JOHN GASCOIGNE

Writer & Musician

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Recent Travels

Frangipani

I see my grandfather's bones in frangipani tree branches: incautious in their instinct to share, they loll green tongues of leaf, litter the pavement with blossoms where they are trodden, turn banana-skin brown. I see them floating in saucers, stuck in lapels, a third...

Cameras

They were happiest on holiday. It might sound obvious – who isn't happiest in their free time? For them, though, holidays served a more complex need than leisure. On holiday, she came into focus, and he remembered her. Andrew turned the lens, looking at the screen. He...

El nopal y el prickly pear

En El laberinto de soledad, Octavio Paz recuerda una charla con una amiga mexicana quien vive en California. Para ella, en los Estados Unidos incluso los pájaros y plantas conocidos son extraños porque llevan nombres ingleses. «Aquí hasta los pájaros hablan en inglés....

Los Angeles Nocturne

This is my translation of Xavier Villaurrutia's poem "Nocturno de Los Ángeles" from his collection Nostalgia de la muerte. Villaurutia was an important literary figure in Mexico in the years after the Revolution, a member of the contemporáneos along with Salvador Novo...

Diario castellano – mayo y junio

1 de mayo Realmente no entendí la diversidad de este país hasta que salí de Ciudad de México para Yucatán, con su fuerte presencia maya. El Gran Museo del Mundo Maya en Mérida empieza con la vida contemporánea de los mayas y cuenta su historia al revés: insiste que no...

Postcard from San Cristobal de las Casas

There's something about mountains, and mountain towns. Natural places to stop, they attract all sorts of runaways and misfits, and people nursing broken hearts. The proximity to nature can be a powerful healer; the sense of lejanía can provide a sense of sanctuary. I...

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