Barcelona Honeymoon

The trip was long. Separated seating charts. Broken entertainment system. Only our imaginations and elusive 10 min naps.  22 hours. 3 flights. Lay over in Heathrow... 5 hours in a luxury consumerist prison. My eyes burning in protest. Lots of turbulence.

Despite the travel trials and tribulations we made it here to Barcelona in one peice. Our flat is everything the pictures boasted. A 2 bedroom penthouse apartment along the El Born districts side streets. Our host has vacated for the week on a motorcycle trip across France. His french roommate comes and goes and is as illusive as are the locals. Their conversations brief, light and fragile as if any moment it were to fall apart into pieces.

We sleep a lot. The hours melt away in the hot muggy evening as we listen to the echoing chatter from the paseo...of dogs barking, streets washed clean, scooters, glass bottles rolling along the stone curbs, the young people laughing and singing unfamiliar tunes that pour out of the bars and overflowing into the night sky.

We take breaks from the apartment and walk down the allies they call streets looking for nowhere to go in particular. Trying to avoid the traps set for tourists and stumbling upon bits of ancient history. Our favourite haunt is the church of Santa Maria del Mar. Its impressive construction swallowed by the apartments that surround it. Its cool inside and relatively accessible with looming columns supporting a canopy of stone. The cavernous temple creates a chamber of sound that can move the most hardened cynics.

The Jealous Designer

I look at a many things and keep an insatiable design appetite for well considered works. Motion graphics, print, branding, typography, you name it.

Jealousy.  It begins in the reservoir of my soul and wells up till its in the back of my throat like taunting nausea. Not for love nor for the conventional materialistic kind.... but pure envy. Envy that wells up from the least likly of sources. I have had this uncontrollable urge to consume visual content and especially feed my addiction for design. The only problem is that this over exposure of visual nourishment results in a form of dissatisfaction in my own work. Perhaps this is what keeps me going and motivated to grow. But I feel like its a race to nowhere and that these hopeless emotions will devour me. Thats when I have to shut it off. Recharge. Because the fear of failure is always on my back and If  I let it...it will swallow me whole.

Society of the Spiritually Concious

 

Photo Credit: Yoshi-Sodeoka

The Society of the Spiritually Conscious (SSC):

- abstracted mandalas with western symbols
- bloated devotees
- handmade typography with art nouveau influences
- outdoor ceremonial circle with endless silk mat for self discovery which pours out into the waters of the ocean.
- giant sphere osculating with great speed creating a vortex in the center
- charismatic leader who has you sacrifice your most prized possession to the center of the universe.
- no fears, no hunger. i think we've been drugged.

 photo credit: Narima

Im covered with white salt dust from spending the day farming salt on a tractor. My face is covered with a fine layer of white powder. My hair is undone and wild. My right eye glazed over from damage from the glaring sun on the white surface.

Photo Credit: Alexandra Rus