What did I know about Tacumbú? All that I knew were the typical frivolities inherent to the conceptual structure of the privileged. The task of deconstruction never ends.

"I gave you science and wisdom, and what have you made of it? All work and no joy"

"Are you here because of the medicine?”

"You can't even imagine all that you will learn."

Whether you never leave your hometown or you are a digital nomad, the fast pace of modern relationships is likely to confront us with the feeling of loneliness.

"Expect a Miracle" was stamped in the welcome package I received upon my arrival at the Findhorn Foundation, an intentional community in the Scottish Highlands. I snubbed it as a slogan.

For an entire month, an erotic poet, a feminist photographer, a Trotskyist advocate and a sensitive soccer player read and wrote, in rapture, at sessions that started at the time of shifting from *tereré* to beer, and that lasted until they ran out of cigarettes.

Tattooing for fashion, for love or revenge. For a promise. Drunk tattoos. Tattooing for pain, for pleasure. Incapable of stopping tattooing. Tattoos that are thousands of years old.