"Curiosity and judgement cannot coexist..."

...said my yoga teacher, Philip Urso, via a podcast of excellent classes called "LIVE, LOVE,

Happy cries can be ugly, too

TEACH." I'd rather have a fun quote to title my blogs, but I'm mostly talking to Stella and Usche and we don't share the same sense of humor. Anyway, this concept was one of those POWBANGWOW revelations. And so appropriate for the day that followed...

8/30, 3p

San Miguel is the definition of Don’t Judge a Book by its Cover. Houses and store fronts appear to be solid walls with door shaped holes. When you walk slowly (not my speed) and stick your head into different holes (really not my speed) you can discover gorgeous hotels, ornate haciendas and full artist markets. 

I slow from a gallop to a wander. I’m not disappointed with the results, as it’s making San Miguel oodles more interesting than cool walls and doors. 

 I wander into Centro Cultural ”El Nigromante”, the cultural center, because of its

Centro Cultural "El Nigromante"

abundance of flyers for current activities. At first glance, it just looks like a walled Plaza. (It’s boring when the theme just punches you in the face over and over like this.) Then I stick my head in a room- it’s basically a museum! But also there's a ballet class happening! And free Philosophy classes advertised! All surrounding a gorgeous fountain and grassy chill out space! I LIKE THIS PLACE. 

Rooms are dedicated to different artists. This ain’t your grandparents' art. The artists are provocative, surrealists, sensual. One room houses a mural that covers the walls and ceiling that takes my breath away. I think the common denominator is they all studied in Mexico. I'm being awful about details this trip.

Fav: Las adventures de Yui en el país de las maravillas, by Yui Sakamoto

On my way home, I pass a store with an open store front for a change. Casa Corazón. I see

Want.

hearts... I was OBSESSED with hearts in my 20s like every other basic bisch. I almost walk away, because I’m too old and cool to get so excited about a store full of hearts anymore, and it’s probably half-cheese, half-suck anyway...

I stick my head in. There. Are. Hearts. Everywhere. Obviously. There is also a beautifully scripted mural over the doorway. It dedicates the store to Xóchitl Sánchez's (the artist) grandma. Fifteen seconds in and I’m choked up. There are tributes to the Sánchez's grandma, and also to love, treasure, hope, and joy, all over the front room of the store- because this warm fuzzy place is an open puzzle of rooms that go on to feature angels and clouds and love and softness in general. 

I melt. The hard candy shell cracks and I start crying in the middle of that stupid store. It’s so full of goodness and light, I JUST CAN’T. Xóchitl Sánchez approaches me (this is before I’m fully crying, thank God), and I babble in broken Spanish about how much I love her store, how beautiful, how lovely, how I’ll be back to buy something but I’m here for three weeks and it’s my first day

My best go: "My grandmother's heart was the world where I
lived happily, until one day her heart burst into a million
pieces. We who remember her carry her in our hearts...
(I can't make out the rest) This temple of the heart
is dedicated to my grandmother."

and I just can’t buy everything I want on the first day, etc, etc. I wonder if she gets this a lot because she is super gracious...
Or maybe she’s just an angel from heaven, Bianca! Stop thinking people are as fist-hearted as you are!

Anyway. I leave when I start softly sobbing over a little scrappy cat made out of a bean bag with big, green buttons for eyes. 

A late afternoon intense thunderstorm starts as I sit down to work on yesterday's blog. 30 minutes later I hear Usche lapping up water from nowhere near her water bowl. 

Soaking my produce in a magic potion
that will keep my poop solid :)

Now one of the things I love about this house is how open it is. My favorite is how the living room extends outside seamlessly. So seamlessly, I didn't realize there was a giant glass door I could have closed to keep the water from flooding into the kitchen from outside. 

Thank God Martha showed me where the towels lived. I clean up the water (a HUGE amount of water for 30 minute rain shower!) and I'm ready for a drink.

I head to my friend Brooke’s favorite place, La Parada, for dinner. Que Tal Lomo and Chile Pisco Sour for dinner. The dish was great, but the drink was GREAT. I'll definitely have that again. 

I get home and find a tiny frog has hopped into the living room and nestled against one of the towels I left out. I cup him in my hands and his smooth little body popcorns around until I put him deep in the wet grass. I love it here.

All are welcome here, Sir Frog.

Super Fav: "La pequeña flora," by Alejandro Rivero Leal