One last, quick post before I begin packing my gear and preparing myself for re-entry. I leave tomorrow morning and after 21 hours and 23 minutes travel time I'll be home. So far away. Then it exists only in my memory and in my journal. But there is evidence I was here.
Two nights ago we put on our glad rags and had a Blues Concert here along with an art exhibit by the residents. Can Serrat was full of people, music, lovers of the arts.
Of course I positioned myself in the middle of the fun.
Taking my cue from Miles Davis I titled my works "Sketches of Spain".
We set up the exhibit in the grotto where the concert was held. Really a wonderful, atmospheric and magical place to have a show.
Chicago Blues. These guys were really good and I got to hear some of my favorite blues music.
Have I mentioned that I love to be around artists, writers, musicians and good cooks?
Then last night we had a quiet party with only a few friends.
Friends with kind hearts.
Polite, talented, young. It was a joy to be included. There was magic afoot.
Now it's time to cut the canvases off the stretcher bars and roll them up for the trip home. My emotions are mixed as you can surely imagine. It already seems like a dream that I made up. A dream of an imagined life. How can such beauty exist? Oh, life, you can be so hard and yet give us moments of such perfection.
Adios mis amigos. Véale detrás en el país. xo