Someone told me yesterday that for the past three years Spain has received very little rain and that Barcelona had begun negotiations with towns to the north about ciphering more water into the city district. I haven’t made any efforts to validate the weight of this comment (from my young German, soon-to-be-ex, room-mate) and I don’t think it’s on many people’s minds at the moment – because it’s raining! We’ve had several rainy days since I’ve been here and they’ve all been rather pleasant – in the ways that rain is pleasant, of course! However today (day 2) is downright cold and wet. All of the café’s and metro-trains are crowded with escapees from the sharp wind and consistent drizzle. In fact I myself am sitting in a café right now. I had to get off of the metro because it was SO packed full of people it was creeping me out. And anyway, I’m meeting up with Debbie and Mario to practice Spanish in an hour so this works out well – I can get some much-needed writing done.

The past week was the final stage of my first ‘term’ (not that it is really a term like were used to thinking about school terms, it’s more like a ‘theme’) at school. It was three days of student presentations – the ‘showing’ of work(s) thus far….relating to our first topic of the year, Identity. I was pleasantly surprised by everyone. I thought that I already knew what some people were up to because all of the studio spaces are open and you can see people’s work – but when they presented their finished art it was as if I had never seen it before. There is something really potent about the WAY something is presented – it changes the piece of work COMPLETELY. I think I’ve been lazy (and shy) in this area in the past – in fact I think that I generally invalidate my work and feel it’s unworthy of presentation or of inviting viewers. I dunno, something like that. Anyway, the presentations were wonderful. Not only was it inspiring to see that variety of mediums everyone chose but also the discussions that surrounded their intentions and their process- I somehow feel closer to everyone…I feel less ‘alone’ in the world of creativity and experimentation and art. Hhmmm, maybe I can be more to the point here: I’ve inhibited myself from doing a lot of things (creatively) because I was afraid to experiment, afraid to admit that I had no idea what the hell I was doing, that I just had a vision and I wanted to make it real, that I would make a bunch of mistakes in the process of discovery and that that would need to be okay – but it wasn’t. I’ve caged myself with unrealistic restrictions and felt utterly alone – duh! Now after being around other people who are diving into the creative/artistic process I ‘get’ that experimentation, trial and error, exploration, research and a ‘just-go-for-it’ attitude are paramount in producing works of art that resemble your vision, or at least your intention! I feel like the walls of my cage are melting – I expect I’ll be seeing things through a fresh lens.
This week we’ve begun our new theme, minimalism. Though it’s ‘roots’ lie in rather elitist rebellion in efforts to expand the boundaries of abstract expressionism – I will not be tapping into that mind-frame for my work. Instead I am looking at the project as ‘minimizing’….and I will be toning down my otherwise elaborate and embellished habits of ‘decorating’ everything I do.

I'm still twisting my head over the Spanish language. It feels like I take several steps forward and then spend 2 weeks running backwards. It's all a big jumble except for random vocabulary words like: CANDLE, TRY, SLOW, FUN, SWEAT, RELAX and WIFI. I spent five hours in a cafe last night with Debbie (from school) and Mario, a Columbian transplant. We played word games and talked and just generally enjoyed the slow-evolution of reaching understandings. It interesting to learn that Spanish has so many dialects - and I don't mean accents. The language is quite different from country to country and in Spain, region to region. For instance in Columbia they don't really pronounce their S's. So the very common saying: es lo mismo (it's the same) is said: E lo mimo - by my friend Mario. Keep in mind he also speaks very quickly and rolls all of the words together so it really sounds more like "elo mio" which I hear as "It's mine". It certainly makes conversations rather hilarious....in addition to frustrating :)

Word up to all of you shopping addicts and travel lovers - ALL of Barcelona goes on sale in January. Every store literally puts everything they have on the shelf and marks it down by up to 75%. It's all the rage - evryone's taking about it. So save up and come visit me in January!!

con besos-

The Mountains

The blinds on the windows in Barcelona are a bit like garage doors. They roll up and down – pulled by a rope on the interior side of the house. They can be let down to “close/cover” the window yet still allow air to flow through small holes. Or you can close it further – folding closed even the slits of small holes. At night I close mine almost completely, even the small holes for they also let in the street light that I would rather have shut out. I leave the top ten rows of holes open for air and morning light – and I can tell when it is 7:30AM because the orange glow of the street light disappears and the soft blue of dawn seeps in through the slits of the blinds. Yesterday morning started just this way, my newly awake eyes watching the light change – and knowing then that it was time to get up. I would be going to the forest!
I had recently heard of a nature preserve area behind the mountain range that nestles the city into it’s crescent moon shape – complete with hiking trails, rivers and small villages. My friends, Mara, Eric and Michael, would be joining me for a days’ trek into the wilderness – as would a small Daschund named Sally.
The underground metro from my house to Placa Catalunya takes about 20 minutes and from there you can catch the FGC trains (much like the metro really) to the further reaches of the city. 10-15 minutes on the train brings you to Baixador de Vallvidrera – the gateway to Parc de Collserola. We procured a small walking map from the information center which sits just up the hill from an old farm house – now made into a museum to show the life and work of a Catalonian poet who laid the foundation for contemporary Catalan literature. If only I could remember his name………
We were soon off – on the purple trail heading towards we-don’t-care-where-we’re-just-so-happy-to-be-here. Our first vista was a view of the interior crevasses between several mountain folds. Within this beautiful tree-filled area are a couple of very-Spanish looking villas….straight out of a story-book. For the first time since my arrival here I felt like I was really in the heart of Spain (and I’m not!)…..everything suddenly felt very SPANISH…..it’s breath-taking. Our four hour walk took us up and down hillsides, through oak thickets, over beautiful vistas and through small villages of earth-colored homes. We passed mountain bikers, vivacious elderly walkers, children in bare feet and happy smiles, friendly dogs and butterflies. Eventually we found our way to Tibidabo, a cathedral and (get this) “Theme Park” (because we all want to pray and play!!) that sits on the highest hill of the Collserola Mountains. Although Tibidabo boasts a very odd atmosphere it also provides one of the most incredible views of Barcelona…..all the way to the ocean and beyond…..to the edge of the world! Eric had been carrying a green melon in his bag and chose this perfect moment to announce that fact – and share it’s delicious meat with us.
Tibidabo is easily accessible by road – which means that we were now closer to civilization than we were ready for so we decided to try to find a way down the hill that was off the road. Low and behold a small foot trail revealed itself – it was a maintenance path for the electric lines – and the perfect trail for four adventurous souls who wanted a slow reintroduction back to the city. About an hour later, and some minor trail blazing on our parts, we entered the back end of Horta…..the northern most barrio of Barcelona. The first turn down the small street led us to a park – where there grew a persimmon tree. Eric saw this fruit and quickly turned into a monkey. Within a second he was up in the branches and tossing ripe orange fruit into our hands below. It was like a dream. Michael soon joined Eric in the branches and Mara and I had this moment of awareness: “we just hiked through the most beautiful woods in Spain, trekked through the tundra with total trust, landed in the coolest city and now have two men tossing fresh organic fruit into our hands, straight from the tree.” Needless to say - it was a beautiful day.