Glitter And Be Gay

Thursday evening, San Geraldo, Kristina (click here if you don't know about Kristina), and I checked out Málaga's Christmas decorations. San Geraldo found a restaurant recommendation online. We tried it and have now scratched it from our list. Later in the evening, Kristina sniffed out a tea house/dessert place, and that's now at the top of our list. As for the rest, the company and the decorations glittered. (Click any image for a closer look.)

Calle Larios, a grand, pedestrianized central street of the old city.

AFTER THE SKY COMPLETELY DARKENED.

A STREET PERFORMER.
AT LEAST I THINK HE WAS A STREET PERFORMER.

ONE OF SEVERAL CHRISTMAS TREES,
THIS ONE IN PLAZA DE LA CONSTITUCIÓN.

CHANGING COLORS ON PLAZA DE LA CONSTITUCIÓN.

LOOKING DOWN A SIDE STREET.

WALKING DOWN THAT SIDE STREET.

ANOTHER SIDE STREET.

CATHEDRAL TOWER.

THE CATHEDRAL WITH ITS ORANGE TREES DRAPED IN LIGHTS (AND ORANGES).

All that glitter and this is the song that came to my mind: "Glitter And Be Gay"

You've Got To Be In Love To See A Purple Cow

San Geraldo made chicken soup Monday night. It was delicious. It was filled with vegetables. It was nutritious.

It was purple.

At Ana Crespillo's fruit market Monday morning, San Geraldo picked up some unbelievably beautiful carrots. He tasted some as he cut them up for the soup. He said they were unbelievably delicious. They were also purple.

PURPLE CARROTS AT ANA CRESPILLO'S MARKET, LOS BOLICHES.
(CLICK ANY IMAGE TO "PURPLIZE.")

I just learned that until the late 16th century, most carrots were purple, with mutations in yellow and white. At that time, Dutch growers began developing the orange carrots that we now know so well.

Sadly, no Dutch growers were available to tell San Geraldo what purple carrots would do to his soup. The potatoes and other vegetables — and the chicken — took on a sickly lavender hue. The broth was a richer shade of lavender. Surprisingly... or perhaps not surprisingly... it tasted just like chicken soup.

But, it was similar to the color of borscht (made from beets).

I hate borscht, but I liked the soup.

San Geraldo loves borscht, but not purple chicken soup.

COOKED PURPLE CARROT.

Maybe, like Doris Day, I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in love...




And, speaking of a purple cow...

SAN GERALDO SPOTTED THIS PEELING PAINT FROM HIS WINDOW.
IT LOOKS JUST LIKE A BUFFALO.

THIS IS WHAT I SEE WHEN I LOOK OUT THAT WINDOW.

INSPIRATION FOR THE SONG: POEM BY GELETT BURGESS, 1895.
(ILLUSTRATION BY BURGESS, TOO.)

Sweet Inspiration

I used to consider myself an artist. If I had at hand a pen, pencil, crayon, piece of chalk, or anything that could leave a mark, I would draw. A dusty table was always a joy. To my parents consternation, steamed up windows (in the car, in the kitchen) were a perfect medium. At those times, I drew for myself. I was never as relaxed as when I was doodling my stream-of-consciousness creations.

The first time I visited Florence, Italy, I was 19. I was tempted to stay, parking myself on the Ponte Vecchio with other hippy-type artists. But, as you know, I like to eat. And I don't like to share a bathroom. And, even with the best diet I looked under-nourished, so starving young artist would have been extreme.

I worked as an illustrator at a few points in my early career. I could produce on-demand and per specifications. But I never enjoyed it.

My career evolved into graphic design and production, writing and editing, publications management, and a few other creative and non-creative businesses along the way. Since I haven't been creating every hour of every day (or even one day of every month) for years, I feel like I've lost my mojo. I would try to simply doodle but found myself trying too hard.

A DOODLE FROM WAY BACK.

CARRARA, ITALY.  ALONE IN MY ROOM.

ON A TRAIN TO FLORENCE, ITALY.
MY FRIEND JOSEPHINE HAS THIS HANGING IN HER HOME IN SICILY.
(YOU CAN SEE HER REFLECTED IN THE GLASS AS SHE SNAPPED THE PHOTO.)

SITTING AT HOME IN BOSTON WITH NOTHING TO DO.

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETTS.
PASSING SOME TIME WHILE WAITING FOR A FRIEND.

SAN JUAN, PUERTO RICO, KILLING TIME BY THE POOL.
SAN GERALDO'S BUTT SEEMED LIKE A GOOD SUBJECT.

Then along came Javier (click here). I was honored to be asked to contribute something to his personal collection of artists' works. After lots of brainstorms, I decided to simply doodle. I completed my page this morning and I was, throughout the process, elated doing it. As has been common practice for most of Javier's contributors, I worked on my own paper and then pasted it onto my assigned page in the sketch book. I applied an excellent paper glue — invisible, smooth... and permanent.

THE LATEST DOODLE.  IT'S A START.

Then I regretted it.

And that's the story of my life. Maybe in another 10 (or 40) years I'll look at my doodle and enjoy it. For now, at least I have something to give to Javier and I'm inspired to get back to creating on a daily basis.

Temptation, I Can't Resist

I''ve been trying to get up to speed on my new photo-editing software. My old (very old) version of Adobe Photoshop isn't compatible with my new (very new) operating system. I'd rather not spend the money on the new Photoshop. So, I downloaded GIMP. I don't like the name (which originally stood for General Image Manipulation Program), but it appears to be able to do just about everything Photoshop can. The tools just aren't in the same places.

Also, I've been working joyfully on my drawing for Javier's artists' diary (click here), which means I've been completely absorbed and don't even want to take a break for meals. I'll be sharing my finished piece with you this week.

Speaking of food, I've eaten my way through a goodly amount of the sweets the Dowager Duchess sent me home with. Unfortunately, more were added to the assortment. Our sometimes-neighbor Jean asked me if I had ever liked any English chocolates. I told her my family used to always bring back a tin of Macintosh (now Nestlē) Quality Street chocolates. I'm not too bright. Jean and Ray returned that evening with a container of those. (All gone now.)

That same day, San Geraldo returned from the supermarket with a gift for me because I seemed a bit down — barquillos al chocolate (chocolate-filled wafers). (All gone now.)

And then there's a  store that just opened down the street for the Christmas season. It's filled with all traditional Andalusian treats and I felt obligated to try at least a few. (And, yes, all gone now.)

As if all the above were not enough temptation, Ana and David at our local fruit market have a supply of holiday goodies. Chocolate-covered nuts of just about every type, wine gums, and more. It took all my self-control to come home from there empty handed.

IN EASY REACH AT MY NEW COMPUTER (AND NOW GONE).

ALL THAT REMAINS...

I HAD ABSOLUTELY NO CHOICE.
RAINY WEATHER FORCED ME INSIDE.

STILL AT THE FRUIT MARKET.
(I'M JUST WAITING TO CLEAR SOME SPACE AT HOME.)

WOULD YOU SAY NO TO DAVID?

And that should explain why my blogging attendance has been so sporadic lately. Just too much temptation.

The Ladies' Room And The Handlebar Moustache

I've been out of commission for several days. San Geraldo and I have very old laptop computers. We've each used ours for years as desktop computers by plugging in a large monitor, and external mouse and keyboard. But they're old and tired and, even if they weren't tired, they can't keep up with the memory hogging applications and peripherals we now use. They freeze and jiggle and lock-up. The fan on mine runs constantly and the laptop will still overheat if I don't turn on an external fan stand.

So, The Dowager Duchess bought us new desktop computers!!! She's amazing, I know. We are so lucky to have her and her generosity is the least of the reasons.

We are now the proud owners of brand-new, super-duper, iMacs... with all the bells and whistles. Thank you, again, Dowager Duchess.

We have spent the last several days "migrating" what we can from our MacBooks to our new iMacs. It's never as easy as it's cracked up to be. San Geraldo's migration went a little more smoothly than did mine. The people on Apple Support have been great. I spent about six hours chatting with them!

But I've at least got a wonderful, powerful, sleek and beautiful new computer. Oh how I love the bells and whistles. Now I just have to get up to speed on some new software, and figure out where everything is on my Spanish keyboard.

Last night we had dinner with Tynan and Elena — a belated birthday dinner for The Goddess. We went to El Rio, which has become another one of our regular haunts. I glanced across the long space and noticed the signs on the restroom doors.

"Oh my, God," I said. "I used the women's room last time I was here."

"What?!?" Elena laughed. "You did not!"

"Yeah, I used the one on the left. The one on the right has a picture of a guy with a handlebar mustache. Obviously, the men's room."

"Handlebar mustache? What are you talking about? That's a girl with pigtails!"

We went for a closer look. I won't tell you who was right. But when I pulled out my camera, our waiter Francisco, laughed and told me, "That happens all the time."

THE UNIVERSAL SYMBOLS ATOP THE DOORS ARE A DEAD GIVE-AWAY.

I REALIZE IT'S MORE OF A SHAVING BRUSH MUSTACHE THAN A HANDLEBAR...

The video is a stretch but, well, it's "bathroom session."

I Don't Know What To Say, The Monkey Won't Do

Our friend Miguel, from Sevilla, (click here if you don't know him) was in town this week and we had the pleasure of spending some time together. He arrived with gifts for Christmas, among which was a box filled with traditional pastries. The nuns at the convents bake these delicious pastries for Christmas every year.

You may have noticed that I said there "was" a box. Well, there still is a box; it's just no longer filled with pastries. It's a mystery what happened to them. San Geraldo only had one (really and truly).

MYSTERIOUSLY EMPTY NOW...

I have a problem with the Spanish word for nuns. It's easy to say, but I seem to have a mental block. I remember telling Miguel a while back about a "nona" in our neighborhood. Miguel's eyebrows went a little crooked. He had no idea what I was talking about. So, I clarified with "una hermana de la iglesia" (a sister of the church).

Miguel laughed and said, "Monja." (which sounds a bit like MOAN-ha)

So, here I am two years later telling Miguel how much I always love the Christmas goodies baked by the "monas."

And there again went Miguel's eyebrows.

I speak (somewhat) Castilian Spanish, which is the standard for much of the country.

— In Castilian Spanish, "mono" is monkey.

In Catalonia (northeastern Spain), Catalan Spanish is common and the co-official language of the region.

— In Catalan Spanish, "mona" is monkey.

No offense intended to the monjas. I'm so pleased Miguel finds me entertaining.

I then learned from Miguel all about "mona de pascua" (Easter cake), adorned with whole eggs. (Click here if you're interested in learning more about that tradition. Once there, click on the words "See the full transcript.")

FROM THE WEB: AN EXAMPLE OF MONA DE PASCUA.

Speaking of Eggs
Our visiting neighbors, Jean and Ray, bought a dozen eggs in the supermarket the other day. Jean wanted to cook up a traditional English breakfast to include bacon and fried eggs. She cracked the first egg over the bowl this morning. To her shock, it was hard-boiled.

So, Jean grabbed another egg. But it was also hard-boiled. It wasn't until she tried the sixth egg that she realized the entire carton was filled with hard-boiled eggs. (I would have been more surprised if that hadn't been the case.)

Anyway, it's something we noticed while living in Sevilla (but San Geraldo has since forgotten). You can buy cartons of pre-boiled eggs in the supermarket. Now that's my idea of cooking. (Too bad you still have to remove the shells.)


And back to the monkey...

The Sun's In My Heart

Today was a glorious day. Although, San Geraldo doesn't agree. He and I had an appointment at the bank this morning and then stopped at Cafe Manila for coffee and a visit with some of our favorite people.

It rained overnight, heavily at times, and was raining lightly when we made our way to the bank. The rain was a little steadier when we left the bank a half hour later. We arrived on the terrace (the covered terrace) at Cafe Manila just as a downpour began.

The mostly English patrons turned their chairs to face the seaside. I was told that's what English people do in England — sit in rows and stare at the sea. Or maybe they sit in rows and stare at the rain. As one man came in, he muttered, "Och! Tis lik Scootlund in Augist!"

Sae noo, click ony photie fur th' muckle picture...
Oh, sorry! So now, click any image for the big picture.

WET FACES (AND FEET) ON THE FRONTLINE.

OF COURSE SOME HARDCORE STICK-WALKERS WERE STILL AT IT.

Tynan snapped pictures of me as I snapped pictures.

No matter what San Geraldo says about the rain, from where I stand or sit, the sun is shining all over the place. Besides, he and I sang all the way home.

A Blank Page

On our morning visits to Cafe El 90, we had often noticed a man having coffee at a nearby table — sometimes alone and sometimes with one friend or another. After a few times, he and I began to bid each other a quick "buenos días." It took me months to introduce myself; my less-than-perfect Spanish sometimes holding me back. Finally last week, we (Javier and I) were able to meet for a cup of coffee and some conversation. Javier, it turns out, has been an art gallery manager and curator for much of his professional life.

In the 1980s Javier began to carry around a little red book that he'd share with his artist friends and acquaintances, telling them to  create a work of art on the next available page. The results are astounding. Watercolor, mixed media, collage, pen and ink, pencil, oils, acrylics.

THE BOTTOM BOOK AWAITS...

Javier is now well into Book #2. He only invites "artists" to participate, so I was honored when he showed me my page and told me to create. OK, I was also nervous. But I've unpacked my art supplies and I'm already finding inspiration. I look forward to sharing my creation with Javier and, of course, with you. In the meantime, below is a small sampling of the talented company I'll be keeping. (Click any image for a closer look.)

JAVIER OUT FOR A SPIN WITH "THE KIDS."

So now all I have to do is — according to Georges Seurat — "bring order to the whole. Through design, composition, tension, balance, light, and harmony."