Wednesday, October 22, 2008

Warm Concrete Feet

It's early Sunday morning (Oct 19th), well early by Buenos Aires standards - 10 am. This great leviathan of a city, that just a few months ago seemed somewhat dormant and gray, is beginning to warm itself on the coals of the spring sun.

The blaze of heat that I used to feel on the bottoms of my feet while walking on the summer sidewalks in San Diego has begun to find its way beneath me once again. Although this time, instead of my destination being the hot sand of a Southern California beach, I find myself arriving to rooftops terraces and inner city parks. Sure, next to friends and family there are few things that I miss more than a salty wind, the calming, blanketing sound of ocean waves and endless blue horizon, but at the same time I am not here to find a bluer ocean, just a different one.

Last weeks thunderstorms have brought waves of green to the trees here, and the warm sidewalks and electric blue skies seem to have brought a freshness to some people's step. Corners of mouths seem to turn up a little bit easier. The concrete will always be concrete but there's something different about it when spring's green and summer's breath descend upon and through the people that live within it.

I unboxed my paints last week and made a trip to the art store to replace some of the art supplies that remain locked away in our storage container waiting for a home. My brushes have laid quiet for too long and it seems they have much to say, so I am going to let them speak. The endless search for the art/yoga studio space rages on however we draw closer by the day.

Currently Reading:
The History of Argentina
by Daniel K. Lewis

Currently Listening To:
Up Against the Crown

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