It's October, and high time that I started posting again
Walking home from school today, feeling every inch of my 5'2" frame ache with cold and sickness, I contemplated grey skies and Spanish words.
Headache. Dolor de cabeza
Stomach ache. Dolor del estomago
¿Comó te sientes? How are you feeling?
Estoy enferma hoy. I'm sick today.
Fighting to force my typically clear sense of sight past the squeeze of pressure in my sinuses and the catch in my breath made me long fiercely for the strangely tangible weightlessness of the summer heat in Spain. The burgeoning rain clouds overhead made me wish for the silvery flash of sunlight on a magpie's blue-black wings. It's October, and I miss the fleeting promise of August -- summer's last kiss. This year's vacation made that kiss even more bittersweet than it usually is.
Forgoing the typical visit to my family in Virginia, this year, I went to Spain.
Nothing of my life saturated in the sounds and colors New York prepared me for the sights and sounds of Spain. That place -- with its impossibly, perpetually blue sky, its colors (flaxen gold, olive green, dusk lavender, sandstone yellow, sanguine and cadmium red), the many ways in which its doors and very stones are steeped in history, hopes and blood -- that place enthralled me. Something in Spain loosed a frantic passion for everything in me. The place simply inspires passion -- even the colors of its flag (red, gold) set my blood apace.
Walking home in the midst of cold weather, the promise of freezing rain and the aches of a cold simply doesn't compare.
Quiero más que esto. I want more than this. Quiero la esperanza en los cielos de verano, los colores de España, sus sonidas y sus ritmos y sus vientos brillante. Quiero más que esto.
I want the hope in summer skies, the colors of Spain, its sounds and rhythms and its bright winds. I want more than this.
It's October again, and as Autumn creeps in like a stalking, slinky cat, a part of me is still that blue-black magpie, harassing tourists in Spain and flying in accordance to silver sunlight on my graceful wings.
Headache. Dolor de cabeza
Stomach ache. Dolor del estomago
¿Comó te sientes? How are you feeling?
Estoy enferma hoy. I'm sick today.
Fighting to force my typically clear sense of sight past the squeeze of pressure in my sinuses and the catch in my breath made me long fiercely for the strangely tangible weightlessness of the summer heat in Spain. The burgeoning rain clouds overhead made me wish for the silvery flash of sunlight on a magpie's blue-black wings. It's October, and I miss the fleeting promise of August -- summer's last kiss. This year's vacation made that kiss even more bittersweet than it usually is.
Forgoing the typical visit to my family in Virginia, this year, I went to Spain.
Nothing of my life saturated in the sounds and colors New York prepared me for the sights and sounds of Spain. That place -- with its impossibly, perpetually blue sky, its colors (flaxen gold, olive green, dusk lavender, sandstone yellow, sanguine and cadmium red), the many ways in which its doors and very stones are steeped in history, hopes and blood -- that place enthralled me. Something in Spain loosed a frantic passion for everything in me. The place simply inspires passion -- even the colors of its flag (red, gold) set my blood apace.
Walking home in the midst of cold weather, the promise of freezing rain and the aches of a cold simply doesn't compare.
Quiero más que esto. I want more than this. Quiero la esperanza en los cielos de verano, los colores de España, sus sonidas y sus ritmos y sus vientos brillante. Quiero más que esto.
I want the hope in summer skies, the colors of Spain, its sounds and rhythms and its bright winds. I want more than this.
It's October again, and as Autumn creeps in like a stalking, slinky cat, a part of me is still that blue-black magpie, harassing tourists in Spain and flying in accordance to silver sunlight on my graceful wings.