Madrid to Florence
Seriously, Madrid was a bit of a letdown. Construction everywhere, a wind that damn near blew me over more than once; and if you combine the two, I got grit in my eyes every few minutes.
The Museo Thyssen, one of the largest private collections of art in the world, was alright. I need to rest more when I visit museums... just sit down and chill awhile instead of tiring myself out. But the Museo del Prado was really great stuff: the proto-anime style of "El Greco", the trippy surrealism of Heronymous Bosch, and the religious tryptichs (portable altarpieces in three sections) of the Flemish, jam-packed with meaning in every single square inch of the work, like Hindu temples that leave no blank stone.
But it's just a little unfortunate when I look in the guide book and its main reference to a city is its night life. And while I've had a fun/bizarre time with a drunk Spaniard, that isn't what I came here for. I want to meet people, yes, but I'm pretty sure I've got better things to do than stand around in a bar and drink.
(By-the-way, if there are any lingering typos in these posts, I'm blaming them on foreign keyboards, which have most of the symbols out of place.)
I caught a flight to Florence, because just about everything the book had to say about Barcelona referred to the club scene. The plane ticket, unfortunately, was way more expensive than I'd imagined, and I probably should have just hung out a bit in Madrid until the price went back down. This is the down side of no-fringe airlines: the cost, usually cheap to compete with the train system, tends to fluxuate wildly depending on the number of takers and frequency of the flight.
I feel better in that I've landed at a totally awesome hostel, and I like Florence already. A beautiful day, and perfect weather. The Instituto Gould -- where I'm staying -- is a palace turned religious place turned hostel, and it feels like a university. All of Florence seems friendly, and -- also important -- English-friendly. The downside is *why* it's English-friendly: I've seen lots and lots of Americans. And while I had a really great conversation with an older American couple, that does kinda spoil the experience of journeying out into the world. But I can't complain because I don't know any Italian.
So what do you think? If good men always waited until they thought they were worthy of a blessing, what would the world have already missed out on? But how many good men got ruined by blessings they didn't deserve? Both are paths of magic, yeah, but one's significantly more immediate. (I say that, but I have to realize that I haven't yet put myself into a strenuous enough situation to really warrant that kind of blessing. I don't deserve it yet, and I'm too scared to really throw myself into the teeth of the wild to seek it.)
That's worth talking about. As occasionally scary as it's been to meander about and wish I was home, to walk around with my whole life strapped to me in a backpack, it's still not as if I've walked into a rainforest and hoped my guardian angels would help keep me safe. I'm still in the civilized world, and I can't help but doubt that this isn't the reality-bending Quest I've been reading about.
But we'll see. I've only just arrived in Florence, and the apocalypse could happen anytime.
The Museo Thyssen, one of the largest private collections of art in the world, was alright. I need to rest more when I visit museums... just sit down and chill awhile instead of tiring myself out. But the Museo del Prado was really great stuff: the proto-anime style of "El Greco", the trippy surrealism of Heronymous Bosch, and the religious tryptichs (portable altarpieces in three sections) of the Flemish, jam-packed with meaning in every single square inch of the work, like Hindu temples that leave no blank stone.
But it's just a little unfortunate when I look in the guide book and its main reference to a city is its night life. And while I've had a fun/bizarre time with a drunk Spaniard, that isn't what I came here for. I want to meet people, yes, but I'm pretty sure I've got better things to do than stand around in a bar and drink.
(By-the-way, if there are any lingering typos in these posts, I'm blaming them on foreign keyboards, which have most of the symbols out of place.)
I caught a flight to Florence, because just about everything the book had to say about Barcelona referred to the club scene. The plane ticket, unfortunately, was way more expensive than I'd imagined, and I probably should have just hung out a bit in Madrid until the price went back down. This is the down side of no-fringe airlines: the cost, usually cheap to compete with the train system, tends to fluxuate wildly depending on the number of takers and frequency of the flight.
I feel better in that I've landed at a totally awesome hostel, and I like Florence already. A beautiful day, and perfect weather. The Instituto Gould -- where I'm staying -- is a palace turned religious place turned hostel, and it feels like a university. All of Florence seems friendly, and -- also important -- English-friendly. The downside is *why* it's English-friendly: I've seen lots and lots of Americans. And while I had a really great conversation with an older American couple, that does kinda spoil the experience of journeying out into the world. But I can't complain because I don't know any Italian.
So what do you think? If good men always waited until they thought they were worthy of a blessing, what would the world have already missed out on? But how many good men got ruined by blessings they didn't deserve? Both are paths of magic, yeah, but one's significantly more immediate. (I say that, but I have to realize that I haven't yet put myself into a strenuous enough situation to really warrant that kind of blessing. I don't deserve it yet, and I'm too scared to really throw myself into the teeth of the wild to seek it.)
That's worth talking about. As occasionally scary as it's been to meander about and wish I was home, to walk around with my whole life strapped to me in a backpack, it's still not as if I've walked into a rainforest and hoped my guardian angels would help keep me safe. I'm still in the civilized world, and I can't help but doubt that this isn't the reality-bending Quest I've been reading about.
But we'll see. I've only just arrived in Florence, and the apocalypse could happen anytime.
posted by Ghostwind | 2:47 PM
5 Comments:
Glad to hear you made it to Florence (just across the Ohio River from Cincinnati, "Florence Y'all!"
"Great things are done by people who think great thoughts and then go out into the world to make their dreams come true." Ernest Holmes
What a Quest you are on! My heart goes with you! Take care. Love, D
Hey,Ghost! I hope I am doing this right. Just read your 3/9 post. Like the stillness I sense as you listen within. I think that is where greatest prayer, communion with God, comes from. Most of us just never take the time to listen to our own souls and the sage within. I envy your experiences.
Love forever and always, Mom
Hey man, glad to hear that europe is treating you pretty well.
Strenuous situations are the easier path. They are more problematic, and more fraught with danger, but they are more immediate. And also, i've been led to believe, more temporary. Finding the self and all that jazz is much harder in a place of security, but when you do it's a more permanent sort of finding. Those strenuous situations all come to an end and then you're back in the normalcy of life where those things are hard to maintain. Remember that some things are harder to find the harder you look for them, sometimes you have to sit back and let it come to you. Just make sure you're ready for it when it does come.
- Danny
Dear Eddie
We are very glad that Europe is treating you well. We miss you at home and hope you find what you are looking for. The search for truth is a long journey but the truth can help you realize what you got.
good journey, and remember no matter where you go, there you are :)
-Josh, Heather, Chelsey, and Quinn Abbott
Good words.
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