reckoning, this story continues a journey through entanglement, responsibility, and the enduring search for self-liberation.[2]

~

THE FETTERS OF POWER

I

While my husband drove from Fort Lauderdale to Orlando, I had a conversation with my friend BBT.    It was one of those unsettling conversations that reveals how vast forces can overwhelm us.    He spoke of power, not as a tool, nor even as a desire, but as the primal force that pushes humanity toward authoritarian oligarchies.    Greed, according to him, is secondary, a symptom of something deeper:    the irresistible gravity of power itself.

II

I thought of Michel Foucault and his theories on power, and for a moment, I felt a flash of clarity.     But the more I tried to articulate his ideas, the more inadequate they seemed.        The weight of reality crushes academic musings as the world descends into ruin.      We fail to recognize ourselves as creatures trapped by our own errors.

III

Then, I remembered my cousin Ivelisse’s voice, trembling while holding back tears, as she recounted Nicolás Maduro’s inauguration, January 10.     For her, it was not just a political event; it was a symbol of our fall, of our dissolution as a people.     Her despair was mine, and ours was Venezuela’sa nation habitually entrusting faith in saviors who never arrive.

IV

Across the world, power and greed—legitimized by crime or not—justify the rise of tyranny.   And we, in our confusion, have no answers in the face of these tides of unchecked ambition.

 V

BBT, ever pragmatic, said simply:   “Just enjoy yourself.”    His advice both stung and comforted me.   But how could I?    How could I enjoy anything when the world feels so fragile?   Every thought circles back to the same questions:   What can I do to counteract these forces?    How can I make sense of this struggle?

 VI

Still, I cling to one belief:  that one day, a collective awakening will emerge, a rising tide of awareness.   If there is to be a better world, it will not come from saviors or struggles for power, but from an alignment of minds and hearts.   My role, if I have one, is to contribute to that legacy—not for fame or ambition, but for peace.

 VII

Peace is what I seek, not only for myself but for others: a legacy that transcends my own life, one that serves as a quiet resistance to the forces of greed and power.    Only then, perhaps, will I find the simplicity BBT spoke of—not as surrender, but as understanding.

Postscript

It is easy to lose sight of the deeper currents that drive us, particularly when we are immersed in the tides of ambition, power, and cynicism.     In moments of crisis, these forces surge, often obscuring our judgment and steering us off course.     Yet, amidst their overwhelming presence, one truth remains:     surrendering to love sustains us.

Ultimately, what really matters is love.    It alone sustains us above all else.    It can anchor us against the forces that threaten to lead us astray.

Perhaps with that recognition is where peace begins—not in the world outside or its lack of validation, but in the quiet acceptance of what we can change, and what we cannot.

~

Endnotes:

[2]   Ricardo Morín, “The Stream of Emery,” WordPress, December 29, 2024, https://observationsonthenatureofperception.com/2024/12/29/the-stream-of-hermes/

 

Ricardo F. Morin Tortolero, January 14, 2025; Oakland Park, Florida.

Billy Bussell Thompson, February 14, 2025, New York City

“The Stream of Emery”

December 29, 2024

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Ricardo Federico Morín Tortolero, Oakland Park, Fl.   December 29, 2024
How to walk consciously in the delicate balance between intellectual neutrality and personal vulnerability?

Dedicated to Billy Bussell Thompson and David Lowenberger

In a village at the edge of a forest lived a woman named Elen.   From early on, a great disquiet stirred within her.

Piecing together fragments of others’ insights, she took refuge in books and scrolls.   With every answer uncovered, more questions remained.

“Elen, why do you never rest?” her neighbors asked as they watched her pace the village paths.

“Because something is calling to me,” she replied.  “I feel a purpose, a truth . . . .   But I don’t know where to look.”

One day, a pilgrim named Damian came to the village.   His eyes illuminated him and news of his arrival spread quickly.    Elen was eager to know him.

She led him to her study and pointed out her books and maps.

“I’ve been devoted to research,” as she gestured toward the shelves.    “But the more I look, the more incomplete I feel.   I’m filled with desire, shame . . . .   I long for peace.   I thought knowledge would complete me.   Instead, something is missing.   How did explorers of old find their voice?”

Damian glanced at her and replied.   “You treat knowledge as shackles.   It’s only a touchstone; what you need is instinct.”

Elen frowned uncertainly.    “What do you mean?”

“Come with me,” he said.

They walked into the valley and the air grew cooler with each step.   Above them, eagles circled:  their cries, sharp but distant.   She kept silent; her mind turned Damian’s words over, and over.

They reached a clearing.   At its center stood an ancient tree, whose branches reached toward the heavens and its roots gripped the earth.     There murmured a stream with glinting waters.

“This,” said Damian, “is the Stream of Emery.   Its waters hold the substance of all things:  truth, blinding; mystery, ever deepening; illusion, tempting; wisdom, changing.   Anyone who partakes may glimpse his destiny, though, he is often more adrift than before.”

As if spellbound, Elen knelt and gazed into the stream.    “Why would anyone willingly submit to abandonment?”

Damian picked up a leaf and floated it on the water.   The current swept it downstream and spun it in lazy circles until it vanished.   “Knowledge flows like this stream,” he said, his eyes on the water.   “Chase every ripple, and you’ll only drift farther from yourself; the answers are not in the stream, but in how you move up to it.”

Elen felt the stream’s coolness luring her.   One thought held her.   “How am I to be guided by instincts? she asked, her voice scarcely audible over the rippling water.

“Look at the tree,” Damian replied.

She turned to it.  

“The tree doesn’t chase the water,” he said.    “It takes only what it needs and grows; though static, it’s always reaching.   Its trust is in its roots.”

Again, Elen peered at the tree.    “If the tree knows it’s a tree,” she said, “how can I trust myself, if I don’t know what my instinct is?”

“Purpose,” said Damian, “cannot be found.   It forms over time.   Just as the tree is, you have to be anchored, and your branches have to reach toward your destiny.”

Elen looked at him:    “What do you mean?”

Damian pointed to the stream:  Leaves were floating along; at times they clustered together; then they diverged.    “Mankind is a mirror of reciprocity.    In harmony or in enmity, in sickness or in health, in poverty or in wealth, we see ourselves through others.    The stream is not just water:  it is a current of shared lives, fragile or strong.    Only by engaging with others do you know who you are and what you are to be.”

Elen thought about her village:   the kindnesses and quarrels she had shared with neighbors, the ways their stories and struggles had shaped her.  Now, she saw how books had consumed her.

“Am I to seek truth outside of myself?” she asked.

Damian smiled.   “Yes, no one can carry the stream alone; peace comes from being together.   It grows when we acknowledge that lives are bound.”

Elen closed her eyes and let the sounds of the forest (rushing water, rustling leaves, the pulse of the earth) enter her.   In that stillness, she understood:   Yearning was not hers alone; it was the thread of existence.

As she returned to the village, Elen glowed quietly.   Seeking truth, she was no longer alone.

Her life was not an endpoint.

Editor Billy Bussell Thompson, New York, NY.   December 29, 2024

*

Afterword

Motivated by an ongoing historical essay on Autocracy and Democracy, I offer this fable as a meditation on the balance between neutrality and vulnerability.   The fable reflects the challenges of biases and personal ignorance.

Writing for me resembles standing at the edge of the Stream of Emery, where thought and emotion merge and flow as one.   For years, I immersed myself in research and mistook the accumulation of knowledge for understanding.   I found myself increasingly isolated:   I was drowning in questions rather than being buoyed by answers.   True meaning appeared not in an endless pursuit of analysis but through connections—rooted in empathy and lived realities.   Like Elen, I came to see that knowledge is a touchstone, not an endpoint.

Intellectual neutrality requires restraint.   It is a deliberate effort to approach ideas without bias, to listen rather than to assert, and to prioritize clarity.   It is the practice of seeing the stream without letting it sweep you away.   But no act of creation can fully separate itself from the self.   Writing also demands vulnerability:   the courage to confront one’s fears and desires.   Vulnerability allows these truths to illuminate the work as if it were shining sunlight through water.

The stream invites us to wade in, yet it challenges us to avoid being swept away.  The act of striving is where meaning resides.   It’s not the destination but the questioning, the persisting, and the growing.  

Neutrality is not silence, and vulnerability is not surrender.

R.F.M.T.

Oakland Park, Fl.   December 29, 2024

“Platonic Interactions”

August 5, 2023
Figure 1: Platonic Series # 00023 - CGI by Ricardo Morin © 2018
Figure 1: Platonic Series # 00023 – CGI by Ricardo Morin © 2018

Within the last two decades, I have turned my pictorial interests to the depiction of regular polyhedra, their history since the classical period, and their different motivations.    Plato believed that regular polyhedra represented the 5 elements of the universe and in how they were a sacred part of geometry.    For modern geometers, the universe fits together into the shape of a dodecahedron, somewhat like a soccer ball.

*

Figure 2: «Platonic Interactions - Tessellated Composite» – CGI by Ricardo Morin– ©2023
Figure 2: «Platonic Interactions Composite» – CGI by Ricardo Morin– ©2023

«Platonic Interactions» began with the beauty I found in Plato’s forms and how their own mathematical formations involved the proportionality of the golden mean.     Their geometries stand as a unified and congruent visual harmony.     Akin to mandalas for meditation, they evoke the world at large.     My vision of the regular polyhedra is set by having them nested within each other in an openly latticed forest of complementary and analogous hues and shapes.     Although regular polyhedra are essentially symmetrical, the rotation of their three-dimensional structures allows for a multiplicity of visual angles, with each one filled by wondrous feats of energy.      «Platonic Interactions» is an orchestration of life-inspiring images, arranged to the melodic musings of Johann Sebastian Bach’s Prelude – Cello Suite 3 – as interpreted by Jon Sayles.

*

Figure 3: Figure 3 «Platonic Triangulation» by Ricardo Morin, 22’ x 30”. Body color and graphite on paper, ©2008
Figure 3: Figure 3 «Platonic Triangulation» by Ricardo Morin,
22’ x 30”. Body color and graphite on paper, ©2008

As early as 2005, I had begun a series of oil paintings and drawings entitled «Infinity,» which were based on the premises previously mentioned.     In this context, the painting’s perimeter serves the same function as the golden mean does for proportionality.     The superimposition of the triangle’s right angle over the surface of the painting reinforces the golden mean.    The very surface of the painting and the forms expressed on it imply infinitude.    

Since 2018, no longer involved in the medium of oils, I have dedicated my attention to digital paintings.     Printed and manipulated on canvas, today these digital paintings count sixty four images.     «Platonic Interactions» uses fifty of these images, sequentially arranged.     They are further composited into two tessellated tiles (like mosaics), one 5 x 5 squares and the other 7 x 7 squares – as in Figure 2 above.

*

Ricardo F Morin

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

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Bala Cynwyd, Pa. August 3, 2023

“A Conversation in Twelve Days: Reliquary of Remembrances”

March 24, 2023
Line Holland America, Eurodam Cruise Itinerary
Line Holland America, Eurodam Cruise Itinerary

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In Memoriam Papá

*

The ‘I’ believes in pleasure, laughter, good food, sex.   The ‘I’ believes in itself, sometimes it is proud of itself but sometimes ashamed of itself.   Who does not carry the stain of shame, a faux pas, a lost opportunity that, just remembering them, cures us of the threatening hubris of believing ourselves, in Mexican terms, the mero mero, the cat’s meow, the king of the forest, the bee’s knees?

Carlos Fuentes, This I Believe: An A-Z of a Writer’s Life; The I. p. 315. Bloomsbury Publishing, London; Translated by Kristina Cordero, Copyright 2004.

*


 

INTRODUCTION:

Writing for me is the result of reasoning through experience, sifting agenda whether mine or those of others.   In shaping my narratives, the process inevitably extends long beyond the scope of a story.   I cannot define my emotions unless I have spent time examining them.   Unlike a professional journalist, on purpose I avoid writing on commission or for any kind of financial gain.  For a few years now, owing to the Covid Pandemic, I have substituted writing for my brushes and painting studio.   Spontaneity defines these narratives just as it had my abstract paintings.   I struggle for disinterestedness:   a universality intrinsic to every work of art. 

Thus, a narrative’s introduction is ironically an epilogue.  Initially, the conversation taking place between David and me had not been set.  It is through the course of this cruise that evocations are gleaned from the past.  They are our way of understanding ourselves as spouses.

This exploration of the West Indies and the Caribbean held des énigmes.  For us, it was the exploration of an unknown continent. Among these southern lands resided that Little Venice [Venezuela], the source of my current distress:  Why did I have to leave there a half century ago for a frigid Western New York?  This story illustrates both my father’s culture and my own perspective.

In the mutability of time, confessions seek understanding.  Memory comes from/out of habit, opinion, desire, pleasure, pain, and fear.   Each manifests a change.  Like jetsam in times of distress each one of these resurfaces, though not preserved, but transformed into something new.  The succession of worn-out ideas is an act of replacement.  

A wanderer’s hope and prayers I add for those left behind.   In pondering these memories, I examine my own validity and ambiguities.  This reliquary of contradictions stands between intuition and fact.  I seek the readers’ empathy as a transition.

Each alliance of loyalty between fact and intuition can place us in a better universe.  It is our beliefs that the human spirit can rise above life’s vicissitudes.

Here, I wish to include special thanks to Professor Andrew Irving, Ph.D., head of the Department of Anthropology, University of Manchester, England, for his generous support and guidance.  I have known Andrew for the past 26 years, and once I had the opportunity to collaborate on a research project, entitled The Art of Life and Death: Radical Aesthetics and Ethnographic Practice (2017).  Since before the publication of my WordPress’s web page Observations on the Nature of Perception (Visual Art, Aesthetic Plasticity, and a Free Human Mind) – a repository for short stories published as of 2008 – I had already shared with him a number of testimonials on aesthetics, which became crystalized in my post Acts of Individual Talent (2009).    These had evolved over our conversations in the course of thirteen years, starting in 1997 since we met for the first time:

Ricardo realized that the true measure of a painter is the making of art despite the obstacles and challenges one has to endure.   Ricardo was particularly motivated by the fact that there have been innumerable artists whose accomplishments did not depend on engaging with the marketplace.   He was drawn to “all the great works by anonymous artists from Greek and Roman Antiquity, that were plundered, destroyed, and stigmatized during the Dark Ages,” as well as Cézanne, who endured forty years of obscure labor before landing a first one-man-show, and Van Gogh, whose sublimely “outsider” creations were only recognized after his death.   For Ricardo, the term “outsider art” often denotes a prejudice toward individuals perceived to be riddled by some sort of physical or psychological health impairment.   As such, both academia and the art establishment tend to divide art on the basis of its cultural import or through an underlying bias that Ricardo suggests evolves according to market demands.   Another term is folkloric art, deemed to refer to the art of the colonies or the cultural heritage of a nation, which is associated with ideas of shared roots and lived experiences.   “Are these terms in some way similar or different from the issues involved in art produced during the struggle over chronic or terminal disease?” Ricardo asked after reading this chapter, “and while the notion of mutuality is essential to understanding the shared human condition, can it also help to expand sensibilities about understanding human expression in an interdisciplinary scientific context, bound by the myriad circumstances that may engulf human pathos besides biology, be it in sociological survival to fit in or as an effort to therapeutically survive a chronic or terminal disease?”   Ricardo’s response and analysis continued:  “There is great intelligence in the creative efforts made by the human mind to survive any circumstance.   Besides, it is undeniable that bodily pain and mental pain are ubiquitous in life, be it one of privilege or alienation.   The logical concepts of cognitive science with averages, classifications, and algorithms will serve no other purpose than to provide a mere approximation to understanding the complexity of human expression, its diversity, heterogeneity, and inenarrable nature. Can we really come to understand the ways in which different modes of inner expression – such as people’s ongoing interior dialogues, un-articulated moods, imaginative life-worlds, and emotional reveries – if they remain hidden beneath the surface of public activities, hence hidden from research?   Ultimately, that which is mystical about the cycle of life and death may not be elucidated by a tactical approach, but through a profound introspection that is very difficult to articulate.”   In 2008, Ricardo was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkin Lymphoma, a cancer associated with AIDS that affects white blood cells and can emerge when the immune system is weakened for prolonged periods.   Throughout his illness, chemotherapy treatment, and convalescence, Ricardo spent many months sitting in silence in his chair. Beds and chairs are often dynamic sites of thought, expression, and memory for people living with an extended period of illness, whose thinking ranges freely across the past, present, and future.   People remain thinking and speaking beings even when lying or seated in silence for long periods and may be negotiating critical issues, dilemmas, and decisions regarding treatment, work, or faith and be engaged in emergent streams of interior dialogue, thought, and emotion.   It was during this state, which Ricardo describes as one of “high inertia” that he came to recognize the simplicity, power, and aesthetics of silence, especially “when compared with all the noise and visual cacophony of the tangible world at large.”   Of course, a silence is never simply a silence.   Different days are mediated by different silences; an uncertain silence, a good silence, a heroic silence, a surreal silence, a painful silence.   A silence can contain the faces of the people closest to you, thoughts of suicide, images of the world outside, daydreams, and future-orientated life projects.   After months of dwelling in silence, Ricardo wrote a Manifesto of Silence to help him think through and articulate his thoughts. It begins as follows:   “The verbalization of an aesthetic reality implies its own death; no matter how precise, its very accuracy of words resists the magnitude of that reality.   It is found in the open space of silence, in the virtuous stillness of a meditative contemplation, in the freedom itself of the known, free to observe with a heightened attention, where questions are unnecessary and responses trivialize the very observation.”  After finishing the chemotherapy, Ricardo came down with severe tendonitis, which meant he no longer had the requisite strength to stretch canvases in order to paint.   Consequently, when he started painting again he did so on hanging scrolls.   Ricardo came to understand the scroll material and how it behaved in its simplest of terms and in relation to his own physical limitations.   Between 2009 and 2010, Ricardo started to work on a scroll series called Metaphors of Silence, in which “it was this incidental simplicity of the medium of scrolls and my empathy for the nature of silence that produced the subject matter.”

Andrew Irving, The Art of Life and Death: Radical Aesthetics and Ethnographic Practice (2017), Chapter 3, To Live That Life; Observations on the Nature of Perception, pp. 119-24

When I last revised my post Acts of Individual Talent in 2020, I concluded:   What use would creativity or intellect be to us without compassion?, would we not need to assess our system of valuation, perhaps even our own cultural rationality?

More recently, on February 3, 2023, Andrew and I also had a long discussion via Zoom, which was based on my WordPress post Meditations on Ortega y Gasset (2022).  At that time, he provided a critical analysis with extensive bibliography, which, he felt, would enhance my perspective about the Enlightenment and its limitations. 

Furthermore, I extend my gratitude to my friend and editor for the past 36 years, Billy Bussell Thompson, Ph.D., professor emeritus, Hofstra University, Department of Romance Languages.  It is thanks to Billy that I remain hopeful in developing my skills as a writer.

Fort Lauderdale, March 24, 2023

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Plato’s Symposium:  Diotima on the wisdom of love.

“So do not be amazed if everything honors by nature its offshoot; for it is for the sake of immortality that this zeal and eros attend everything.”   

“ . . . in as much as in the case of human beings, if you were willing to glance at their love of honor, you would be amazed at their irrationality, unless you understand what I have said and reflect how uncanny their disposition is made by their love of renown, ‘and their setting up immortal fame for eternity’; and for the sake of fame even more than for their children, they are ready to run all risks, to exhaust their money, to toil at every sort of toil, and to die.”   [Location p. 37, 207a-208]

Plato’s Symposium:   a translation by Seth Bernardete with commentaries by Allen Bloom and Seth Bernardete, Chicago:   University of Chicago Press, 2001.


*

I

Clouds loomed, as if mountains, over the horizon.  From the balcony of our stateroom, we watched the wake’s effervescent whiteness.  Gulls pierced rolling waves and cawed their disputes.

 

II

Our travels across the Bahamas and along the coasts of Central America had begun five days ago on the Eurodam.  On January 4th we had left Fort Lauderdale.  Already we have passed by north of Cuba and and south of Hispaniola.  Now, we are approaching Aruba, a mere 76 miles from Venezuela.  A pilot boat will guide us to moorage.  But a fire alarm has gone off, and the stench of diesel permeates the air.  A few minutes later the captain announces: Everything has been brought back to normal.  The emergency has been aborted.

 

III

David and I are speaking; emergency lights are still flashing.

  • It’s been fifty years since I left.  I was 17.  

 

IV

We disembark in Oranjestad.

  • Eighty-five years today my parents were ostracized from Germany.   Five years later they married in the United States, where they lived happily until their deaths.
  • For my parents, leaving the country was never an option and their marriage was unhappy.
  • Did you ever come with them to Aruba?
  • Only as a child.

 

V

  • How was your relationship with them at that time?
  • My parents emphasized independence.     For me they were a bridge to the country, still.     They understood I had to go abroad.   There was no other choice.   From my love for them, ties to Venezuela have never wavered.     Our proximity now, however, elicits no nostalgia, only recollections.    I do care, though. 

 

VI

  • You must have some memorable moments from then?
  • Camping out with the Boy Scouts on the Andean plateau.  That honed my vision.
  • Anything else? 
  • I remember the ashrams of the Universal Fraternity.  There were monks, followers of Serge Raynaud de la Ferrière (in Valencia, Maracay, and Caracas).  I frequented all three of them, during the summers.  These ashrams schooled its attendees in a mixture of natural sciences and Buddhism:  For me this was more stimulating than listening to church sermons, with their evocations of sin and the shadows of shame.  That’s when I began yoga and meditation.
  • What impressed you the most?
  • I was drawn by the emphasis in self-denial.  But I disliked being dependent on other people.  I just wanted to expand beyond myself.  

 

VII

  • In those years, I was attached to nothing in particular.  Was I a dilettante? 
  • You were inquisitive; it was a time for discovery. 
  • I went to seminars on musicology; I took German lessons; it was a time for Hesse, Kafka, Gibran, Thoreau’s Walden, and Skinner’s Walden Two.

 

VIII

  • I read, but unsystematically.  I liked philosophy, history, painting, and writing, but I wasn’t yet dedicated.  Only slowly, did it all become part of me. 
  • These things awakened your spirit.
  • I was free from obligations and they expressed my relationship to the world.
  • You were learning to be original.  You sought your own voice.  You didn’t mimic other people.
  • The more I felt, the greater my involvement.  It was just a way to express myself.  I wasn’t looking for success, or distraction. 

 

IX

We disembarked and walked over to the shopping malls.  From Main Street we veered into the side ones.  On both sides, most storefronts were boarded up.  The façades showed signs of a better time, perhaps, from when Venezuelans were flamboyant.  Now only makeshift stands crowded the sidewalk, manned by folk with a distinctive Venezuelan lilt:  In friendly conversation, the word marico floated amongst them.

  • Papá once watched me sitting on the curb of a street next to an old watchman who worked for us on weekends and was known for having an unpredictable temper.  The watchman awaited my family’s departure to the city.  I had often befriended him, peppering him with questions.  Later, Papá said I was the only person who related to this man.
  • Your resilience was your best attribute. 

 

X

  • In the late sixties, our family hosted the daughter of Venezuela’s President Rómulo Betancourt, Virginia.  She and her husband stayed in one of our houses in Valencia.   At that time, Virginia Pérez was the head of the National Library in Caracas.   I was thirteen and Papá asked me to take my paintings from the rooms where the guests were staying.   According to him they were out of place.   One day, after having finished lunch, I brought a framed watercolor over to Virginia and began to speak.   My father objected, but she said, disavowing him:  “No, please, leave him alone.”   I continued:   “It shows the spirit of a young man in search of freedom.”    Sweetly she responded:   “I like your way of thinking; I want to hear more.”   Words now failed me. 
  • (David chuckling), you told me this once before.

 

XI

  • Can you tell if you fit into a pattern, or is your life just a series of episodes?
  • I don’t see the disconnections; I can’t say if there’s a pattern.   I was just bold then.   My speech, vocabulary, and the way I looked must have seemed provocative, perhaps, even epicene.   I threatened expectations.   I was different from my older brother, who was athletic and had lots of friends.   I was a loner.   For my lack of sport, maybe Papá found me not only vulnerable, but also naïve.   Was it dissatisfaction or was it nonconformity?   I only found solace in my private inventions.  Shortly afterwards, I erased, slashed, tore two years of paintings, only to regret this later.   Papá said I was rebelling against my own culture.  
  • Your father knew you couldn’t survive a world of machismo and its deeply rooted biases.
  • That’s the point.   I hadn’t understood that yet.    Papá saw my creativity as a target for victimization.   He told me I couldn’t be a lawyer.   I wouldn’t fit in.   When I argued I could go into international law, he was equally incredulous. 
  • Perhaps, for that same reason, he never got involved in politics; he knew human imperfections carried their own risks; he recognized the kind of dishonesty that pervaded Venezuela.   He wanted you to be safe.  That’s why you had to leave.

 

XII

  • I’ve come to understand that exceptionalism is a myth.   Disappointment is powerful.   I had to leave. 

 

XIII

  • Even if I am surrounded by falsehood, I must not be cynical.   What does that serve?   Human imperfections can’t be freed from themselves.   I feel uncomfortable, however, when people ask where I am from, as if they are diagnosing who I am.
  • Most people don’t mean anything by it.
  • It’s my own reaction.   I suppose it proves I am not comfortable with English.   It feels as if people are placing me in a niche.
  • Most people can identify with that, I do for one.   Few of us ever get the questions right.
  • Does anyone, really?   If they did, answers would be unnecessary. 

 

 

XIV

That night, it rained.   A full moon unveiled itself from behind the clouds.    We stepped again onto the balcony and admired the kaleidoscope of twinkling lights across the island.

  • In the first few years outside of Venezuela, I was enamoured of life in the United States.   Long before going there, my Aunt Lina’s place in Buffalo had filled my dreams.   She was able to flee the Holocaust.   Her rose garden was just what I had imagined.   Her graciousness was the same as when I had met her in Venezuela.   Her garden left a lasting impression on me. 

 

XV

That morning we anchored in Willemstad, Curaçao, surrounded by a rumpus of pelicans near the pier. 

  • On my first visit back to Venezuela, Papá asked me what I thought about the inflation in the United States.   I never knew why he posed that question.   Its irony was not lost on me 50 years later, when Venezuela has accrued one of the highest rates in the history of the world.

 

XVI

We went sightseeing in Willemstad.   The city’s old buildings, streets, and bridges were reminiscent of Amsterdam.   We took photographs and wandered around slowly.   Then thinking of our families, we shopped for table linens.

  • Do you think your father foresaw the disintegration of Venezuela? 
  • The world where I grew up was always on the brink.   Papá used to say he did not know how we were going to manage without him.   He feared for every aspect of our lives, and even for every Venezuelans’ families.   He even feared a total civil brutality in that landscape of pervasive dishonesty.   How could it be prevented?

 

XVII

Keeping to ourselves, we had a full day at sea.   We ate alone.   We had little in common with the other passengers:   all two thousand of them.

  • After twenty-four years later, I came back.   Without a gallery’s contract, again I have thought about destroying my paintings.   This time, I was tempted to burn them, but the flames might have engulfed me and my home.   This thwarted me.   I could only store them.
  • Couldn’t somebody have helped?
  • Papá did the best he could, even inciting jealousy among my brothers and sisters.  Perhaps, he felt sorrier for me …. When I was interviewed by a local newspaper concerning my work in the United States, a lot of our neighbors thought the interview self-serving.   Then Papá died and I became even more of an outsider.
  • What happened to him?
  • By the age of 70, he had become delusional, untethered from his own will.   His last five years coincided with Venezuela’s disintegration, and family members sought safety in Europe and elsewhere in America.   For me art became secondary.

 

XVIII

  • What about your brothers and sisters?
  • It’s sad to say.   Their sense of entitlement has complicated matters.   My older brother claimed the right of primogeniture, though he had no legal authority for such.  We denied it to him, but lacked the resources to challenge him.  He kept the rents mostly for himself.  With the passing of years, the properties have lost value and some have been taken over by squatters, and some even expropriated by the government.  Out of concern for his safety, I made an offer to help him.  He rebuffed me saying he counted on the first Lady of Venezuela.  He added that he could not leave Venezuela and lose his identity as a lawyer.
  • These explanations are puzzling.   And what about your two sisters and younger brother?   What has happened to them?
  • My youngest sister moved to Madrid with her husband and two young daughters.   My other sister and younger brother have stayed in Venezuela.   They protect each other as well as they can.    For the last ten years, I have been helping them and my paternal aunts.
  • I remember meeting your aunts.   That was when I traveled to Venezuela with you.   We celebrated your mother’s eightieth birthday and your older brother’s remarriage.   I also remember his son’s grief.   He seemed inconsolable.   Didn’t he move to Argentina with his partner?
  • Yes.   We also did our best to console him, such as when he met my former partner, Nelson.   He felt reinforced by our presence, and my relationship with Nelson triggered a validation that his father had always feared.    All along my nephew sought his father’s acceptance.   I told them there was no place for shame.

 

XIX

Not too far from where we are, in a small fishing village on the Caribbean coast of Venezuela stands a plinth.  It pays homage to guerrillas sent by Cuba to Venezuela in the 1960’s.  Their campaign collapsed.  Five decades later, Hugo Chávez helped achieve Cuba’s fantasy – this time without firing a shot.

  • I cannot judge Venezuela nor its history, for I no longer am part of it.  I have not suffered the lash of Venezuelan repressions.  For the past 50 years, I have been in the United States, where measures of rectification constantly challenge authoritarianism and kleptocracy.  
  • Recently, you spoke to my friend Cindy, who is an analyst at the US treasury.  She told you quite frankly that the American government’s sanctions on corrupt Venezuelan individuals are not simple issues.  The flight of fortunes from countries like Venezuela cannot be easily controlled where there is flagrant corruption. 
  • Indeed, that’s a reality no one can manage.

 

XX

  • In your opinion, is there any hope for Venezuelan stability? 
  • It’s complex.   It is inexplicable how, for instance, billions of dollars are acquired out of nowhere by the children of local politicians.   They care not at all for its constituency or for their country:   A nation of laws has ceased to exist.  

 

XXI

  • Have you ever interacted with Venezuelan officials? 
  • Only indirectly, through second and third cousins (who worked in the executive branch and the Ministry of Foreign Relations) as well as my own brother (who was a legal advisor to a State governor).   Aside from them, I have only engaged a would-be reformer, who now lives in Florida.   In 1999, he was one of the congressmen involved in writing  the last Venezuelan constitution.   Currently, among expatriates, he has a large following.   In one of his podcasts, he took issue with me over the lack of maturity in Venezuelan politics.   He replied furiously to my allegations of self-interest:   ¿Y quién coño eres tú?” [And, who tha fuck are you?].   Later, I sent him a text “in general most reformers fail to address what they intend to reform,” and he replied:   ¡Ay, por Dios, éste es un gran maricón! [Oh, my God, this man is just a faggot].   Then he blocked me. 

 

XXII

We arrived in Cartagena, Colombia, where we toured the old walled city and the Fortress of San Felipe.   Long undulating promenades (covered by trellises draped in bougainvillea) were delightfull and hugged the walls of the malecón.  The guide spoke of the father of Greater Colombia, Simón Bolívar, who had died at Santa Marta.  He pointed out a wine-colored fortress where Gabriel García Márquez had resided.  

  • Even though I did not take part in the protests, with my keyboard I favored dissenters and insurrectionists alike.  This was my cri du cœur.  Though we have all failed, for me the morality of this call has never gone silent.
  • It’s your voice.
  • Time itself is an instrument that balances the absence of truth, the swing of delusion, and the debris of extremism.  As time unfurls, it allows us to come to an understanding. 
  • It heals our madness.
  • Maybe, justice will prevail.   Maybe, harmony will be achieved in a new generation.  
  • Also, when we least expect it, despots may usurp our freedoms.

XXIII

We were now in the Panama Canal about to enter the Gatún Locks.  Pulled by trains on each side, the ship climbed up through three locks until reaching the waters of Lake Gatún.  The architectural feat of the Canal sparked my imagination (suddenly I thought about the Egyptian Pyramids).   We reached the shore of the lake on tenders and from there we made a tour by bus.  We zigzagged through hundreds of military buildings and army barracks until we arrived at the Locks of Miraflores on the Pacific.  From there we drove to the Old City, where we photographed its colonial buildings and plazas.  Clustering across the bay, we could see the skyline of present day Panama City.  Then we drove to Colón on the Atlantic.   Just before boarding back on the Eurodam, we walked through a small zoo leading to the pier.  Roaming around, among mammals and tropical birds, we saw a giant anteater and its long tongue, swallowing a thousand morsels.    David brings up politics: 

  • No country is exempt from the excesses of partisanship.
  • But we don’t know the reasons.
  • Do you think an apolitical consciousness is called for?
  • I only know that extremism is no remedy for human uncertainty.
  • The danger is always that polarization can turn into warfare.

 

 

 

XXIV

We arrived in Costa Rica, anchoring in Limón.   We disembarked to board a tourist bus.   Then we got off to navigate in small boats through the channels that ran along the edges of the jungle.  In heavy, intermittent rain, we saw monkeys, sloths, toucans, snakes, alligators, and crocodiles.   Once the ride was completed, we got back on the bus, which took us to higher altitudes.  When we arrived, we took a cable car into the heart of the rainforest until reaching a research lab, a butterfly garden, and a trail that led to waterfalls.  The wooden stairs of the path were slippery from rain.   Unable to proceed farther, we heard the thunderous sound of the cataracts.

  • I was born in a land of wealth, which is what attracted my ancestors.   They came to Venezuela as early as 1745, both from Europe and the Canary Islands.   Between 1799 and 1804, the German geographer, Alexander von Humboldt, in his writings, lauded the colony as a paradise for the advancement of science.   Today this paradise struggles for its own survival.  

 

XXV

  • On May 13, 2014, I received an answer to one of my queries from the White House’s website for foreign relations, on behalf of President Obama.   The email bore the letterhead of the White House, though obviously pro forma.   In closing, it read … With our international partners, the United States is continuing to look at what more we can do in support of that effort [i.e. ‘for an honest dialogue between the Venezuelan government and the opposition’].   America has strong and historical ties with the Venezuelan people, and we remain committed to our relationship with them.   Their fundamental freedoms and universal human rights must be protected and respected.
  • To an impartial reader this email may seem either empathetic, or even propagandistic; but the reality is that Venezuela may need the United States, not the other way around, at least not at this time.

 

XXVI

The last two days at sea, we dined in private restaurants.   I took notes of our conversation.   David indulged my writing and editing until he complained that I wasn’t paying enough attention to eating.   Writing seemed to be the one habit I could not ignore.   It was my solace.   That last night, when passing along the southwest coast of Cuba, the rough waters of the sea made walking unstable.   Before midnight, we packed our bags and placed them in the hallway outside the cabin door.

  • Past, present, and future time collided:   Chávez’s death in 2013 led me to think about Papá’s in 1997.   The year before, I had taken him to urgent care at a private hospital.   A neurologist there said he had suffered a brain injury and there was little to be done.   He was 74.    He could no longer speak.   Suddenly, surprisingly, he sat up in anger; something obviously gnawed at him deeply.   He threatened.  
  • To the bitter end, your father was tormented.   You could neither appease nor redeem him.

 

XXVII

Next morning was our twelfth and last day, as we arrived in Fort Lauderdale.   We went to breakfast on deck two and, again, we ate alone.   Then, returning to deck eight, back in our stateroom, we waited to disembark.   We were the third group, color red, and, finally at 11 am, were summoned.   We went down to deck one and lined up with the other passengers.   After our ID’s were scanned, we walked down the ramp to the terminal, collected our luggage, and exited.   We called a Uber to take us home, where we arrived 12 minutes later.

  • Papá’s and Hugo Chávez’s death spared them both from the torment of national crisis.
  • For Venezuela’s new generation, social inequities are rooted in differences of ideology.
  • Is the new generation a throwback to the Cold War?
  • Can the new generation examine itself?
  • As long as the inquiry is not reactionary:   i.e. an inquiry into truth.
  • This dilemma is not unique to Venezuela.   Over this, the whole world struggles.

 

EPILOGUE

*


Plato’s Symposium:  Agathon’s encomium on Eros.

“And don’t we know that . . .  he whom Eros does not touch remains obscure?”

“. . .   he is the one who makes

            ‘Peace among human beings, on the sea calm/

             And cloudlessness, the resting of winds and sleeping/

             Of care”.   [Location p. 25, 197 a, c]

Plato’s Symposium:   a translation by Seth Bernardete with commentaries by Allen Bloom and Seth Bernardete, Chicago:   University of Chicago Press, 2001.


*

Love’s grace suggests a continuation of learning.   As David raised the shades (allowing the sun’s rays to stream into our living room), he hummed:   “Be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home.”    In response I:   “How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed.”   We continued:

  • Life is soaked in uncertainty.
  • The measure of our limitations is uncontrollable.
  • Hope is always an option.
  • Faith is bigger than ourselves.
  • Strife never conquers it.
  • Tranquility defines it.
  • Action fulfills it.
  • Least said. . . .

 

The End

Ricardo F Morin

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

 

 

“Meditations on Ortega y Gasset”

December 19, 2022

*

Acknowledgment

I

First, I would like to share with my readers my utmost gratitude to Billy Bussell Thompson (b. November 23, 1942), Ph.D., Professor Emeritus of Linguistics at Hofstra University, for his generosity in being a mentor and editor.       His scholarly trajectory goes from 1963 to 1993.        Among his most salient publications in English, we have:       Relic and Literature . . .; Bilingualism in Moorish Spain; The Myth of the Magdalen . . .; etc. . . .

II

Since 1989, our friendship has extended over more than three decades.       We have worked in close proximity on at least a dozen articles and short stories (published in WordPress).        I have been fortunate to count on his frankness and support.       He has never minced words.       He has been blunt, when any of my drafts seemed without merit.        When that was the case, the articles went into a shredder, and I was satisfied by the integrity of his prose, as well as by my understanding of my own limitations as a writer.        Prof. Bussell Thompson (B.B.T.) usually compares the skill of prose writing with that of a narrowing cone of vision.         This selective cone of vision is akin to the aesthetic integrity of a visual work of art.       With the present endeavor, Prof. B.B.T. believed, from the very beginning, in the possibility of bringing forth this story as a team.       Even though we live in different regions – geographically far apart – of the USA, we have had no trouble communicating via phone and email.

III

This narrative seeks to explain the confusion found in society and politics, and even their seeming lack of purpose.     For this reason, I dedicate my narrative to the readers.

IV

Initially, I knew not where this would lead.           I submitted a five-paragraph draft to professor B.B.T.       As he began to read, he paused and asked if I was alluding to Plato’s allegory of the cave.     Surprised, I asked him to stop.       I replied that his reference to Plato placed me in a different perspective.       Gratefully, I added that his question was most welcome; at that point, I wanted to read more before continuing.

V

He encouraged me to reread Plato’s dialogues.       To this he added that I take into account any ambiguity associated with Plato’s conception of the ideal authority of the State (politeia) or Nation.       He referred to the Platonic ideas controversial in current discussions.        He also recommended reading José Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955).        He included The Revolt of the Masses [1929] and The Dehumanization of Art [1925].         He suggested that I be aware of Ortega’s meritocratic liberal perspective (though we believed that Ortega had not been known for openly endorsing any political ideology) and to heed the relevance Ortega gives to the man who is aware of his limitations – opposed to the man who is unaware:     both the bourgeoisie and the mass man (who exemplify, for him la razón sinrazón [the reason for unreason]) – as explained in The Revolt of the Masses.       And finally, I focus on the distinction between “content” and “form,” to explain the break by the avant-garde from the bourgeoisie.

VI

Professor B.B.T. and I also had an exchange of ideas over the parallels between the Platonic and Orteguian thought.      He advised me then to read anew Meditations on Quixote [1914] both in Spanish and in English.      There, B.B.T. thought that I could find a significant or productive landscape of ideas on which to reflect and, thus, be able to develop my own interpretations about the nature of knowledge, its limits, and how to find the meaning of the ideal of truth.

VII

In writing my last short story, entitled In Darkness, Professor B.B.T. had already urged me to note the meaning for circunstancia1 (“circumstance”) as defined by Ortega in Meditations on Quixote.       It was clear to us that both Ortega’s phenomenological approach to “circumstance” and Plato’s thesis on the transformation of the individual (through knowledge) shared commonalities, which nurtured my own narrative.

VIII

But, the narrative journey proved to be just as challenging as Professor B.B.T. had pointed out.     His criticism, even then, never ceased being constructive and energetic.    His compassion was present as long as I was mindful of the necessity for clarity and precision.    Often, he would cite Ernest Hemingway’s authenticity and precision. 

IX

Time and time again, I experienced enormous pain in trying to comprehend what I wished to express.    Freeing my prose from superficiality was like taking a deep breath to exhale the vagueness of my anxieties.    Sometimes I was unable to get away from the obvious.    Other times, either I hid behind the complex, or I would cling to abstract and cryptic thinking:    the reductive jargon of the social sciences.    Professor B.B.T. repeatedly suggested succinctness:      I needed to respect the simplicity of language and find a way to its accessibility.    Bringing Plato and Ortega to the reader was my responsibility.    I was not to imitate them nor to think like them, but to represent them authentically.    My first obligation was to the reader.    For this I had to avoid euphemisms, randomness, and diversion.    The affirmation of effective communication is an objective worth the effort.      I would only understand myself, if I were to understand the reader.

X

B.B.T.’s exhortations and criticisms, I welcomed enthusiastically.    His challenge became mine.  He has been exorcising my limitations for two decades:    Every time we have worked together, I have discovered something new in myself.    I have become more attuned to both English and Spanish.    I have had to be my own translator.     In these instances, I have grown more respectful of the two languages.    I have had to capture their essence by comparing them:     the one informs the other.

*

Prologue

In Plato’s dialogue Theaetetus [circa 369 B.C.E.], Socrates proposes that the extraordinary extraction of ideas is like bringing forth a new life and purging what is unnecessary.    Likewise, the aim here is to produce and discuss what enlightenment is, and the obstacles to its achievement.    Socrates has helped me in my definition of knowledge:     Is morality universal, or is objective morality even possible?    For these ideas I am indebted both to Plato and to Ortega y Gasset.

Ricardo F Morin, December 19, 2022

Editor Billy Bussell Thompson

 

*

Plato, Roman marble bust copied from Greek original, 4th century B.C.E., Capitoline Museums, Rome.

*

Socrates, Roman marble bust copied from Greek original, 2nd half of the 4th century B.C.E., Capitoline Museums, Rome.

*

José Ortega y Gasset (1883-1955), detail of photograph of his impersonation of Honoré de Balzac, circa 1900.

*

One way to objectivity is to recognize one’s own subjectivity.    Metaphors for understanding reality are rare.    One sees the world primarily through one’s own experience.    It is difficult (though not impossible) to understand what one has not experienced.    Truth never rests:  It is not singular, but always plural.

Anonymous

*

1

Index

  • 1. Awareness of the Transformation of One’s Self:

The highest principle of inquiry is consciousness of one’s self.    In inquiry lie the beginnings of change.

 

2

Index

  • 2. The Absence of Trust:

In our age of disbelief, the stories we tell each other about the past and the present seem to be in a state of collapse.    There is a lack of continuity in the social order, increasingly suffocated by misinformation and distrust.  We challenge each other over what is real and what is not.

3

Index

  • 3. The Unassailable Truth:

For most of us an ultimate truth remains unattainable and the stories we share from the past and the present no longer seem useful.    Along with the disappearance of our past stories, both the person who seeks truth and the act of giving a person his due are in crisis.     Our society finds itself defined by a decline in trust both in government and its institutions.    Despairingly, the challenge is that the creation of new stories has become an act of preservation.     Likewise, autocracy is on the ascendance.    A lack of faith has sown aimlessness.    What can change this course of despair?    What will bring enlightenment to us?

 

4

Index

  • 4. Consciousness:

Knowledge is constantly changing and the result of this destabilization carries us into greater disorder.     For this reason clarity is more necessary than ever to understand ourselves.     Even if clarity is not always possible, to know oneself is imperative.    Thus arises the tension between continuity and change.    Here lies the quest for survival.

 

5

Index

  • 5. Not Knowing:

Not knowing is the essential condition of existence, despite one’s apparent desire for knowledge or for authority.     To know is to inquire.     Reality, though fleeting, inspires reflection.     Change begins with the recognition that one is not in isolation.     Not even the one (who seeks self-sacrifice for his spiritual advancement) by absolute cloister could get rid of his entanglement with the world.    It is by relating to other people and his environment that this person comes to know who he is.     Not even he (who despises the symbols of fear) is capable of freeing himself from his anguish.   The fear of not knowing hangs over all of us.     It is possible that striving without measure (in the aspiration for rationality) only leads us to end up being irrational:     Here lies the origin of complexity given the absence of innocence.

 

6

Index

  • 6. The Energy of Life:

In his theory of cultural attributes (Meditaciones del Quijote, Meditación preliminar; Índice 8, La pantera o del sensualismo, pág. 21), José Ortega y Gasset gives us his concept of razón vital2, which means reason is expressed through life itself.    Ortega parses the European mind into two archetypes:     the Germanic and the Mediterranean.     The former is meditative and the latter sensuous.   Of the sensuous he says:     The predominance of the senses usually implies a deficiency in inner powers.    What is meditating as compared with seeing?     As soon as the retina is hit by the arrow from without, our inner personal energy hastens and stops the intrusion.     The impression is registered, subjected to civilized order; it is thought, and in this way it is integrated in the building up of our personality, and cooperates within it – Evelyn Rugg and Diego Martín’s translation – Notes and Introduction by Julián Marías – pp. 85-86.     The Orteguian admonition here is to find the balance between extremes:   between the excesses and deficiencies of these two archetypes.

 

7

Index

  • 7. Human Agency and Its History:

A second source for my understanding of the mind and the senses is found in Plato’s Republic (politeia) – Socrates’s dialogue of the allegory of the cave at the beginning of Book Seven.     There have been many interpretations.     Mine differs.     My purpose is to rid suffering from the mind of the freed slave.     Once freed from shackles, the mind of the freed slave (who ascends to the mouth of the cave) discovers its own vision of the world.     Despite the sun’s glare, the uneducated mind is transformed by the newly found ideal of truth.     But the awareness by the prisoner (who has remained behind) is inseparable from the condition of the freed man:      The slave (remaining in shadows of suffering) is not entirely separable from the memory of the freed man.     Because of suffering, the freed man’s mind is aware of its inability to know.      At the same time, the freed mind learns how its own transformation may be dependent on the new course of its history.     This mind’s actions allow participation in change, and change is possible through self examination.      The mind examines itself through meditating.     Meditation is not an obligation, but a necessity.     Meditation is the result of the mind’s freedom and it is the means to understanding its own choices in its approach to truth:     But this effort is only an approximation to the infinity of truth.     The freed mind (facing the visible world) is lacking here.    Thus, the freed mind recognizes that neither its actions nor the course of its history is predictable.     They (i.e. the mind’s actions and the course of its history) come from multiple possibilities about belief.  

The freed mind realizes that time is an illusion:     Time is fleeting, false, and deceitful.     The mind, habitually trapped in its past, remains mired in pain.     Anger (which comes from the past in search for justice) has for its sole purpose the manifestation of resentment.     But anger only manages to put its existence on hold, awaiting compensation.     Just as time is an illusion for the mind, the quest for emotional reparation is also an illusion.     For the mind, there is no vindication by being trapped in the labyrinth of illusion.     Only the rationality of active love can compensate for anger.     If the mind of the lover of truth can project itself lovingly in the direction that it resents, then a liberating sense of bravery arises towards itself.     Anger and sentimentality are one and the same.      As the force of love sheds sentimentality, one’s desires dissipate and with them anger as well.     Thereby, violence ceases to exist.     Socrates’s allegory of the mind (freed from suffering) carries all these implications and comparisons towards a goal of Ideal Truth.

 

8

Index

  • 8. Alertness:

In an effort to understand Ortega’s concept of circumstancia (“circumstance”), his Meditación preliminar, Indice 6, Cultura mediterránea, explains to us that when he goes through the landscape of ideas he has to meditate with alertness on the influence of his experiences.     Needless to say, this includes all his past and present relations, the geographies he has occupied, and everything he has done in life.     Ortega forewarns us of the risks in this act of meditation:   We are accompanied by a keen suspicion that, at the slightest hesitation on our part, the whole world could collapse, and we with it.    When we meditate, our mind has to be kept at full tension; it is a painful and integral effortIndex 6, Mediterranean Culture, translated by Evelyn Rugg and Diego Marín (Introduction and notes by Julián Marías [a favorite student of Ortega y Gasset]), p. 34.     In Plato’s dialogues, the same “effort” is found:     Through the act of meditation, Socrates’s freed man draws transformation and redemption from the narrow crevices among ideas.     Meditation helps the lover of truth get closer to his existential condition; it offers him the possibility of reacting differently, and sustains him with the very energy that life provides.

 

9

Index

  • 9. Faith:

For the one who fears meditation, having faith in one’s own actions and changes are not sufficient for inquiry.     History is not alive for him:     It is at a point of no return; it is dead.    This person is in a world of despair and surrounded by the proverbial dancing of shadows.     This person is bound in his own chains, is overwhelmed by a lack of confidence, and is, without trust, unable to make a leap of faith.     Neither the notion of individuality nor the concept of free will seems satisfactory any longer.      This person relinquishes personal power and is unaware of the forces influencing his mind and his senses.     His refusal to face reality becomes a conscious decision for the suppression of truth.     This refusal is antithetical to life itself.    For him, life becomes enslavement and stands in opposition to the freed man, who fearlessly ponders the reality of the visible world, and passionately delves into the exploration of the unknown.   The mind of the freed man represents Ortega’s concept of razón vital, desirous to be absorbed by it.

 

10

Index

  • 10. Deliverance:

Distractions can be multiple.     In Ortega’s playful analysis, he implies that if meditation is extraneous to the fears of the mind, it can succumb to obsession, and even fall despairingly into manias.      Ortega values the relevance of every influence.     He understands that a human being and his landscape are not separate.     The unity of the two means his salvation by circunstancia (“circumstance”):   Thus his appreciation of circunstancia:    Yo soy yo y mi circunstancia, si no la salvo a ella no me salvo yo – Al Lector, Índice, pág. 41 (which I translate as “I am myself [in a world of perceptions] and also the material world that surrounds me; if I don’t save them, I don’t save myself”).     Incidentally, here Ortega preempts his conclusion with what he has read in the Bible:   Benefac loco illi quo notus es3  (loosely translated into English as “do good in the place where you are known”).     With these remarks, Ortega reinforces the idea that he is unable to disassociate himself from his surroundings.    If he is to flourish and to find salvation, it will be necessary for him to understand and protect what he shares with his environment. 

Parallel to Ortega’s analysis is Plato’s Socratic allegory, which teaches us the effect that the visible world has on our mind.     From these two perspectives, the mind tends to be discouraged by what it does not understand.     Awareness of the visible world’s influence is for both thinkers an instinct for survival.     To be aware, therefore, means to be silent, away from the deafening sound of fear.      As long as there is fear, promoted by the progress of civilization, there will be no movement or separation from distractions.     Confronting fear means dispersing it, making it disappear.     Dispersal of fear is fundamental to the understanding of self.      Releasing oneself from fear is confronting one’s not-knowing.     Enslavement (at the depth of the cave) is equivalent to accepting the impositions of fear.     Both, for Ortega and Plato, the opposition to indifference is found through meditation; thereby one is able to be alert and know oneself.

 

11

Index

  • 11. Perception and Storytelling:

​True confidence is living in uncertainty.     An overriding fact is that human beings organize themselves around the making of stories.      Every story we create is an act of piety that consoles the mind.      Yet new stories and old ones are provisional tools that fill the gap of our faith, filling in the void of our ignorance.      Whether the story be true or not, storytelling rescues us from ourselves.      Storytelling is our razón vital.    It seeks to expose us to the best possible meaning of ourselves:     Meaning in storytelling is found by investing oneself with the willpower to exceed adversity.    Meaning is found by creating something new within oneself.    Meaning is found in one’s vulnerability and in the constant pain to overcome it.      The process of finding meaning reveals that one cannot control Truth.     Happiness depends on how one accepts the absence of control, and how we can stop disliking our limitations.​

Storytelling persuades us to think that one’s actions will spread deeply into one’s consciousness.     One may not always be able to defeat the element of preconception, for bias is always with us.     As long as suffering, uncertainty, and the effort to overcome them exist, bias will persist.     Bias lurks behind our thoughts, quiet and insidious, yet it is there for a reason in spite of its harmful effects.    The irony is that if one banished preconceptions, there would be no further progress.    In any story, if the hero overcomes the villainy of bias, it is because he is able to change:     If one does not overcome bias, one does not grow and there is no transformation.     Success is not as important as the struggle to overcome bias.    Every time adversity comes to us, it is an opportunity for the recognition of those preconceptions that still reside in ourselves.     Success does not provide happiness.     Happiness is only possible through self discovery.     As such, one becomes symbolically the whole of humanity.     This is its highest expression:     The creation of something new as we face adversity, and the worse the adversity, the greater the opportunity.

 

12

Index

  • 12. Reasoning (sentience vs sapience):

Awareness of fiction is the appreciation of the paradox between what is and what is not.     Knowledge expresses not only the awareness of one’s own intuitions and senses, but also the reasoning about those intuitions, senses, and impressions.    That is, every time we examine the perception of our memory, we are editing our understanding.    Thus, the way we organize and observe ourselves comes from our desires and senses at that moment, and this comes from our memories.    For instance, it is difficult for us to agree on a common origin or a common thread uniting us as a species, even if that may be true.     Whether we wish it or not, we define ourselves by the histories we create either in groups or in countries.     In doing so, we are actually imagining separate and fragmented believes that we belong to separate locales, cultures, and races.     Yet, there is an unavoidable thread that connects us as a species.     Such composition is found in our common and preponderant origin, though our perception may resist being part of it.     We endow ourselves with differences dictated by the conditioning of our perceptions.     In The Revolt of the Masses, Ortega refers to this condition as la razón de sinrazón (“reason without reason”), which explains our deeply rooted irrationality and fragmentation.        Knowledge implies greater content than what is gained through the form of our perceptions.     Our minds tend to abbreviate history, even believing that it does not exist. Yet the more expansive the “circumstance” or condition of apprehending truth, the greater the maturity our existence demands from us.

 

13

Index

  • 13. Maturing Emotional Intelligence:

If a human being is the measure of all things, then also one comes to appreciate that knowledge is always inconclusive.     Thus, meditation strengthens our mind, our memory, our learning, our attention, and our self awareness.     Meditation on the past, the present, or the future depends on emotional intelligence.     Emotional intelligence is based on capturing the import of influences from all areas of a man’s life, from one’s behavior to one’s relationship with others and one’s environment.     Ultimate reality depends on the level of maturity of a person, and it is through meditation that one matures.     Hence, how a person chooses to act depends on meditation and his level of emotional intelligence.     For the fanatic (obsessed with fear) meditation seems impossible.     For the fanatic, doubt is not the issue.    The fanatic seeks to reiterate cycles.     The fanatic fails to understand that fear of change is irrational because it is inevitable that the world is constantly evolving.     The fanatic seeks to change what is beyond his control.     From the Orteguian point of view, this person, within a closed valuation system, does not find consolation because his mind fears what it does not understand.

 

14

Index

  • 14. Our Connection to the Universe:

From Ortega’s perspective of Cervantes’s Don Quixote [1605-15], we learn that the courage granted by Love – not hate – impels us towards understanding …the useless remains of a shipwreck that life, in its perpetual surge, throws at our feet. – To The Reader, p. 31.    Love is a divine architect who, according to Plato came down to the world – ὥστε τὀ πᾶν αὐτῶ ξυνδέδέσθα – so that every thing in the universe might be linked together:      Separation means extinction.     Hatred, which separates, isolates, and pulls apart, dismembers the world, and destroys individualityTo the Reader, p. 33.

Hence, Ortega explains that the imperative for the individual is to reflect on one’s circunstancia (in medias res), … to arouse the desire of understanding the universal in its particulars. – To the Reader, p. 31:     To ignore the fact that each thing has a character of its own, and not that we wish to demand of it, is, in my opinion, the true capital sin, which I call a sin of the heart because it derives its nature from lack of love.     There is nothing so illicit as to dwarf the world by means of our manias and blindness, to minimize reality, to suppress mentally fragments of what exists.     This happens when one demands that what is deep should appear in the same way as what is superficial.     No, there are things that present only that part of themselves which is strictly necessary to enable us to realize that they lie concealed behind it. – p. 62.

 

15

Index

  • 15. A Heroic Perspective:

Knowledge comes before fanaticism.     Fanaticism is, for Ortega, the rejection of the perspectives of others.     Ortega points to reasoning as an act of charity, which uncovers differences, and suggests that understanding is akin to the circling of an eagle in flight.      To be oneself, for Ortega, is the same as it is for Cervantes.      The act of being a hero takes place through a sensitive exploration of the nature of reality.      In Ortega’s view, as well as for Cervantes’s, the will of the hero belongs only to the persona of Don Quixote:   Because to be a hero means to be one out of many, to be oneself if we refuse to have our actions determined by heredity or environment, it is because we seek to base the origin of our actions on ourselves and only on ourselves.      The hero’s will is not that of his ancestors, nor of his society, but his own.     This will to be oneself is heroism. – First Meditation, 15, The Hero, p. 149.    
I do not think that there is a more profound originality than this practical, active originality of the hero.    His life is a perpetual resistance to the habitual and customary.    Each movement that he has to make has first had to overcome custom and invent a new kind of gesture.    Such a life is a perpetual suffering, a constant tearing oneself away from the part of oneself, which is given over to habit and is a prisoner of matter. – First Meditation, 15, The Hero – p. 149.

 

16

Index

  • 16. The Fear of fate:

A Socratic life is heroic, but if unexamined, of no value.     In the pain of living, one has to embrace the fact that the examination of fear is part of life.     Alongside this examination, fate is never artificial.     Fate does not deceive, even in our misfortunes.      Fate is not illusive, though our perception of time may be.      Instead, fate challenges us to change.      In change, fate protects us from stagnation.     What appears to be random is, in fact, an opportunity for learning.     Consequently, fate exists not for attacking, but for stimulating our transformation.     Fate does not move against us, but challenges us to change by confronting obstacles.     Fate attacks fear, because one’s fear takes away one’s ability to make choices.    Narratives of fear turn out to be self-fulfilling prophesies.      Fear deceives and defines us.     It hampers survival.     Fear prevents our evolving, it paralices us:     We resist giving up habits because of fear.     Thus one languishes and fails to overcome disbelief.

 

17

Index

  • 17. Boundlessness and Humility:

The shadow of shame represents one’s flaws.    The shadow is what one wishes not to be, though its shadow be part of oneself.     Only, when the shadow is accepted with humility, do its flaws dissolve in the act of loving oneself with compassion.     Ultimately, the fanatic will recognize his incompleteness and become aware of his own insignificance:     The incapacity for completeness looms over all of us.     Only through risk does one learn the extent of one’s bounds and how much further one may go.     We advance through humility and humility appreciates neither truth nor falsehood.     Humility is the acknowledgment of one’s inexorable estrangement from an infinite truth.    Only the humble voice recognizes the struggle for understanding and change.     Both depend on a flight from despair.     For Ortega and for Plato, the mark of the highest values is found in our vulnerability.     If we surrender absolutely, then we find redemption.

 

18

Index

  • 18. Epilogue:

My perspective treats Plato and Ortega outside of any theistic justification.     I leave aside any application of Plato to theological thought.     Likewise,  I ignore any attempt to ascribe religious respects to Ortega’s theory of values.     For me their notions, when applied to theology, are not credible.     I understand Plato and Ortega in their search for the limits of human perception and rationality.     Efforts to apply their philosophies as religious foundations are outside of my purpose.

The depth of Plato and Ortega’s thought is not to be found in a method for objective morality.     Nor is it ethical relativism, nor even is it found in a claim of universality.      Ideologies on morality are derived from norms dictated by theologians, seemingly unwilling to relinquish authority.    The role of the lovers of truth is not to dictate virtue nor to define the godhead.    Their teachings are centered on rationalism.    Their humanism is based on a concept of justice that is antithetical to fixed norms.    The paradigm of true knowledge – according to Plato and Ortega – is derived from love based on the originality of heroism.     This love does not reside outside of the individual.     This love is not found in the promise of a transcendental world.     This love finds man’s salvation in the present.  This love calls for self examination.   And above all, this love is a liberation from the numbness of the mind.

*

Endnotes:

1 For Ortega circunstancia, is a representation of the sum total of influences in the consciousness of a man, thus expressing the reason for his existence.

2 Razón vital stands as Ortega y Gasset’s philosophy which views that reason is, in of itself, an expression of life.

3 I failed to find this Biblical citation.

 

Bibliography:

  • Ortega y Gasset, José, Meditaciones del Quijote:   Meditación Preliminar y Meditación Primera, (Madrid:  PUBLICACIONES DE LA RESIDENCIA DE ESTUDIANTES, SERIE II.—VOL. I, Universidad Central de Madrid, 1914)
  • Cervantes Saavedra, Miguel de. The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha [1605–1615] (Cambridge:   Harvard Publishing Company, 1893.   Translated by John Ormsby. 4 vols. in 8 books.  Limited Edition No. 71/320. 1st edition.
  • Platón. Teeteto. Introducción, traducción y notas de Marcelo Boeri. Buenos Aires: Editorial Losada, 2006.
  • Ortega y Gasset, José, La rebelión de las masas (Madrid: Editorial Revista de Occidente, 1928).   Fue publicado inicialmente en 1927 como una serie de artículos en el diario El Sol, antes de ser recopilado en formato de libro en 1928 por Editorial Revista de Occidente en Madrid.
  • Sarmiento, Edward , “Blackfriars” (Hoboken: John Wiley & Sons, Inc., August 1950), v. 31, No. 365, 356-63.

“In Darkness”

June 30, 2022

Prologue

Following a suggestion to make In Tenebris shorter, I have adapted it for readers who understand that myriad concrete circumstances cannot be subsumed under a single dimension.    Explanations are pointless when confronting human dramas and temperaments.    Clarity is open-minded:    It is attached to what is vital and to the reader’s own intuition.   In these explorations complexity becomes all encompassing and signification multiplies.
Ricardo F Morin, Bala Cynwyd, Pa.; June 30, 2022

_______________________________________________

 

*

Time Magazine named the “Silence Breakers” of the #MeToo movement its 2017 Person of the Year; the President cursed the Press as “fake news,” and temperatures in New York City felt higher than ever.

Amidst all of this, I became juror number 12 in the murder trial of a fourteen-year-old boy.   Now, the search for truth loomed foremost in my mind. Bias and suspicion, how were they to be treated?

The defendant–young, dressed in a crisply starched white shirt and tie–sat barely 30 feet away from us, the jury.   His pleading the fifth and his twisted grimace of a grin were disturbing.

We put aside our apprehensions.   If doubt were to play a part in the case, it would have to come from the evidence.

As a jury we were surprised at the lack of cohesion in the allegations: what witnesses stated didn’t correspond to what the prosecutor argued.   No weapon nor DNA pointed to the identity of the perpetrator.   “What justified the accusation of this young man as a murderer?”

On the 18th day, each of us would have to reach an approximation as to the truth.

The deliberation room was barely large enough for the long table and its 12 uncomfortable chairs.   The air conditioning was old and inefficient.   The temperature was as stifling as it had been in the courtroom.

We jurors were diverse and had little in common.   The foreman was an office manager, comfortable in his role as moderator.   His communication skills were excellent.   Some of us had been reticent and never had voiced an opinion one way or the other.   Others were more voluble.   A teacher remained calm throughout; she listened to others before expressing her own views.   Another juror, number seven, was impatient about the length of the trial; she had a toddler to care for at home.   Aside from myself, there were two other retirees, one of whom was a corporate lawyer.

From the first days of the deliberation, we were uncertain whether the accused had taken any part at all.   On our fourth day, I said:   “the principle eye witness was not credible”; juror number five, the young woman who had been most adamant about the guilt of the accused, began to waver.   Though most jurors still thought him innocent, four remained unconvinced.   The more jurors accepted their own limitations, the more difficult it became to form an opinion.   The phrase “blind justice” turned piercingly poignant.

The majority argued with the four holdouts.   Tensions rose with the thermometer.   The heat of the midday, the humidity, and the noise from the street made us increasingly fractious.   With the windows closed, we turned on the anemic air conditioner and became more fearful than ever of not measuring up.

Our variances put us on edge.   Juror number five persisted categorically:   “the principal eyewitness was not lying.”   The crucial moment, though, for all of us, was when juror number seven voiced in fury:   “the only features visible on the security cameras could have been any one else’s in the gang.”   Slowly, we moved toward common ground. The decision was unanimous, innocent.

After we had returned to the court room, the judge polled us individually.   Indelibly imprinted on our faces was the murdered child’s mother’s face.   Her sorrow contrasted sharply with the clawing glances of the defendant’s family.   I felt deflated, even inadequate.   “Were we right, or wrong?,” I asked myself.

The jury disbanded.   We collected our belongings and moved to an elevator at the opposite end of the court house.   Below, the family of the acquitted awaited.   At our approach, they shouted deafening thanks.

We the jury, the lawyers, and the witnesses were only actors in this absurdity.

The end

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

June 24, 2022

“Vladimir Putin vs Democracy”

April 29, 2022

*

Although. . . victory may coincide with the destruction of humanity,. . . without totalitarianism we would never have known the true radical nature of evil.

Hanna Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1951 – First Edition), pp.46-70.


If liberalism were to succeed as the core of a new world order, it would be based on a belief in the rule of law and a constitutional order:    one that limits executive power in favor of the ability of individuals to make decisions for themselves about the course of their lives; which is only guaranteed through a system of democratic rights and laws.

Francis Fukuyama [Liberalism and Its Discontents (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2022)]: Excerpt from television interview (Channel 4, UK) “Putin’s vision of Russia is not ‘desirable to almost anybody”, April 1, 2022 [1].


I

In her book “Difficult Decisions, about Vladimir Putin” (2014), Hillary Clinton tells us that, as Secretary of State, she attended a ceremony at the St. Petersburg Monument erected to the victims of the Nazi invasion of Leningrad, after which she dined with Putin.   Putin shared with Clinton that his father had served on the front lines of the war against Germany in Leningrad and that he had had the uncanny experience of having rescued his wife alive from a pile of corpses, just before they were being buried.   Putin added that his mother, having survived an almost certain death, gave birth to him after the war (Vladimir had two brothers who had died of natural causes before and during the war).   Understandably, she felt a kind of compassion that these events had left on his psyche.   In her book Clinton poses to the reader the question as to whether these events could explain Putin’s mythology about what it meant for him to be Russian.   For her, correct or not, however, it must be taken that this story gave an account of Putin’s perception of his own history and that of Russia.

II

From the US Secretaries of State, Colin Powell, Condoleezza Rice, John Kerry, Hillary Clinton, and Rex Tillerson, we have learned that Putin expected and demanded respect and recognition of Russian capabilities.   The key would not be to respect his values or actions, but rather to respect the importance of his role as a leader.   According to these Secretaries, the key to negotiations must correspond to the present, recognizing that Putin is ambitious in his purposes, and that, although he can adapt to circumstances as they arise, he remains unpredictable.   We would have to expect his opposition to Western ideas, in particular on the basis of his own notions of equality.   These are salient features of the Russian president, particularly with regard to his relations with the United States.   Nevertheless, in the past, Putin has maintained long-standing collaborations with the US, regarding the sanctions against Iran, the nuclear agreement with Iran, and the air corridor over Russia to resupply American troops in Afghanistan.

III

On November 8, 1991, the leaders of Russia, Ukraine, and Belarus signed at a state dacha the Belovezh Agreement (the Creation of the Commonwealth of Independent States) to dissolve the Soviet Union:   a move that Putin later proclaimed as “ the greatest geopolitical catastrophe of the century” [2].

IV

Following the closing down of the East German KGB in 1991, Putin returned to Russia, where he then first rose to the post of first deputy mayor of St. Petersburg in 1994.   In 1996, he joined the presidential staff of Boris Yeltsin as a deputy to Pavel Borodin, the Kremlin’s chief administrator.   In July 1998, President Boris Yeltsin appointed him director of the Federal Security Service (FSB, the domestic successor to the KGB) and, shortly thereafter, he became secretary of the Russian Security Council.

In the beginning, Yeltsin nominated Putin as prime minister in 1999.   Rising crime, institutional corruption, and economic difficulties marred Yeltsin’s regime.   Suddenly, on December 31, 1999, Yeltsin announced his resignation and named Putin interim president.   Vowing to rebuild an already weakened Russia, Putin was victorious in the March 2000 elections, winning 53 percent of the votes.   His campaign promised to eliminate corruption and create a strong market economy.   Afterwards, Boris Yeltsin came to lament his support of Putin.   In March 2004, Putin won a second term as president with more than 70 percent of the vote after oil prices fueled a consumer boom and raised living standards, a trend that continued for another four years.   In 2007, Putin advocated the principles of democratic equality in his speech at the 43rd Munich Security Conference, when he accused the US of imposing a unipolar world and attacked its EU participants for complicity [2].   Then with a controversial constitutional provision, Putin was forced to step down in 2008.   Putin chose Dmitry Medvedev as his successor and Medvedev, in turn, nominated Putin as the country’s prime minister within hours of taking office on May 7, 2008.

V

In 2008, prime minister Putin directed the annexation of two parts of the Republic of Georgia by military force and, in 2009, suppressed the separatist movement in Chechnya.   Putin cultivated a nationalist fervor, being re-elected president for a third time in 2012, and nominating Medvedev as primer minister. Violent measures quelled the resulting popular uprising in the capital and the rest of the country.   According to information sources of journalists in exile [3], the mortality rate of the opposition rose significantly.   Putin’s measures were to repress the opposition through incarceration, as well as poisoning them and extorting them, inside and outside the country.   In line with his aspiration to reinforce a Soviet like Federation of Russia, Putin began to affirm that the prestige of the past had been lost and that he intended to restore it.   This is reflected in his 2013 New York Times op-ed [4]—“A Plea for Caution from Russia” — where he once again focused his distrust on the US.   On Feb. 27, 2014, Russian troops started annexing Ukraine’s Crimea region after Ukrainian protesters had ousted pro Russian president Viktor Yanukovich.   The following month, Russia incorporated Crimea after a Russian referendum. Subsequently, both the United States and the European Union imposed sanctions.

On September 30, 2015, Russia launched air strikes in Syria in its biggest Middle East intervention in decades, turning the tide of the conflict in favor of President Bashar al-Assad.   In November 2016, Donald Trump was elected president of the United States after having promised to improve ties with Moscow.   American authorities have determined that Russia tried to interfere in the election in favor of him.   On March 19, 2018, Putin won his re-election in a landslide with a mandate that would keep him in office until 2024.   In 2021, he approved constitutional amendments that would allow him for re-election through 2036.

VI

In 2021, before Russia’s invading Ukraine, the Biden administration was already completing the withdrawal of military forces from Afghanistan, a policy incidentally initiated by the former president Donald Trump.   It coincided with Putin’s article, “On the historical unity of Russians and Ukrainians” [5] as preamble to the war against Ukraine, which began on February 24, 2022.

VII

Now in its tenth week, the war in Ukraine appears to be evolving into a protracted conflict.   Although Ukraine has accomplished a somewhat successful first phase of the war, Russian belligerence has centered on eastern and southern territories of the country.   Without an increased support of NATO, Ukraine is faced with a more difficult situation than it has been in the past.

Having not succeeded in overthrowing Ukrainian government, Putin has begun a second phase to the eastern Dombass region.   His new goal seems to be the separation of the Dombass from the rest of Ukraine and, thus, to control access to the Black Sea.

VIII

For Putin, one of his propaganda vehicles is his defense of the Russian language, which would be equivalent to the assumption of England annexing the United States of America as a reason to protect the English language.   On Russian television, Putin explains to a 12-year-old girl that the “tragedy” in the Donbass is that Ukraine was committing “genocide” against Russian-speakers [6].

In the context of this narrative, Russian state television broadcasts that “the special military operation is one to establish peace.”

IX

Ukraine’s offers for peace continue to be rejected by Vladimir Putin [7].   Ukrainian President Zelenskyy has maintained that a compromise should be negotiated from where it all began:   in Crimea in 2014.   For Putin, however, the annexation of Crimea, just as the invasion of Ukraine, is historical revisionism.   Many observers say that the war is not so much an existential crisis for Russia, as it is a struggle for the survival of the regime itself.

X

Is it possible that Putin’s failure in this war will bring to a halt future attacks by a totalitarian regime against its neighbors?   We can ask ourselves if there could be a united front against these attacks.   If not, then the question remains.

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

Footnotes:

[1] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwuMMmUCw98

[2] 2007 https://youtu.be/hQ58Yv6kP44

[3] Zaborona Media https://zaborona.com/en/ and Ukrainska Pravda News https://www.pravda.com.ua/eng/

[4] https://www.nytimes.com/2013/09/12/opinion/putin-plea-for-caution-from-russia-on-syria.html

[5] http://en.kremlin.ru/events/president/news/66181— published in July 2021 by Putin’s presidential office, in which he explained Western support for Ukraine as a nefarious conspiracy against the unity of the Russian Federation. In it, Putin plays a questionable role as a historian to justify his determination to confront the powers that intervene in the sovereignty of his country.

[6] https://youtu.be/UzS1c_lSpNM

[7] https://www.ft.com/content/7b341e46-d375-4817-be67-802b7fa77ef1

“M + T”

January 20, 2022

*

Acknowledgments

I recognize the contributions provided over the course of eight years by my brothers and sisters, Alberto José, Andreína Teresa, Bonnie María Teresa, and José Galdino, to whom I am most grateful for their safeguarding these memories.   I am also indebted to my cousin Eduardo Morín Brea, son of Calixto Eduardo Morín Infante for the biographical Morín family’s summaries.   I also thank my Uncle Calixto Eduardo for his guidance at the beginning of my education in the United States.   Likewise, I am grateful to my father José Galdino Morín Infante for the incentives he made possible there.    I also express my gratitude and affection to our mother for her warmth and optimism.   Also I acknowledge cousins and uncles from both the Morín and Tortolero familes for their genealogical research; I am especially indebted to my aunt Ala Gaidasz Salamaja de Tortolero, widow of our mother’s brother Federico Tortolero Rivero, and to her late sister Lina Angelina Gaidasz Salamaja de Pystrak.   And finally, I pay my highest respects for the support of my most loyal friend and editor, professor emeritus, Billy Bussell Thompson, Ph.D.

Ricardo Federico Morín Tortolero , Fort Lauderdale, January 20, 2022

*

Dedicated to my brothers and sisters

*

Chapter 1

The Inexorable Passage of Time

“How can one travel through time on the hands of ancestors?   En quelque sorte, one plays the role of their guardian.”

Ricardo F. Morín

*

Genetic diversity is innate to the human condition.    The figuration that some animals are more diverse than others is both limited and subjective.   A more appropriate way would be, as an Andalusian friend described it:   “. . .looking for relatives from all over the world.”   Certainly, I seek to frame the stories of my parents through their ancestors, so as to develop a biography, which goes beyond a mere listing of dates and places.   I want to define links to customs and thinking.   Where this narrative leads I know not.

A few years ago, I took a DNA test through Ancestry and 23andme.   The results showed 40% of the markers to be of Spanish and Portuguese origin.   The remaining 60% were non-Iberian: from Europe, Africa, and the New World.

*

Chapter 2

What Is Consciousness?

*

Knowing ourselves implies a need to understand the influences that affect our consciousness:  Who we are and where we come from. Although we are limited in the short term—in its understanding because we do not have absolute control of our faculties.   It is important, more than ever in human history, to know our origins as far as we can.    The notion of self-knowledge is an intrinsic and unavoidable need.   How else can we reflect on our human spirit, both on our imperfections and our aspirations, if we do not distinguish between variability and changing nature?

*

Chapter 3

Etymologies and Toponymies

*

Modern scientific etymological study is based on the methods and findings of historical and comparative linguistics, the basic principles of which were established by linguists during the 19th century.

Encyclopedia Britannica, 2021.

*

Understanding the etymology of proper names and their geographical locations derives from comparative linguistics, as a way to sort people into groups–by occupation, place of origin, clan, parentage, adoption, and physical characteristics.

The surname Morín derives from the Old French Moré, sobriquet of the ‘Moor’ or moret.   In diminutive forms it means ‘black’ or ‘dark brown’, or a Bereber from Northwest Africa.   The term was used by Christian Europeans to designate the Islamic inhabitants of the Maghreb, the Iberian Peninsula, Sicily, and Malta during the Middle Ages:   The term moro was applied indiscriminately to Arabs, Berbers, and Arabized Iberians.   The surname Morín was associated with the moors of Spain.   In the 8th century Arabs entered the Iberian Peninsula and remained a political force in some fashion until 1492, with the fall of Granada.   The surname Morín was found mainly in the province of Santa Cruz de Tenerife in the Canary Islands, and to a lesser extent in Madrid and Salamanca.

The surname Tortolero comes from Lombardy.   The term derives from the name given to pigeons of the genus Columbina, “dove” or “tortolita”, which comes from the Latin turtur, probably an onomatopoeia.   Since its origins in ancient times, the name Tortolero was associated with divinatory mythology, because of its ability to send messages, among other qualities, and was designated for those who raised turtledoves by trade.   A tortolero was also a mystic.   In Spain the main locus of the surname is Andalusia; it originated from Écija.   The Tortoleros spread throughout the New World, especially Mexico, Venezuela, and Puerto Rico.

*

Chapter 4

Origins

*

Like many Creole families, both surnames, Morín and Tortolero, find documentation from the Inquisition onward. In 2015 the Spanish government offered to restore citizenship to families who had lost it through mandatory expulsion. [1]

The Morín family, merchants from the Canaries, took up residence in Caracas in 1745.   During the colonial period, their descendants worked as ranchers, and then after Independence (1821), they served in the Federalist army fighting various caudillos.

In contrast, the Tortoleros, according to María Teresa Tortolero Rivero, go back to 19th-century Toledo.   The Morín surname can be traced through documentation in the National Library of Venezuela and from ecclesiastical records in both the state of Guárico and the Capital District of Venezuela.   Before their arrival in Venezuela, the occupation of the Tortolero family is unknown, but afterwards, they worked as cane growers and coffee farmers in Altos de Reyes.

*

Chapter 5

The Morín Family

*

In 1813 the fourth paternal great-grandfather, bachiller José Calixto Morín Fuentes was the parish priest in Lezama de Orituco (founded in 1688), today known as Altagracia de Orituco [2].   His slave María de Los Santos was the fourth great-grandmother of our family.   She gave José Calixto two children, whom, according to baptismal records, were emancipated by him.   One of her children was our third great-grandfather, Críspulo Morín. From the union between Narcisa Landaeta and him was born Venancio Antonio (1843-1929), known as El Tuerto.   Great-grandfather Venancio Morín Landaeta became a Federalist general in the Azul regime.

Venancio Antonio Morín Landaeta married his first cousin Andrea Fuentes Ramírez in 1870.   This union bore seven children:   Luis Ramón, Críspulo, Jesús Antonio, Venancio, Sofía, Catalina, and José Calixto.   Save our grandfather José Calixto Morín Fuentes, all of his brothers were lawyers.    José Calixto studied music. served as the director of a band in Altagracia de Orituco, and was a composer of waltzes and other popular genres.

Later, from the union of José Calixto Morín Fuentes (1892-1967) and Domitila Infante Hernández (1892-1985), nine children were born: Calixto Eduardo (pharmacologist and philologist), José Galdino (lawyer and Doctor of Political Science), Jesús María–nicknamed Chucho–(educator and government official), Sofía del Carmen (assistant to the director of the National Library of Venezuela), Venancio Enrique (merchant), María Josefina–nicknamed Pipina–(housewife), Luis Eduardo (lawyer), María de Lourdes–nicknamed Malula–(school secretary), and Isaura Inés (housewife).

The Morín Infante family lived in Altagracia de Orituco until 1944. In that year, José Calixto Morín Fuentes was appointed to the staff of the Caracas Military Band.   Two years earlier, the oldest son Calixto Eduardo (1917-2000) and José Galdino (04/18/1921-08/04/1997) were students at the Central University of Venezuela.   Calixto Eduardo became responsible for his brother at the request of José Calixto, who worried about how difficult it was to discipline him.   José Galdino and Calixto Eduardo stayed with their uncle Luis Ramón Morín Fuentes, the older brother of their father José Calixto.   During this time José Galdino seduced the housekeeper, who gave birth to a child of his.   Our cousin Luis Morín Loreto, son of Luis Ramón, adopted the boy and named him César Morín Padrón.   José Galdino studied law graduating summa cum laude in the Central University of Venezuela, July 26, 1947.   His doctoral thesis, entitled “Human Capital,” studied the basic principles of human rights first elucidated by Frédéric Bastiat (1801-1850).   Thereafter, José Galdino excelled as a trial lawyer in both civil and criminal cases.   He never became involved in Venezuelan politics.

*

Chapter 6

The Tortolero Family

*

The maternal great-grandparents were Elogio Tortolero Cabrera and Paula Ojeda.   The second surname of the maternal great-grandmother is still unknown, as is the existence of her brothers and sisters.   It is known that the great-grand-father Elogio had four brothers and sisters:   José Antonio (who died in Ezequiel Zamora’s guerrillas), Tobías, Rosa Manuela, and María José. It is believed that they were farmers.

The Tortolero Cabreras owned a plantation in the state of Carabobo, called “el fundo de Marta López,” in Altos de Reyes.   From the union of Elogio Tortolero Cabrera and Paula Ojeda was born Rafael Eusebio Tortolero Ojeda (1893-1938).   Rafael Eusebio married Marcolina Rivero (1898-1937). They inherited the ranch.   They had five children:   Lucía (housewife), Leopoldo (grocer), Rafael Eusebio (contractor), María Teresa (lawyer), and Federico (pharmaceutical representative).   Grandfather Rafael Eusebio, however, led a double life supporting six illegitimate children, who were never involved with his legitimate ones.

Grandmother Marcolina Rivero died at the age of 39 from eclampsia, and a year later our grandfather Rafael Eusebio Tortolero Ojeda died at the age of 49 from pneumonia.

*

Chapter 7

María Teresa Tortolero Rivero

*

María Teresa (08/11/1927-06/18/2010) at the age of 11 years was orphaned.   From 1938 to 1944 she attended the Colegio de Lourdes in Valencia.   The priest Francisco Martínez made possible her admission, and she boarded there for six years.   She then studied for 2 years at the Liceo Pedro Gual and, then, she began working as a hygienist in Valencia.   Subsequently she qualified as a secretary in Los Teques, state of Miranda.   Here she met and married a Russian emigrant Aleksander Sarayeff in 1949.   A few days after their marriage, he disappeared.

*

Chapter 8

María Teresa and José Galdino

*

In 1950, María Teresa Tortolero Rivero moved to Tacarigua where she met José Galdino Morín Infante, the head of employees at the Tacarigua Sugar Mill.   On his advice, María Teresa filed for divorce.   Sarayeff reappears with threats against her, and José Galdino, as her lawyer, has an injunction preventing his contacting her.   Then, in 1951, owing to a lack of medical resources and neonatal incubators, José Galdino and María Teresa lose their first born child, two months prematurely (Carlos Alberto).   The boy lived only a few days.   A year later (February 17, 1952), María Teresa, at the age of 24, marries José Galdino, 31.

José Galdino bought a house on a 30-acre piece of land in the outskirts of Guacara.   The land, framed between the road to Guacara and the highway to Caracas, had a house with an enclosed swimming pool.    There three children were born:    Alberto José (lawyer) in 1953, Ricardo Federico (author and visual artist) in 1954, and Andreína Teresa (lawyer) in 1955. The parents’ families often visited them.    Then the Morín Tortoleros moved to the town of Naguanagua.    In Naguanagua the fourth child was born:   María Teresa, called Bonnie by the family (playwright, director, and teacher) in 1958.   In 1959, the Morín Tortolero family moved, for the last time, to the urbanización Carabobo in Valencia.   In Valencia the fifth child was born:   José Galdino (import/export merchant) in 1960.

After fifteen years of marriage, María Teresa, at the urgency of the reverend Dr. Simón Salvatierra [3], became a candidate for the State Assembly of Carabobo and subsequently was elected thereto.   Her husband José Galdino forced her to resign the post because of the history of the party leader Marcos Pérez Jiménez’ persecution of the Morin family.   Then she opened a boutique and, once again, her husband disapproves of her status as a shopkeeper.

*

Chapter 9

The Allure of Superstition

*

María Teresa held herself to be clairvoyant.   People referred by close friends often came to her for spiritual advice.   Inspired by Theosophism and the Rosicrucian order, she delved into metaphysical studies.   Seeking council for her own enlightenment she frequented séances.   José Galdino questioned her sanity.   He, on the other hand, practiced his own rituals of magic.    His clients and friends gave him advice on how to keep enemies at bay, the roots of his own fate, and the principles of casting spells.

*

Chapter 10

Separation and Divorce

*

Marriages remain intact out of mutual understanding.   Such a union is possible as long as there are shared stories.   But without trust relationships fall apart.

José Galdino and María Teresa were unable to deal with their differences.   After 16 years of marriage, José Galdino remained an inveterate womanizer, and María Teresa, feeling unreciprocated, grew tired of him and his affairs.    In a sense, they knew not their own emotions and deficiencies.

For José Galdino, divorce was out of the question:   a threat to his status and finances.   By Venezuelan law, divorce meant divided property, something which he was unwilling to do.   When notified in 1975 of his wife’s petition for divorce, his fury became uncontrollable.

Knowing how he maneuvered in divorce cases, María Teresa blocked any possible transfer of marital property.   As a result he attempted to throw his wife’s lawyer (Padrino Príncipe) down the stairs of the courthouse.

The divorce decree was issued in 1979, just a year before José Galdino remarried (Piedad Urán Cardona:   a dentistry student, who was 25 years his junior).   The division of assets between José Galdino and María Teresa did not conclude until 1985.   Despite the court’s ruling in her favor, María Teresa fired her lawyer and took on representation by her son Alberto José!    In so doing, she had to renounce large parts of her own rights.   She now felt exhausted and lacking any sense of justice.   From there on she concentrated only on her own future.

Between 1975-85, María Teresa dedicated herself to becoming a lawyer (perhaps to revenge her feelings of having been treated unfairly by the legal system).   In preparation for law school, she fell in love with her tutor of mathematics, José Espirilión Valecillos Carrillo (Piri).   He was a high school teacher in Valencia and fifteen years her junior.   As she prepared for admission at the law school of the University of Carabobo, he too decided to apply as well.   Before finishing their legal studies, they married and took their degree in 1992:   She was 64 and he was 49.

.

.

*

Chapter 11

Irony of Ironies

*

Inexplicably, María Teresa and Piri worked in the same office as that of her ex-husband José Galdino and her son.    María Teresa believed her previous sacrifices had given her the privilege of becoming part of that firm.   Her practice focused on protecting the legal rights of minors.    Her second marriage, however, was as disappointing to her as the first and was dissolved after only two years.    Then in 1996, she announced that her divorce from Jose Galdino had been a mistake.   She was now mentally and emotionally defeated and began to manifest a kind of cognitive disassociation (was this simply depression or the beginnings of Alzheimer’s?).

At the same time José Galdino’s marriage to Piedad Urán was in turmoil.   Since 1993, she had been asking for the abrogation of their prenuptial agreement–thus forcing her to relinquish any property rights accumulated during the marriage.    José Galdino denied the request.   Within three years, however, fortune handed Piedad freedom.

Between 1994 and 1995, José Galdino developed symptoms of Pick’s Neurological Syndrome, leaving him unable to walk, talk, and reason.   Although, I sought treatment for him, his wife’s interference was a major obstacle.   On November 1996, following the suggestion of my father, I returned to the United States to treat my own health problems.   A few months later, José Galdino was operated on a cerebral hemorrhage.   José Galdino died from pneumonia August 4, 1997.

By 1998, María Teresa could no longer continue practicing law.   To fill her time her daughter Bonnie urged her to return to writing poetry.   María Teresa alleged José Galdino had burned what she had written before.   Between 2004-05 she reconstructed some 15 poems, which were later distributed to members of the family under the title Magia Azul.

Chapter 12

The Last Years of María Teresa

In 1999 at the age of 72, María Terersa, fulfilling a life long dream, and I traveled to Europe.   We visited Madrid, Paris, Venice, and Rome.   On the trip, María Teresa remembered when five years before she had stumbled on her way to court:   For her it was my consolation of her that amounted to the sharing of memories.   At the airport days later, she watched our reflection in a mirror in the airline’s private club and said:   “I hope to keep this moment forever in my memory.”

In 2004, I invited her to celebrate her seventy-seventh birthday in New York City.   On this last trip, she met David, my husband of nine years, and his mother, Eva, who was four years her senior.   María Teresa admired Eva’s vitality.   The following year, María Teresa was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.

In 2009, she languished in the advanced stages of the disease, and we knew that her treatment had to be continued in a clinic.   It was no longer possible for her daughter Andreina to assume sole responsibility for her care.   Likewise her son José Galdino spared no effort in the care of his mother.   His dedication and conduct were exemplary.

At the age of 84 María Teresa died, June 18, 2010.

*

Epilogue

*

A Journey Through Time

*

In writing this story, I acknowledge my own limitations in trying to understand lives I thought I knew intimately.   My family and I do not know who they were, any more than we can really know ourselves.   This highlights an evanescence that seeks to define our relationships, which barely touch the edges of our existence.   There’s so much we can’t say.   Our own regrets, feelings of shame, or recklessness can only be censors to our understanding.

The recognition that life is imperfect is the definition of dignity.   It should be noted that a sentimental essay is not the goal dishonoring our existence; it is rather an incongruity covering up our imperfections.    Our lives are celebrated for their differences. Whether we nurture each other or inflict pain on each other, it’s a matter of tolerance.   What would be most remarkable would be forgiveness.

.

Edited by Billy Bussell Thompson

Footnotes:

*

María Teresa Tortolero Rivero through her life.   From left to right:   1. In 1945 with the Pedro Gual Liceo uniform.   2. In 1954, during her third pregnancy, accompanied by her husband José Galdino Morín Infante, and followed by her brother-in-law Chucho Morín Infante.   3. In 1992 becoming a lawyer, wearing cap and gown with diploma and medal.   4. In 2004 at the age of 77 in front of her son-in-law David Lowenberger and holding to his mother’s arm, my mother-in-law, Eva Lowenberger.

*

Poetry of María Teresa

Blue Magic (Magia Azul)

(Dedicated to my Children)

i

WHEN IT BLOOMS IN SPRING

(June 15 1974)

*

When it blooms in spring
beautiful flowers from my garden
I offer you my whole life
because suddenly …
it is finally going away.
I take care of your soil, I water your plants,
and sweet fruits I would like to give to you
from my fields of gold and silver
when it blooms in spring.
Beautiful flowers from my garden
crossed the valleys, deep seas
with their cherub wings.
I leave your soil and beloved hearths.
For the sap no longer gives nourishment
nor does it till the fields of their songs.
trailing their aroma until they fade away.

In yon green valleys
in which I dreamt
and that is the goal of my stroll
towards the plants I loved so much.

ii

WINGS BLOWN AWAY

(June 15 1974)

(Bonnie Morín Tortolero’s poem, added to our mother’s collection)

*

We were born free
like red poppies with falling wings
with an innate unease
shedding petals up and down gullies and hills.
and in the blinking of an eye
they flew away …

In what bitter nest
will they shed their yearnings
if a veil covered their sight
over the glint of their hearts
facing the world
as if it were a promised land?

*

(Poem by Maria Teresa in response to her daughter’s)

*

... Follow its swift flight
as time passes by
for wide and long is its course
and if at its first chance it falls,
badly wounded sparrow
raise your eyes beyond the clouds,
fear your lot no more
lest cowardly the flight might be
for love is divine.

iii

COME TO ME

(June 30, 2004)

*

My beloved, come to me
if you loved me
for I’m waiting for you.
Do not make me beg
for I love you
and I suffer not knowing of you.

Starving of light
of your gaze
so that I may live.
For you crossed
my path
to be loved
for eternity.

Life seems absurd
in some instances!
If a match cannot exist
with room for hope.
Letting things go
to nothing more than the draw of luck.

Leave everything in its place
for oblivion is imposed
and so be it.

iv

TO LIVE FOR THEM IS MY VIRTUE

(April 9, 2004)

*

From the narrowness of form
the principle of virtue arises,
the virtue of my loves,
the virtue of loving.

Feeling how much I love them
I exist for them.
It’s all I have.
It’s all I am.
Without them I would be nothing,
to live for them is my virtue.

I love them, I love them …
Thanks to my maker,
Love is life.

v

I REFUSE ACCEPTANCE

(April 14, 2004)

*

I don’t want to force barriers.
I don’t want to have chimeras in my dreams.
Nor to encourage the illusions of a false hope.

As fragile as a straw in the wind.
thus, I wish to erase
all ungrateful memory of its existence

So much that I wish
with the very force of love,
which I carry indelibly within,
in opposition to chance,
to that one toying with us
as if we were ignorant.

vi

DO NOT FORSAKE ME

(May 11, 2004)

*

Instill in me your creative force
to praise you with rapture,
all that my soul longs for.
Eager for your compassion
I implore your presence.
Fill my soul with your divine love
and do not forsake me.

vii

I DREAMT

(May 11, 2004)

*

I dreamt that I was a diva
of the Bel canto
that with devotion
I sang to my father
while daydreaming,
my companion since infancy
with a sweet melody
within myself,
which I still sing not knowing why.

viii

WHEN A DREAM BECOMES REALITY

(January 26, 2004)

*

What may have been audacious for me
for others may have been presumptive.
To judge deed rather than intentions,
Man has no dominion.
He may dream
as a way to spend time
by limiting himself to dream.
No one may be hurt.
He may be just with his dreams alone.
But while dreaming as a way of life
his dreams may also be fulfilled.

ix

MOST BEAUTIFUL OF ALL

(September 11 2004)

*

She was beautiful, the most beautiful among the beautiful
with an upturned and fine nose
with thin and expressive lips
with huge heavenly eyes
with a smiling gaze.
And with a sweet voice inviting to sing alone.
I sang with her
In the shadow of a picture window
And as I sang
Mocking birds joined in
and they began to sing

The song they heard.
Morning birds
that came to her window
singing at dawn
awakening the day

Mama smiled
and between songs she told me:
“You are one another sparrow
my good girl, my smart girl
an insight I shall provide
so that between flight and flight
your dreams may be realized,
so that between dream and dream
you may also learn to fly.”

x

ABSENCE

(June 13, 2005)

*

How much does absence contain
distresses and troubles of the heart
for whom awaits the absent one
never to return, leaving doubts
for whom awaits in suspension,
for not hearing from her beloved one,
whatever happened to him?
One cannot be filled in quiescence,
empty without his love,
and to know best how to await
until his return
with the loving sameness of before.

xi

AN ANGEL FROM ABOVE

(June 30, 2004)

*

An Angel descended from above
teeming with light
and his eyes like the splendor of two stars
reflected upon my soul,
conquering me.

Yet to be left unrequited
not knowing how to live without.
Where has my beloved angel gone?
Where did he go?
Who may reflect upon him
as much as I did?
Waiting for you.
One has to learn.
For you will return to me
to be made happy
as I always did.

xii

AFTER LOVING HIM FIRST

(March 1978)

*

Why did I meet him for love?
Why did I love him
having to live with his absence?
What a cruel chance!
to have poured my love
not knowing if corresponded
to end having to endure his distance
beyond my comprehension.
Whatever happened to that love?
to his falling in love?
The one I saw shinning in his eyes?

xiii

IF ONLY I COULD SEE

(March 1978)

*

I transit like a wanderer among shadows
and though stone blind I wish to see,
looking and seeking among things
where daylight does not enter;
looking between all things
until I find a kindred spirit.

I ask My Lord in his infinite mercy
to take compassion of my vexing pains
if I suffer for deluding myself God like
I also suffer from feeling desolate:
The pain that steals my soul
and all the grace of its  glory.

xiv

GREATNESS YOU BESTOWED UPON MY SPIRIT

(July 1979)

*

Greatness you bestowed upon my spirit
for the whole world rests upon my bosom
though in sadness I stray
in vain attempts to redeem my heart.

As pariah in a desert
in my migrant existence
I feel the prick of painful thorns.
and the corrosive doubt of uncertainty.

My home’s encumbered by the punching of loneliness
only absence occupies it.
Why have you forsaken me?
Why so much cruelty?
If born to love
when for love’s sake
I wish to be faithful.

xv

BLUE MAGIC

(July 9, 2004)

*

You shall see how
the golden eagle in swift flight
will reach to infinity.

You shall see all we love
turns Blue by magic.
It will come to you.

And you shall see how the magic of love
transforms your heart,
and empowers the joys of life,
our dream so long awaited,
to love and being loved!