Went to the studio properly for the first time today to unpack and rather randomly I drew a banana.
Views from my studio
View from kitchen and kitchen
view from the loo
er….drumroll…..heres my studio!!!!!
Trekked across town last night so Graham could pay cash to the language school as they were playing silly buggers trying to use his card, i.e couldn’t get it to work. Now beginning to fully understand how posh El Borne is, and so quite. Its not busy in town as its holy week but its so lovely round us, and yes I am even starting to appreciate the dark streets. I just haven’t been looking up much, so last night I did. Also walked through a trendy bit of el raval as well which looks realy nice, bought freshly ground coffee from a proper coffee (and tea shop with huge glass jars of loads of different teas) with more sign language, bought more bread and then the sign language failed in the pharmacist with cotton wool, but we got there in the end. Back for home made tapas and an episode of ‘The Killing’….jolly stuff!
Tuesday is mine. I feel severed. Like 3/4 of me has been hacked off and the remainder rises like an umbrellared seed, it wafts about wonderfully with no apparent direction. Yes I am still a couple of stone overweight but I feel light. Not confused, well maybe a little but so free it makes me want to cry.
For someone who craves the light, migrates to it lizard like, my first impressions of the streets around where we live are not one of the excited big camera wearing first time traveller to Barcelona, I have no desire to spend hours wandering through these pathways discovering.
The tapestry of wooden windows, railings, washing, shutters, and balustrades that I can see from our inner courtyard is beautiful because the light has space to move about here. It plays it bounces.
The surrounding streets away from the park side and towards Gotic are like being on a cargo ship, maybe not on the ship but waiting by the dock, as we nearly are. Rows and rows of containers all pilled up high make dark corridors. But unlike the docks the containers are not bolted up, sometimes their personal contents spill out onto the street as billowing sheets. Huge plants tumble out from tiny ledges of balconies, touching the other side, stealing the white as it falls.
Glimpses of light appear at the end of rows where it has squeezed past. Alone on your corridor you see ‘The Shinning’ like, people flit past the ends, their voices carry towards you for a moment and then gone.
The streets are not at all scary, just dark. To me light is what reveals beauty, so at present I cant see the beauty, I tend to head to the sea and the open spaces.
But I know you need shading to reveal form. Maybe as Barcelona heats up and I go to the studio, which is scorched in full light, I will understand these dark piled high spaces and will be thankful.