Life Chapter: The end of the rebuild.
After last week’s blogs, Route 66, Memory Lane, and Full Circle, I’ve reached the point where "Rebuilding" has no place in my bio. Those blogs were unplanned. Memory Lane was written and never meant for release. I decided not to release it initially, and then months later I changed my mind, edited it into what it is now, and released it. As for why I published it, the rebuilding of my inner world is done now. It requires maintenance and building on top of it.
I even thought, "well, that’s it." I would stop blogging altogether and go back to the original idea, which was to post illustration process and UI/UX projects, which are now art chapters. But I think I mentioned this before, that this blog will slowly transform into that anyway, with fewer and fewer life and reflection chapters as I go on.
"Rebuilding was the bridge away from my old life and my old self. Becoming is the forest on the other side, and now it’s mine to explore."
With that out of the way:
Vaca was fun, but it left me a bit disappointed. I feel a bit frustrated. It’s not the vaca I wanted to spend with my mom. Gran Canaria didn’t feel like Spain, which I found a little annoying. There is so much tourism there, the annoying kind, at least for me. It’s all about eating and wellness and flipping the pancake. Not a reference to people’s behinds. What I mean by that is sunbathing and doing nothing except turning around like a rotisserie chicken. I can do that for one day max, not seven. And like I mentioned in a previous blog, we were met with bad weather, and there isn’t much to do in Gran Canaria. There are some museums, but not enough, I’ll be honest. I should have prepared for the bad weather. But then again, the locals told us it was the worst weather in 15 years, so we adapted and went outside either way. The rain showers never lasted very long, but they were frequent. But aside from that, what bothered me the most is that we were always spoken to in English. That bothered my mom more than me. When I visit a country, I go for the culture, the local food. You want to see the little old people walking around doing their thing. You want to see the locals relax and enjoy their lives. I didn’t see any of that. My mom wanted to be around Spanish people and probably experience what I just described. I would have hoped to sit in a café surrounded by locals, like I have done so many times during my travels. I think it happened once, when we ate the best churros I had had in a while, with hot cocoa.
We enjoyed the little things Gran Canaria had to offer, and I think my mom did too. We didn’t do the boat ride because of the bad weather, but my mom absolutely loved the camel ride. When we were souvenir hunting, she just wanted to find something with a camel on it. Needless to say, she was obsessed with camels. We did most of the highlights. I’ll be posting the best photos soon. I won’t talk too much about Gran Canaria. I am just glad I got to do this trip with my mom and reconnect to my Spanish roots, although there are probably better places than Gran Canaria for that. I’m not sure where my next travel might be. Most likely it will be Egypt. I was always fascinated by ancient civilizations: Egypt, Vikings, ancient Rome, Greece, the Mayans, the Inca, Mongolia, feudal Japan, and so many more. To me, they are a source of inspiration. I’m thinking of exploring countries closer to home for a while, although Alaska is still on my mind.
As for this past weekend, I went to a bachata festival. Completely too early, if you ask me, for someone who has only been dancing for 3 months. I was completely overwhelmed. I wanted to run away, but I didn’t. However, by the end of day 2, while talking to a friend, I completely lost it mid-conversation and had a panic attack. My friend was confused, but she comforted me. She encouraged me, and I opened up once more instead of shutting down. Although I had a panic attack, it was a short one, and I could snap out of it quite quickly.
I had a lot of conversations with diffrent people, and I think I met 'Jesus' at some point. The bouncer at the party and I talked. I was just being nice to him, and we ended up talking several times that night. Somehow, in the short conversations we had, they were deep and about life. It felt like I was talking to Jesus, a saint, a wise man. How did this even happen?
I had several conversations this past weekend, and they all seemed to hit close to home for me. One of them was about friendship loss. Although I was listening more than really talking about my own experience, silent tears appeared. I only noticed the tears when they rolled down my cheek. It was honestly a great weekend with a lot of dancing, encouragement, and emotion. This past weekend was overwhelming in a good way, although I don’t recommend anyone going to a dance festival when they have just started dancing. It’s Sunday morning now, and there is one more day of the festival left, but I think I’ll stay home today to rest.
on Saterday i decided to make this shirt. i wish i didn’t. Because, It worked too well. :D