3 pieces of KFC, extra crispy,,,

I was in Madrid today.  It was my last day touring Europe and I was a bit blue.  I found myself walking through old  town and headed down a  steep hill.  Down, down, down, which matched my mood.  

An elderly, slightly disheveled woman began staring at me as I waited to cross the street. Her eyes were glacial blue and admittedly she made me a bit uncomfortable,  The wizened woman was not begging as some are prone to do when down and out.  She approached me, somewhat tentatively. She had a smallish puppy with her with a home maid leash made out of twine.  She asked if I might have a bit to eat in my backpack; something she could give her puppy to provide nourishment. 

I asked if her puppy liked chicken.  Her lined face lit up and she answered emphatically "Yes, of course she does!" What did she and her puppy have for dinner?  3 pieces of KFC, extra crispy.

One thing...

There is one thing we are obligated to do in life.  Live it!

I wouldn't change a thing...

God only knows my life has not been without its ups and downs, but truth be told I wouldn't change a thing.

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree...

Here’s the thing about traveling with someone, even someone you love.  You realize, quite soon into the trip, that there is truth to the saying, “Even fish gets old after 3 days.”  Because of this, Quentin and I decided to have a rule to live by when in Europe:  1 day together to sight see and 1 day apart to sight see.  Thus far, it has maintained our collective, familial sanity.

Today is our 1-day apart day.  I asked him last night what he planned to do in Valencia.  He said, “Sleep in and hang out.”  (Translation: sleep in, drink sangria, eat tapas and look at the hotties in a local bar). He asked what I planned to do.  I replied, “Take off early, go to Malvorosa Beach to look at the sea”. (Translation:  get up early, drink sangria, eat tapas and look at the hotties at a local beach).  The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

What matters...

The older I get I realize that the things I most
cherish are not things at all. It is about experiences,
not things.

Today it is sunny...

There are days when it is cloudy and cold.  Today is sunny and warm. For me, this is more than enough.

Genius is the next thing to madness...

I have heard the saying: “Genius is the next thing to madness.”  I’ve always inherently known this to be the case.  That person who, in some aspect of their life, is incredibly gifted, many times creatively.  This person, by all accounts, would not be considered “normal” by societal standards.  Despite this, or because of this, they have this gift, this propensity to create. It lies dormant in them at birth and suddenly, seemingly bursts forward as if driven the need to be released.

I began pondering this statement recently as I approached my anticipated visit to Arles, France. The world reknown impressionist painter, Vincent Van Gogh, lived here for many years.  I knew about Van Gogh the way the average individual knows of this man:  he was the crazy artist who, in a fit of rage, cut off his left ear.  The reality of this, however, is untrue.  Yes, Van Gogh did cut off his left ear in a fit of rage.  However, what many do not know is that this unique creative mind was plagued throughout his life by extreme highs and lows and periodically by psychotic episodes.  He was institutionalized for treatment throughout his life until sadly, he committed suicide at age 37. Experts now suspect that Van Gogh suffered from manic depression or bipolar disorder.  He lived in the 1800's. A time in which medications for this mental illnesses did not exist. He was therefore repeatedly sent to asylums to recover at times when his illness (and he) became unmanageable.

     It is not surprising that Van Gogh channeled these periods of madness into some of the most revered masterpieces in artistic history: Café Terrace at Night, Starry Night Over the Rhone.  These moments became conduits for an outpouring of creativity, many times prolifically (he produced over 300 paintings while residing in Arles).  

      I suppose that’s the thing about this saying: “Genius is the next thing to madness.”  There is always a trade-off.  For excessive highs, there are excessive lows.  For excessive creativity, there is a line, however grey, that teeters on the verge of madness. Perhaps this is the price a person must pay for a mind such as this.  It is just the price they must pay.

At this time, in this moment, life is perfect...

I am sitting on the craggy rocks where they meet the sea; where they have stood sentinel for thousands of years. These rocks will continue to do so long after I am gone.   I am in Vernazza, in Cinque Terre, Italy.  It is sunset in early October, a bit cool with the sea breeze, but certainly not cold.  In my hands I am holding a glass of wine which was made  locally.  I take a slow draw of this this wine as I watch the sun dip down over the horizon. The sky sets on fire with the colors of orange, pink, blue and purple as it reflects against the sea. The sun is setting over this achingly beautiful, sleepy village. It is putting the day to rest.  I realize that at this time, in this moment, life is perfect.