I was late in loving you, beauty so ancient and so new, I was late in loving you. You were inside me and I was outside myself, and I was looking for you out there and went rushing headlong among all the beautiful things you had made, me in my self-made ugliness. You were there for me and I was not with you. All sorts of things distracted me from you, things that wouldn’t have had any meaning without you giving it to them. So you called out to me and shouted and broke through my deafness! You flashed, you gleamed, you chased away my blindness! Your odor flooded me and I took a deep breath and sucked you in! I took a taste, and I hungered and thirsted the more! And then you touched me, and I was all on fire for your peace.
—Saint Augustine, Confessions 397-398 A.D.
sacadas
Steps interrupted.
Constant traveler. Formerly incarnated as a London financial journalist, an Argentine tango dancer, a wide-eyed 21-year-old in Manhattan, and a young woman seeking her roots out in Vietnam.
