November 03, 2013

Barcelona- City Ghosts

I love city ghosts. 

Faintly feathering about their shimmering way, slipping through doorways, turning street corners, shuddering in reflections or sometimes so brash as to blink back at you atop the still presence of whatever's in your glass- water, vermouth or wine- warped by a tilt and shattered by a sip, these fleeting, fluttering glimpses of the past.
As I was sitting writing this at a small cafe in Barcelona, they danced around me in the daylight and I was not frightened but dazed and wistful at the sight of such wisps and such whirls- carried away by their smoky lure, following them on the ends of my lashes. 

Ghosts keep me company on my lonesome jaunts, from slipping, shadowy sights on corners or streets huffing with hectic puffs; indistinguishable layers of memories, or were they once dreams?

There he goes- speeding past on his bicycle in a brilliant blur, a gleeful determination on his face or shuffling awkwardly, pulling his tired body along for another long day, leaving her behind.

There I am, even myself, wandering aimlessly, looking for something but not sure quite what- my present self whispers a quiet hello but she never hears it. Not once.

And there we all are. My friends and I, on a warm evening, the light of the oak-scented bodega illuminating our transparent, smiling faces with a space to my side, that's always empty when it shouldn't be.
These demi-present spirits are my faded stories in vision.

I read them one more time, smile softly and close the book firmly. 

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October 25, 2013

Barcelona- A Dark Love Story

Barcelona- A Dark Love Story
I hadn't planned to see you but knew that at some point, I would be drawn in your direction by an irresistible lull; the force of habit...
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October 18, 2013

Barcelona - This City Was Never Ours

Barcelona - This City Was Never Ours
When travelling, you can navigate by map and itinerary or choose to just walk and see and it is often that I take the latter, winding mysel...
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September 17, 2013

The Garden of England

The Garden of England
When you wholeheartedly love a place, you can slip back into it as if you had never spent a moment away. It has the power to almost erase y...
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September 01, 2013

The Jewels of Rosie Criddle

The Jewels of Rosie Criddle
I’m the sentimental one in my family, clinging to nostalgia like a forgotten scent dancing anew on the nostrils; a sashaying, shim...
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August 18, 2013

What the Blackbird Said

What the Blackbird Said
I remember a day. It was April, where I was dreaming on my bed, looking out to a sky that was neither cold nor warm, but soft-washed pi...
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July 31, 2013

My 27th Year- The Heartbeat

My 27th Year- The Heartbeat
Time was faithfully trotting on. Time is always the same, ticking by its own tock and yet how is it that it can sometimes seem so painfully...
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July 21, 2013

My 27th Year- The Sun and the Moon

My 27th Year- The Sun and the Moon
And so walk I did, right from autumn into winter- a kaleidoscope of colours flickering their final fancy before crumb...
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July 15, 2013

My 27th Year- We Walk

My 27th Year- We Walk
And so there I was again- back to square one after a long learning interval and I wasn't quite sure where to start. I only knew that I ...
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July 04, 2013

My 27th Year- Leaving Barcelona

My 27th Year- Leaving Barcelona
My first month at 27 was perhaps the most uncomfortable of all and also the final of my two years in Barcelona. I see it now as a fork in t...
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June 23, 2013

Under Our See

Under Our See
I remember the day I discovered the lull of the tide. We were standing there, my father and I, in the late afternoon at the water's e...
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