This kind of beautiful…

Vivid visions of just me. 

Wrapping my arms around myself and encountering my own brilliance without the thoughts of your companionship trickling through. 

Your otherness typically feels so warm and compliments me so well, it’s almost as you follow the circuits of my mind. 

I can call and stay on the line…I don’t speak and you know exactly what to say. 

Although, you certainly don’t complete me, I am my own person, this I am certain. 

My own desires and thoughts flow through me a tad differently. It’s like I am a river and we connect when I enter your basin. 

Deep within, I know I don’t need you, but I want you to accompany me throughout some of my life. For now, I want you to be a part of my routine—to say the least. 

I want to be your sunshine, but it is if you are on a blinding, uneasy ride. This moment in time, you are lost and unsettled, I must let you climb. 

This is necessary, but who wants to be alone? I don’t think this world was made for us to always be in solitude.

Sometimes we need to meet and connect like the river and the sea–let’s be an estuary. 

Rich and free, I hope to meet you again and feel your warmth like my favorite tea. 

Or my favorite food, melting within my dark soul, enlightening my world. 

For now I’ll wait and worry less about others, meaning you. 

I’ll try to be this kind of beautiful…


Dear Readers


(Photo Above) If you all could see my small studio apartment, this is basically what it looks like .

Some of you lovely people have asked me why haven’t I blogged about my last weeks in Spain!? Here’s an update on my beautiful, busy life.

Well, I am back in the US and have been flooded with work. I am in the process of getting certified as a NYS Teacher so that I can teach in a dual language NYC public school classroom. I am also in the process of sending out my cover letter and resume!

I am working full time as a 5th grade permanent substitute teacher, the school year ends June 28th.

I visited my amazing mother and family in Atlanta, GA to support my two younger siblings who graduated High School this year!!

I myself will have my commencement, June 2nd, 2016 to celebrate earning a B.A. in Elementary Education with a Bilingual Extension. 😀 HIP HIP HOORAY!! 

Lastly, I teach an enrichment class on the weekend, to middle school scholars of color, to enhance their readiness for the verbal part of SHSAT.

I have been SWAMPED since my return mid April, but I promise to publish my last weeks in Spain and my last two trips to 5 cities in Morocco and the beautiful Sevilla, Spain by the end of June/ first week of July (I wrote little notes in my journal to better reflect on those last weeks rather than just blog it)!

I have been so overwhelmed, but grateful for my opportunities! To all my other bloggers working hard, don’t stop, we got this!!

La mariposa negra – The Black Butterfly

Dear Parents, educators, and anyone who loves kids,

As some of you may know I am an Au Pair in Madrid, Spain. I tutor a 4 and 7 year old in English and bring them to and from their semi private/public school (gov’t helps pay tuition until students are 13 years old), and take Spanish grammar classes while they are in school all day (literally they are there from 9-5 M-Th, 9-4 Fri). Now, remember as you read this is not in NY, USA.


The 4 year old has fell in love with this book titled, The Artist Who Painted A Blue Horse, by Eric Carle.

Today, my host dad picked up his boys and gave me the afternoon free. The teacher shared with him that the 4 year old was really sleepy today and did not do a good job when doing his classwork. CAN YOU BELIEVE SHE SAID THIS BECAUSE HE PAINTED A BUTTERFLY BLACK!!!!!????? She should be happy I did not pick him up lol. I was like that is awesome a black butterfly, what I love it! During dinner I learned of this and couldn’t resist laughing. The parents looked at me and I explained I think I know why he painted a black butterfly and I doubt it was because he was sleepy. It was because he was INSPIRED by a book we have been reading. 

So I explained to the mother the book, we read it together and the history behind it, that is written at the end of the book. She learned that this book was inspired by the artist Franz Marc, the German artist who painted a blue horse in 1911. When Eric Carle was a young boy (he was born in the USA,) he spent some of his boyhood in the Nazi regime, where modern, expressionistic art OR abstract art was forbidden and viewed as degenerate! One of his art teachers secretly shared Marc’s work, even though she was only allowed to show realistic art. I love how this teacher took the courage to show Eric Carle this!


THANKFULLY, my host mom loved the book! I also told her about the book, The Day the Crayons Quit, with a similar message as this book, she wants to read it. I am so glad she was very happy with the book I shared with her son. She said, “I am so sorry that this teacher does not understand art.” She later spoke with her son stating that he is a wonderful artist and they will talk to his teacher. She even thinks I should bring the book to share with his teacher!

In all, I am so grateful that she was able to appreciate the beauty of art!! I’ve worked in environments where I literally heard pre school teachers tell the 4 year old students that scribble scrabble is not art, I always told the students not to worry because their work is abstract and the most wonderful piece of work I have ever seen them draw.

Do not deprive your children of art, without art our world would be expressionless! They have the right to see the beauty of the world anyway they choose. Creativity in its’ raw form can be seen as rare because people often kill the spark of art at a young age. Let’s vow to allow our children’s creativity explode in a world full of lively colors, realistic or unrealistic because that is freedom!


I hope I can get a picture of this black butterfly to also post!!

I am a person, another memory found.

As you may have read in my previous blog, I have been organizing my closet. Here I will post a poem that I wrote for a journal entry assignment in one of my education courses on the 24th of October in 2013.

I am the person who likes to try new things, to talk, to dance, to eat. 

I am the person who can make a positive from a negative

I am the person who likes to be social, sleep, swim, tan, live freely, fly on airplanes, travel. 

I am the person who cannot sing, but loves music, R&B, HipHop, Bachata, Merengue Tipico, Reggae, Pop, Alternative Rock, Dubstep

I am the person who sometimes wishes things were different, who dreams for change who wishes we did not have to age, who is writing on this page. 

I am the person who hears the cries for help, whose heart melts when I feel pain, who wants to gain a fulfilling life. 

I am the person who needs more sleep because ‘she works, she comes from little financially, but gives big, gives her all!’

I am person who gets tired, who gets energy, and dreams.

I am a person. 

Bloggers, finding this written word, this history of my own, has been so inspiring. Please never stop journaling, it’s like when you find an old letter from your friend who wrote you in military boot camp, or sleep away camp or when traveling overseas. Except, it’s like a letter to yourself!! As we get older, many memories escape us, keep them forever. That’s a story you’ll always be able to tell! 


Finding Memories

Yesterday, I began a “Winter” cleaning of my closet before I head to Madrid, Spain for 3 months. When I first moved in with my boyfriend, his apartment was a bare, bachelor’s pad. I flooded it with so many of my belongings and it’s only right for me to give him some more space since I will be abroad for 3 months. Not only that, I really need to get rid of so many clothes, and materials that make our small home, cluttered!!

I put on some bachata, and began to organize! As I was emptying a hamper that was filled with notebooks and textbooks from my first two years of college, I found journal entries, essays and assignments that I am so glad I kept! (Don’t worry, I got rid of a lot of it, so the goal of cleaning was accomplished lol)

Memories really do last on paper, I found a journal entry assignment from one of my education or writing courses dated, 17 October 2013.FullSizeRender-6 The assignment was to write about a memory for 15 minutes. We had to describe it and could not stop writing before the 15 minutes was up. It reads,

“I remember when I first moved to Brooklyn during the end of Summer 2010. Being born in Brooklyn, but growing up in Suffolk County, Long Island and then moving to Atlanta from the ages of 14-17 was such a huge transition. In reality, I was a suburbs girl. I lived in the suburbs from before I was a year old and until my last few months before turning 18. I bought the ticket in haste and decided to attend St. Johns University. However, I ended up not being able to go because the tuition was too expensive and it wasn’t worth it to me. 

Backtrack to when I was packing to move to NYC, I bought three large suit case. I remember staring at my room. ‘What should I bring?’ I thought. I remember one of the first things I packed was my high school diploma, I recall being so anxious to graduate high school. At the time, I was so happy to move forward unaware of what my future would look like. 

I sorted through piles and piles of clothes and miscellaneous items such as books, jewlrey, old homework assignments, shoes, DVDs. Packing was not fun, I also remember being frustrated because since I was flying each ‘maleta’ (suitcase) can only weigh 50 lb. It was so annoying! Eventually, I packed everything. I hugged my siblings tight and headed to the airport with my mom and best friend Crystal. 

I remember the drive to the Atlanta Hartsfield Jackson International Airport. It was a short drive, but it seemed like a long, slow drive. We pulled into the Delta terminal, I kissed my best friend’s cheek, hugged my Mom tight and stood with my luggage to check in. As my best friend and Mom drove off, I waved watching the wheels roll away from me.

It was a sunny, partially cloudy day. I didn’t feel sad, I was excited to leave Atlanta, start a life in New York. I did not know what to expect, I was not a country girl, but I certainly was not accustomed to the life in the city. I barely knew how to use public transportation 3 years ago!”

Well, now I have lived in NY for a bit over 5 years, my new cherished degree is my Bachelor’s and I can definitely say I am an expert in public transportation, ha! Thanks to google maps, I conquered the transit system. I have traveled to so many parts of Brooklyn and the city, that people who live here their entire life never even traveled. Quite odd, but it is the reality of some.

In all, I was just really happy that I recorded this memory, because I do not think I could retell this memory the same way, had I not had it written down. I thank that professor, and I thank myself for keeping my notebooks. I knew I would go through them one day and I finally began.

Keep your memories, keep a journal, written word is comforting, enchanting and rare in our modern world. It’s amazing how writing your thoughts will transform your future.