Posted by: birdmaddgirl | 23 April 2011

bougainvillea

south american trans-plant. been thinking about how things get to where they’re at. the unrecorded journeys. bougainvilleas are common in south florida (there’s an eponymous street in the grove), but i never thought to wonder if they were native or not. they blend into the natural environment without commentary, spilling their bright colors and sharp thorns over fences.

after a full nine days of yoga teacher training, i’ve been analyzing inherent vs trained strengths. i tag-team taught and adjusted three classes. i find that it’s difficult to feel comfortable speaking, that i want to stay silent. an interloper. and yet it’s all simon-says. i can see, though, how with practice i can juggle giving direction with providing focus with imparting anatomical info with encouraging students. a lot of practice, mind. a lot of climbing towards the sunlight.

i wonder what the indigenous words for bougainvillea are. i wonder if there are words in some other languages for trying and trying and trying without knowing what for.

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