Spain and Me

Well, I made it. After spending the night at the airport, flying into Barcelona and then a short bus ride to Olot, I´ve found my home. The family I am staying with are very friendly, and they do their best to make me feel welcome. I have my own bedroom, bathroom and they have a wonderful cook who makes the most delicious meals. Last weekend, they took me with them to their apartment in Cadaques (pronounced Cod-a-ques like queso). It is a little town on the bay where Salvidor Dali is actually from. It was beautiful! And there were several painters set up around the bay. Some painting, some selling and some just admiring the scenery. Last Saturday started the celebration of St. Juan´s day, celebrating the Saint Juan. Saturday evening, a parade of several young band members led children and 5 people dressed as characters of whom I have no idea into the town square where they played some traditional Catalon music while some people danced. The traditional Catalon dance isn´t that entertaining as they hold hands and step around in a circle. I was more entertained by the youngsters jumping up and down in front of the band. We joined in the parade and were behind the man holding a lantern. They had built a cardboard pile for a bonfire and the lantern held the sacred flame from a distant town. I take it back in the day it would have been delivered by horse, but now a car brought it. After the band stopped, the fireworks started and when the sun went down, they lit the bonfire. We watched it from the balcony of the apartment, and lets just say, I´ve been to parties with bigger bonfires. Nonetheless, the atmosphere was filled with fiesta. We had coca, which is not anything for your nose, but a wonderful pastery they have just for St. Juan´s day (which I learned is also the longest day and shortest night). The fireworks went on all night, but I was much too tired to stay up. Sunday, we went to the father´s parents house for the actual St. Juan´s day celebration. They had lots of family, champagne and coca. And they made me feel right at home. It was like an early 4th of July party. I am enjoying my time and learning about another culture. These next 3 months are going to be filled with lots of excitement.

Last of London

I've come. I've seen. I've conquered! It's my last few hours of London, and I think I'm ready to leave. The city is great, and its the history of the place that boggles my mind. Yesterday, I met up with an artist who took me to a 150 Anniversary art and design show. 150 years!! Thats practically how old America is and this college was celebrating its 150th birthday. Amazing. It was also really lovely to meet some fellow artists here. The art crowd is always welcoming and enjoyable, no matter what country you're in. And the art is wonderful, but not so far above the work I've seen and done back home. I must really know some talented artists. And I do. I also found my favorite spot, Kensington Gardents. Which is where I'm off to today... So farewell London, I bid you good-bye.

Livin it up in London

Well I made it. Somehow. Despite the several wrong turns and the overwhelming hustle of the tube, I found my hostel. It's very different than Ireland. Not quite as friendly, but I've managed to make some friends who are travelling from Canada. They couldn't believe I was from Texas because apparently I don't have that Texas twang. It's only my second day touring the city, and I feel like you could spend your whole life here and still not see everything. It's like New York City, just more proper. Even the bums are more polite. Yesterday I made it to central London from my hostel and saw the Tower of London and the Tower of London Bridge. Amazing. Absolutly beautiful. I spent most of my afternoon in the Tate Museum. For those who are die hard art fans, which I might be, its the place to go. I was most amazed that Marcel Duchamp's Fountain was there. I saw it, with my own eyes, in person. I literally had to stop and pinch myself. It was a reminder that art is real. There was so much to see that I felt exhausted after I left. I can't wait to get to Spain and paint. I have so much energy I need to get out.

After the museum, I met one of my new Canadian friends, Sarah, at the London Eye. Since I climbed the stairs of the Monument, I don't think I'll be going around the Eye. Seeing the city from hundreds of feet in the air is well worth the money though. It may have also contributed to my dream of sky diving last night... Sarah and I decided to catch a show last night, and for anyone interested Wicked is AWESOME! I always wondered what the story of the Wicked Witch's story was. It was clever, beautiful and most entertaining. One of the lines from the play struck a chord with me, "Truth is not fact or reason, its what we all agree upon. Often called history." Tis true.

On our way back to the hostel, we got a little reminder that we were in the city. As we were waiting for the last tube back to our part of the city, some cops came and told us to leave the station because "a serious crime had just been committed." No worries, we didn't see anything and made it home safe. The city can be a scary place, but I have no concern. Hakuna Matata is my life theory. And it's worked for me so far.

How to be a Princess

It's almost every little girl's dream to be a princess. I can actually remember the first time I thought I was destined to be one. It was after I read a book about a girl who was adopted and her real parents were a king and queen in a far away land. I was 8 and it the dream to be a princess didn't last long. Well, yesterday I met a prince. No, he was not my prince charming who swept me off my feet because we had some instant love connection. He is an African prince (and I won't include details because I don't want to seem exploit him). As I was walking through St. Stephen's Green Park in Dublin yesterday, he seemed friendly enough and invited me over for a chat. Usually, I would politely decline, but he seemed harmless. A few beers later and he's telling me about his crazy life as a prince. Now I would expect to meet members of a royal court dressed in expensive clothes in some fancy place. Apparently I was wrong. He was a nice man who cares about world issues, who wants to make a difference and who wouldn't stop proposing to me. (I think he had too much to drink) I no longer dream of being a princess. I prefer jeans and a t-shirt to a tiara any day, but I did learn a valuable lesson from him. A kind heart is better than a pretty face any day. So, ladies, when looking for your prince charming, remember to keep an open mind and don't always be so afraid of strangers. Trust your instinct and always wear that smile on your face.

Holy shit, I'm in Ireland

Well, its official. I'm in the great country of Ireland. Since I can't sleep on planes, it took me a good 24 hours to catch up on sleep and lose that loopy feeling in my stomach. Dublin is quite the city, and I intend on doing some prime exploring today. Yesterday, I took a train to Bray- a city on the southern coast line. Now, I've been to my fair share of beaches, but this one was took my breath away. There was a calm I've never felt before. I met some girls from Ohio who hiked with me up this gorgeous mountain. And the view... oh man, we were higher than most of the birds flew. My energy is still a little low, so I didn't do an all out pub crawl like my first night here, but the pubs are a guarenteed fun time. People seem so friendly here, and I don't know if that's just because I'm a girl or what, but I definately feel safe alone here. Enough with this computer, it's time for some exploring!

My Mark in NYC

New York is art friendly. There's no denying that. And it is definately appealing for street artist. I'm not calling myself a street artist, but I won't deny my fascination. I prove my love for New York with my kisses. If I didn't think I'd get some sort of disease, I'd actually kiss the city with my lips. Unfortunately, I can't afford that risk. Take it or leave it, this is me.

Welcome me.

So this is me. Almost 22. Just graduated from college, and blogging for the first time. My parents would be so proud. Or would they? Instead of applying for grad school or trying to find that 9-5 job, I've decided to run away to Europe for the summer. First stop, New York. It's not my first time here, so the streets weren't a complete surprise to me. I love the city. There's something strangely calming to be able to walk down a street and watch life happen. Its not like you have to come to the city to experience that, but its the city life I find especially intriguing. People everywhere, people you'll never see again. Tagging on practically every building gives me something to read on my stroll. At night, I get especially entertained by the drunks. Even NYC has frat-tastic boys wasted and trying to lull us ladies into bars (and when we refuse, we get called whackasses), but its the completely obliterated people that provide the most entertainment. A few nights ago, we watched a man stagger head on into traffic, go right up to a 4runner and lay his head on its hood. I wanted to help the man, but seriously, what would I have done? Shoved him in a cab and sent him to some unknown destination? Can't help them all. Too bad. I once read a quote saying that if you're bored in New York, its your own fault. All too true. This trip, I conquered the MOMA, the Museum of Natural Science, Coney Island (beware of the Cyclone, it can kick some ass), dinner in Little Italy, and a stroll in Central Park that led us to a castle and through Strawberry Fields. Not to mention the partying we've done- Saturday night we ended in on the roof of a friends apartment at 6 in the morning. Feels very appropriate for New York. I have one more day in NYC before I depart for Europe. Dublin more specifically. So, I'll be blogging about my experiences and thoughts on life as I adventure the world. For now, I'd like to end on a quote I read yesterday in the Museum of Natural Science: The world is not given to us by our parents, but instead is on loan to us from our children (Kenyan Proverb). Ponder that.