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#111: By the Water’s Edge in Catalunya, We Walk
Some thoughts on Spain, friendship, and the medium through which we find ourselves most artistically at home
It is Saturday, and I am walking languidly along the shoreline of Barceloneta with my best friend, Ayanda. I know I should be wearing sneakers, but I am wearing a pair of flip-flops that my father gifted me. They were so tight at first, cutting into my feet for weeks, but now they have molded around my heels, becoming more comfortable with each and every use.
We live here, Ayanda and I.
I marvel at that.
This life we’ve made together, with its adventurous tenor, its purposeful march. I like the way she whistles and to hear her sing in the evenings.
In such a short time, we’ve built so much together. A relationship, a business, a life. Everything is expanding, growing, deepening, thickening.
Last week, when we were watching the Before Sunrise series, Richard Linklater’s charming trilogy about a couple whose one night together ties the red string of fate between them, I got to thinking about getting older.
It is July 2nd as I write this. In just a few days, I will be 31. It’s so strange; I never imagined becoming such an age. The 30s…
