boys and girls, I have the strongest urge to stay here:
Drinking 40ś under monuments, smoking joints topless on beaches, biking on the boardwalk.
Today I leaned "contact dancing" an improvisational postmodern dance that involves keeping physical contact with another person. Its about movement, touch, body weight... Itś hypnotizing. Liberating.
We are so contrained in western society, taught that touch is inherently sexual. I am often critiqued for being too touchy-feely. Contact dancing is my new favorite thing.
I am eating like a queen here. organic vegetarian delicious.
Fresh cooked chicken and cactus fruit juice.
I am traveling with ada- a queer girl from philly I met on couchsurfing. We have been making art all over the city. Pictures to come.
Barcelona has the second highest pickpocketing rate in the world. Last night, biking down the main strip:
- one boy beat up a girl who tried to steal from him
- two girl brawled and screamed fuck yous
- tranny prostitues blew kisses at me
- drunken tourists went in ambulances
- someone tried to steal my bag
- 15 boys ran after him in my defense
This was all at 3:30 am.
This city is wild.
L O V E.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
barthelona
is alive and graffitied and beachy and warm and welcoming.
I am drunk off beer from an art gallery and I just arrived this morning. I walked to the beach. I ate veggie pallela. I took pictures.
I met a girl named gala from new school and discussed our futures. I ate gelato. I gushed about this city.
Two nights ago I saw radiohead and sigur ros. I couch surfed with a colombian/french girl. I exploded my brain.
Every time I hear your voice,
I miss touching you.
Otherwise, I could stay here forever.
I am drunk off beer from an art gallery and I just arrived this morning. I walked to the beach. I ate veggie pallela. I took pictures.
I met a girl named gala from new school and discussed our futures. I ate gelato. I gushed about this city.
Two nights ago I saw radiohead and sigur ros. I couch surfed with a colombian/french girl. I exploded my brain.
Every time I hear your voice,
I miss touching you.
Otherwise, I could stay here forever.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Traveler's Bond
You don't get what it's like to travel alone till you do it.
I am understanding this bond. This essential faith in karma, this vunerable place where you say:
Bring it on, world.
There are people traveling alone everywhere. They will become your instant best friends. You will never forget them.
I spent last night dancing in Monmarte ( a few blocks from the Moulin Rouge) in a historical building with grass covering the floor. It was a garden party/rave and the music kept switching from techno to hip hop, old school to new school.
Stumbling home with friends at 5:30 AM is something I know how to do. I'm an expert in sweating until I forget everything but the milisecond of the beat.
Paris trendy kids are cute. I might have ended up on some nightlife website. Everyone loves my glittery hat.
I spent the daytime at a crazy tattoo convention in a park, meeting people from Japan to 6th st & ave B. Taking pictures of a girl's jewlery for her new line: Drop Dead Bitch. Smiling at people.
The previous day I was in giverny, Monet's hometown- so much green I thought my eyes would burst. You understand how he made his masterpieces. I'd die to live in a house like his. He had the original rainbow collective.
I'm going to cocorosie's art gallery, then dinner with kaija and her family. Home has come to visit me.
I've been spending most of my time with a future lawyer from london, a pot dealer/ photographer from canada, and a few art students from Austria.
I have no complaints, except one:
I wish the worries of home didn't know how to swim or fly. I wish thay stayed landlocked, imprisioned till I chose to face them properly.
I miss you, home. And yet- I'm realizing maybe you are something I can carry with me.
I am understanding this bond. This essential faith in karma, this vunerable place where you say:
Bring it on, world.
There are people traveling alone everywhere. They will become your instant best friends. You will never forget them.
I spent last night dancing in Monmarte ( a few blocks from the Moulin Rouge) in a historical building with grass covering the floor. It was a garden party/rave and the music kept switching from techno to hip hop, old school to new school.
Stumbling home with friends at 5:30 AM is something I know how to do. I'm an expert in sweating until I forget everything but the milisecond of the beat.
Paris trendy kids are cute. I might have ended up on some nightlife website. Everyone loves my glittery hat.
I spent the daytime at a crazy tattoo convention in a park, meeting people from Japan to 6th st & ave B. Taking pictures of a girl's jewlery for her new line: Drop Dead Bitch. Smiling at people.
The previous day I was in giverny, Monet's hometown- so much green I thought my eyes would burst. You understand how he made his masterpieces. I'd die to live in a house like his. He had the original rainbow collective.
I'm going to cocorosie's art gallery, then dinner with kaija and her family. Home has come to visit me.
I've been spending most of my time with a future lawyer from london, a pot dealer/ photographer from canada, and a few art students from Austria.
I have no complaints, except one:
I wish the worries of home didn't know how to swim or fly. I wish thay stayed landlocked, imprisioned till I chose to face them properly.
I miss you, home. And yet- I'm realizing maybe you are something I can carry with me.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Your Body Breaks
I am exhausted.
I have taken pictures of bees, gotten lost in city streets, biked on highways, made friends with strangers, travelled alone, couchsurfed with a family, and overall broken every fear I ever had.
I am tired and worried and hungry and lonely.
I need to stop listening to so much Devandra Banhart.
Paris is very large. The chocolate crossoints are making me large.
I'm in a physical withdrawal. I don't think I'm good at going without cuddling.
I'm love-starved.
Since I've been in Paris I've taken a nap with Victor Hugo, had lunch with Monet and Marie Antoinette, looked at art with Dali, and probably shared a drink and a view with either Fitzgerald or Hemingway. Maybe both.
Paris is dead, though. It's famous for it's tombs, it's past.
I need a city more alive.
I have taken pictures of bees, gotten lost in city streets, biked on highways, made friends with strangers, travelled alone, couchsurfed with a family, and overall broken every fear I ever had.
I am tired and worried and hungry and lonely.
I need to stop listening to so much Devandra Banhart.
Paris is very large. The chocolate crossoints are making me large.
I'm in a physical withdrawal. I don't think I'm good at going without cuddling.
I'm love-starved.
Since I've been in Paris I've taken a nap with Victor Hugo, had lunch with Monet and Marie Antoinette, looked at art with Dali, and probably shared a drink and a view with either Fitzgerald or Hemingway. Maybe both.
Paris is dead, though. It's famous for it's tombs, it's past.
I need a city more alive.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
Where I belong
screw it all, paris is stunning.
They DO speak english.
They ARE NOT terribly mean.
And I feel like a little girl when I look at the eiffel tower.
wow. all over the place.
It's a dirty city, though. Just like new york.
Creperies on every corner and french crawling into my ears.
I had a binge dinner and boat cruise last night.
Jo leaves in an hour.
Then I'm alone.
I go to my first family stay at noon today.
WOW.
They DO speak english.
They ARE NOT terribly mean.
And I feel like a little girl when I look at the eiffel tower.
wow. all over the place.
It's a dirty city, though. Just like new york.
Creperies on every corner and french crawling into my ears.
I had a binge dinner and boat cruise last night.
Jo leaves in an hour.
Then I'm alone.
I go to my first family stay at noon today.
WOW.
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