While smoking a cigar in the backyard, I had my two dogs, Bowie and Nala, with me. Bowie, the smaller one, is a Cavalier King Charles, like Disney’s Lady in Lady and the Tramp. He knows he was made to be hugged. In fact, his breed is also known as the Love Sponge. The official name of it came from the fact that a certain King Charles of England couldn’t go anywhere without a bunch of dogs like Bowie.

When I think that this world has room for breed- ing a being made for love, I have to believe it…


In Barcelona, I felt the warmth of emotions, of the sun, and of the connection between people, in the spontaneity of an exuberant life. The excellence of all that light, sea, passion, and devotion, helps the Latins of all Latins not to be intimidated by extremes of emotion. They are personal, dramatic, noisy, and cathartic, expressing distinct emotions and even opposing feelings back-to-back with no fear of incoherence.

The great cineaste Almodóvar plays with the polarities that rule moral judgement by often annihilating the limits between right and wrong, delinquency and sanity, when showing the same character from opposite angles…


Once, when my brother and I were children, we found ourselves ready to leave the beach with Dad, having having finished some sand sculptures we’d taken a few strenuous hours to make. More often than not, under both our parents’ guidance, we’d been training to shape an element as light, elusive, and ephemeral as sand, to participate in a contest taking place in the following weeks.

Realizing we were about to walk away from the work we did, some kids gathered a few steps around and looked at it with piercing eyes that immediately revealed their predatory intention to Father…


“Edgar, let’s talk of Anito!” I said, one of the many times I reached out to my little brother at night, attempting to bridge his exile to mine in those moments we were glued to our respective beds and confined to the darkness of our bedroom in order to go to sleep earlier than what felt like the wild bedtime of our parents, who often socialized at night as if we didn’t exist. Our bedroom wasn’t pitch black, because Mom allowed the door to stay half open, letting in some of the hallway light. …


I turn another page, in awe with Proust’s courage to face pain, in awe with his courage, period. His words identify intelligence, love, and courage. Can this “holy trinity” be what we call depth?

I am still at the airport. This time my carry-on wasn’t searched by security, for I had not packed the single tome of À la recherche du temps perdu in it. Instead, I’d switched it for an iPad with a downloaded version of this masterpiece and many other titles, at a tiny fraction of the volume of that printed, single volume of Proust’s masterpiece. Even at…


In a forgotten time of the past, people lived in a different way. In communion with nature, they were open armed to unpredictability. Nobody planned, nor anticipated the future in the attempt to control it — the illusion of being defended from life. If not altogether happy, everybody was at peace. The exception was two anemic, similar, lonely, and frustrated cousins, called Comfort and Fear. With no friends, they were shadows that lived behind people and had to follow them in order to move. They were elongated, pretentious, and thought they could become very powerful if the right opportunity presented…


Humbleness is cruel in the death of a dog, and the generosity of it while they die is a slow-release torture.

Nala was feeling like a failure, not because life was everything for her, but because her love for me was beyond everything. As a puppy, she’d been sure she’d defend my family forever, and throughout the years, her adult heart became even surer and more committed to this vow. But the “foreverness” of her love was transformed overnight for her, and despite her, into borrowed time. She was already old, and from one day to the next her body…


image by Edgar Duvivier

Before Time cheated existence as its father, Orgasm popped out of a moment of peace between God and the devil. Being atemporal, it had good and evil, before and after, continuation and conclusion, beginning, end, all at once. But it did not threaten Time too much because in order for it to be reached, one needed Time’s service. One had to wait, get close to the person one was attracted to, and spend some moments charming him or her. But people often played mind games in those moments, making the path to Orgasm lengthier, more sinuous than the mating rituals…


illustration by Edgar Duvivier

The Imminence of Life

Olivia announced her future existence in one of the most beautiful dreams I’ve ever had. In my dream, I was in the driveway of the house where we lived, and saw a star floating in the clear, fading blue, evening sky. It was a sharp sphere of light that alone claimed all the heavenly extension around it. It was the owner, the first one, the announcer of the night. As large and precise as a tennis ball, it was a mystery I’d never imagined before, and like inaugurating an entirely new universe in which the astronomical…


American Identity

Do you guys think Trump is cornering himself into such absurdity as to be eventually impeached? After his mentioning the building of a wall between the US and Mexico…How will American people, who are used to freedom and objectivity, who have been steadily marching towards the goal of non bigotry, non prejudice, who knew not just how to welcome foreign contribution, but to even adapt it (like pizzas, from the Italians, tacos from the Mexicans, etc etc) to their way of life, put up with this insanity? How can America become retrograde, after giving, and having always wanted…

Eleonora Duvivier

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