Art

I have had the opportunity to show some of my art in a cafe. Its in this little Italian piadina place in a great part of the city, Gracia. This neighborhood is full of artists,individuals,inspiration and creativity. I love this barrio.
The art in the pictures are new prints i have been doing in my art class here. I am learning a new technique called grabado. Its similar to printmaking. We have been experimenting with textures and colors. I take classes from a gorgeous dark-skinned catalan. Her name is Nuria and she is 26 and has this incredible studio space in the old city. She paints but also opens her studio up for classes.She plays great music and wears a white apron.She always has paint on her hands.I have decided i want to be just like her...

voice.

I have been completely stripped of my voice. I am in a place that doesn’t speak my language, obviously. I can’t tell jokes, be sarcastic or clever. I didn’t realize how much I depend on my words. I use them as currency to make friends, to make excuses, to build facades, to get what I want. Not always but sometimes. This new silence is a good thing. No more verbal tap-dancing for pennies of affirmation.This environment is preventing all my energies from being spilled out through the rupture of my mouth, exhausting me and filling the world with words, words, words.
Some days I hear over hear English on the metro or in the streets and catch what the conversation is about and the subject is typically (in my opinion) trite or silly. I think we use what we say as filler to awkward moments, to build ourselves up, or to make someone feel comfortable. Maybe these things are fine but I wonder is we can use our words for more. To encourage, rebuke, sharpen, build one another up and glorify the things that should be glorified. So what then should be on our lips? I’m not sure but I am definitely learning to listen and people want to tell their stories…

belleza.

I don’t think I have mentioned how beautiful Barcelona is. The city is soaked in belleza. Everyday I wake up to the city out my window, say a prayer of thanksgiving and whisper buenos dias to my Spanish roommate, Julia. I walk to school on cobblestone streets to learn a new and beautiful language with people from all around the world. I pass by plazas filled with pigeons; I go to parks with orange trees and 500-year-old statues. I paint in a little studio that plays Brazilian music that sits next to a cathedral, which is always lending me its inspiration. People enjoy life here because life is beautiful. You see men in their business suits lying in the middle of the grass taking their siestas. The cafes are filled with coffee and conversation. Couples are always kissing, music is always playing, artist are always creating…
I was reminded of this beauty one day on the metro. I was headed somewhere just like everybody else, going from A to B then back to A from B. I was overcome with the monotony of the metro and its endless cycle, back and forth; round and round like a treadmill. Then a man got on and began to play a song on his accordion. Instantly our metro car came alive. People’s heads came out of their books, smiles spread across their faces, and feet started tapping to the beat.
My friends and I have been talking a lot about art and our role as artists. It seems we have a call to push back darkness in the world. We want to add color where there is gray, life where there is death, joy where there is sorrow... Photography causes your eyes to notice the detail of the world around you. Dance opens your eyes to the movement of the body. Music fills you with feeling.
My friend Andres said that beauty gives sense to things that might not have sense. I think what he says is true. Or at least I know I can’t explain how I feel but when I listen to Coldplay or look at a Van Gogh I know im not the only one.