Barcelona, I love you. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I wanted to be inside you forever. Not only did I have a great host who I met at the oldest bar in Barcelona, where communists guzzled down drinks, I was on my first photo assignment abroad covering Primavera Club for local Austin music blog, Pop Press INTL. I hadn't covered a concert since I was with Cornerstone and was excited and nervous, which has been my most common combo of feelings since living in Spain.
I laid topless on the beach, rode around the city in a bike that was two sizes too big for me having to peddle backwards to stop, which was fucking nerve racking, and kissed a man wearing my coral shade of lipstick as we got lost in our deep thoughts after he performed on stage. I will never forget reading at a cafe listening to "Jolene" and questioning if love out of compassion is real love and can infidelity and love coexist. I really resonated with Milan Kundra's novel, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. One of my favorite lines is "Love begins with a metaphor. Which is to say, love begins at the point when a woman enters her first word into our poetic memory".
I also recall how thrilled and full of energy I was when I saw two monk parakeets leaving the Joan Miro Foundation. There is a colony of these lime green parrots in Austin and I felt like they were little guardian angels that secretly follow me on my travels. Even though I was so far away from home, I didn't feel lonely. My answers to these questions change daily just like everything else on this Spanish rollercoaster. This ride is the only constant in my life. Nothing is guaranteed and everything changes. Fast. Flights cancel, fake friends flake, people lie, people you become close to are now gone, stores are closed, you get sick, you move into your flat but end up sleeping in a hostel, the best moment of your life can be on the worst day of your life.