Ratty, we miss you, but you will always be in our hearts. We will never forget you.
Happy birthday Sali. You've been on my mind a lot lately.
And as I watched, I thought of you Sali. Even now, when I think of dancing or when I hop a train, I think of you Sali. When I think of people that were my heros/heroines, you come to my mind. Sali, you were a wonderful person I still miss you dearly.
Sali, your bones are made of beets,
your heart a rocking chair
that never stops swaying,
I want to sprinkle some sugar on your wounds,
sing you a song,
and then eat you with a side of corn
I met more of Sali's friends in Mexico City a couple weeks ago. They had traveled and camped with her at a Zapatista Encuentro, one of them was also a dancer.
In the week leading up to International Womens Day (March 8) I went to a movie showing for "the Right to be Happy" about the Zapatista Women's Encuentro in 2007. I kept thinking I saw Sali in the film, my eyes (/heart) could have been playing tricks on me, does anyone know if she went?
It felt really eerie walking streets in DF that the last time I was there I had walked with Sali.
Just last week I ran into John Gibler again--the reporter who wrote an article about Sali for Zmag, the most thoughtful piece I've read by anyone who didn't know her. He is really good to talk to.
A lot has prompted me to think about Sali lately. I want to talk about relationships and figuring out what we want in them with her. I want to talk about friendship again, and standing up with each other. I want to talk about punk rock.
Sali, you weren't perfect, but you were one-of-kind and a caring friend and I love and miss you tremendously.
Hola, he puesto los photos de La Dia De Muertos, Tucson, Noviember 09 debajo de 'Memorials'.
Photos from the All Souls Procession in Tucson, Nov 09 are posted under 'Memorials'.
We're still working on putting together a distro of things created by sali's friends and loved ones (see below for a better description). It's taking a bit longer than expected, which is both good and bad. It's good because it means that there's still time to create something if you haven't, or send something you already made. There are lots of great writings on this website and could be awesome in the zine that's being put together- so if there's something on here you'd like to see printed and sent all over please get in touch (see below). The new date is mid-october (let's say the 15). For real. Everything is going to be in both english and spanish, so to have time to translate please send stuff by october 15.
So, email to bicyclevillain [at] riseup [dot] net to submit internet writings or to get an address to mail other anythings.
The plan is to put together a zine of poems, writings, pictures, etc... that friends have made in response to sali's murder. As well as anything else that can be reproduced- posters, patches, yer own zine, stencils, anything you want. Then it's going to be mailed all over the US, and
Dear Sali, Happy Birthday sweet young woman. We love you and miss you, pretend this is everyone who loves and misses you screaming your name and our love from the tops of cliffs and mountains, where our voices might carry the farthest and find you wherever you are today.
We too died a death of sorts this year from all our grief, but I suppose we must still pretend to live.
Your Birthday today, but you will always be a young 20 to us, not 'the wide-eyed and young' Sali but the young, beautiful woman that I will always remember you as. It's lovely here, I can see you everywhere I go, you seem so tangible but so far.
I keep pretending that you're not gone but just continually riding some trains to somewhere.
This is our Scream from Cliffs for you,
Sali Sali Sali Sali Sali Sali We Love You, Sali We Miss You, We will Always Be Sad That you Have Gone, But
We Will Always remember your Stupidwonderful laugh, You were our amazing present for those almost- 21 years. Happy Birthday Sali.
salita. how am i gonna get through this? i havent written you because i know its just too painful to be reminded that youre not there to receive it, but right now i dont know how else to make these memories three dimensional and i need to be surrounded by you. i admit, i have these moments pretty regularly where i think to call you or write you because i forget that youre dead. i remember the dream i had of you, when i was like where the fuck have you been? and you laughed and said just living outside of town. i wonder if youd like the things people write and say about you. i sometimes cringe, as it appears the way i knew you and the way other people knew you have very little to do with each other. i dont remember young, wide eyed or reckless. i knew you "late" in your life, as it were. i had so much respect for you, immediately. i saw this person who was serious and scared, like i am. and i feel so lucky to know about your alone moments, the ways you felt hurt and hesitant. i think we both saw ourselves in each other, just as so many of our dear friends predicted. and i wanted to protect you, isnt that fucked? i just remember the gesture of you spreading the butter in your hands, talking about gettin through the fear. you writing to me about puffing your chest out to trick people into thinking you had it down. you and me shouldve found a disgusting little cave to hide in instead of running off in separate directions, pretending we were way more confident than we really were. our vulnerability was a secret that we shared between us, and i think sometimes we even fooled each other when we were realllly insecure. i saw so much worry in your face and i fucking love you for this. why the fuck not? i could tell that you had a lot of defenses up, and you had been wronged far too many times. and i remember the strongest desire to erase the pain you were living with, the feelings of rejection and confusion. i remember sitting in the kitchen together, quiet, lamplight, tea. is that fucked up? you were asking me, as if you didnt know that you had a right to be treated with dignity, honesty, respect. its been a year now since youve been gone, and i wish i had something more to offer you. i wish i could be like, here, borrow some of this excess strength i took on since we last saw each other... i wish i could say that ive stood up for myself enough for the two of us or that ive become brave in the places i used to just pretend were brave. but im not there yet. im admitting this to you, in secret. because we both know that its not safe to let other people know that we falter. salitamija. i cant forget the images of you fighting in slow motion. i remember feeling lucky to be your self defense partner, because you were attractive and intimidating and it was a way for two frontin tough-asses to create intimacy between themselves. but perhaps this wasnt on your mind at all, perhaps you were just concentrating on your form. either way, i remember the way your body moved to defend itself and it haunts me. i have so many memories of being physically close to you, as if i always knew where we were in relation to one another even though i had no idea how much i was paying attention to it at the time. we got to be friends in a strange context. cleaning wounds and serving soup and whispering translations back and forth. sleeping in the cruz roja together because we were the only girls in the camp. im repeating all of these memories because they really are nourishing me. sometimes i forget to remember the good things, the tender moments, and focus too much on my sadness and anger that youre gone. i wish i would think more frequently about the sound of your voice pronouncing "tranquilo" and "acento", and the look youd get on your face when youd be pretending to listen to someone, really impatiently. for many reasons, i saw this face a lot. and also this face of yours that was so revealing of sadness but obviously not wanting to show it. sali, i want you to be proud of me. i want to be making the decisions that i would have wanted you to make. does this make sense? we are cabronas for a reason, shit. come visit me more often, hm? it sucks without you.