In this blog post, Ida shares a play she wrote after the passing of one of her favorite writers, Eduardo Galeano occurred this Monday. This play  is NOT one of the six new wonderful, exciting, heartfelt, kick-ass plays we added  to the menu. You can see those plays premier when you come see Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind this weekend.

Unofficial Obituary for Eduardo Galeano
all of us are sprinkled throughout the house, looking at our bellybuttons.

1: “I thank journalism for keeping me from contemplating the labyrinths of my own bellybutton.”

2:  said the uruguayan writer.

3: and even though he authored more books than articles.

4:  the stories

2: which my father read to us  at every family gathering I can remember

6: were so deeply entangled with the truths of others,

7: a network of complicated histories catalogued with care.

8: the old man, told their stories so well,

2: that I don’t think he even had an umbilical cord to begin with.

Note from this blog’s author: I asked my dad his favorite of Galeano’s stories. He said it’s a story called “The Function of Art” that comes from Galeano’s book “The Book of Embraces”.  Here is an excerpt from that story:

“On his deathbed, a man of the vineyards spoke into Marcela’s ear. Before dying, he revealed his secret:
The grape,” he whispered, ‘is made of wine.’
Marcela Pérez-Silva told me this, and I thought: If the grape is made of wine, then perhaps we are the words that tell who we are.”

 -Galeano, 1992.

To read some  more of  Galeano’s work,  you can visit this website:

I hope you like it.  Hope to see you at the show.

You can do this, too.

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