Farewell #58…

We watched on the live feed as it happened, we saw all the angles, rewatched and gasped when we realized the gravity of what had just happened, and kept working, keeping our eyes glued to the screens everywhere, watching the feeds, the crawl, twitter, email. We heard some false positive news from twitter, ere was a reschedule, and we prepared for a race restart.

The next thing we knew it was canceled, and watched as the big boss went around to each team, one by one. We saw the nodding grave faces, bowed heads and clenched jaws – it became apparent that the worst imaginable was likely. And minutes later we had to clinically announce it to the world, in so many words:

Farewell #58…

No reflection, just get the words out right- but it was hitting pretty close to home for me. I made a few trips to the bathroom and pulled myself together and kept working.

11 hours after I arrived at work, I climbed aboard my scooter and cried all the way home, slowing when tears blurred my vision so much I could no longer see.

In this sport, most of us have experienced the loss of someone close at some point. But familiarity might just make it that much harder to accept. When I say my heart goes out to the family, friends, collegues and even 58’s rivals, it’s not a platitude. There just isn’t any other way to put into words how sorry I am for the shock and sadness those close to him now face and will continue to experience for a long time coming…

I went home and looked at photography of abandoned swimming pools. They resonated a hollow sadness and an absence of a thing once grand. Then I looked up and out my window, and in the fading evening, saw a rainbow appear in the sky.

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Silence at last. And amor.

Oh goodness, it has been over a month since I’ve posted anything. But I swear I have a good reason, I really do!

You see, besides being extremely busy with work, including some very strange and loooong hours, I finally moved! It felt like nearly a lifetime of waiting considering the relentless noise I had to deal with the past few months at my old place, that, coupled with how akin to WC Fields I have become with regard to children (and boy are they particularly loud here) made the summer hellacious in the pursuit of quiet. You never realize how much you need it until you don’t have it.

The new place is quiet, with plenty of light and views and no buildings facing either of my TWO giant balconies! So while my double set of sliding glass doors are on display to the world, I have more privacy than ever. In fact, if the closest building, which is taller than mine, ever entices one of it’s residents out onto their tiny balconies, and if I see they might be looking this way (they are far enough it is hard to tell) I catch myself thinking “hey, mind your own business, this is my space and I’ll paint these chairs in my bathrobe and towel-turbaned head while singing Journey if I want to!” and I go inside in a huff. Quite the turnaround from could-not-care-less snacking naked in my kitchen while the gay couple pretended not to notice from before.

So when I am not working I am doing all of the many things one must do when moving into a (rare) brand new building here. I had to buy an entire household of furniture, which, as fun as that sounds, is quite an ordeal. If I never see the inside of another IKEA, it will be too soon. Ikea here is like Walmart in the US, full of out of control shrieking children and throngs of people shuffling around, albeit through much narrower isles and non regard for personal space – you just shove through grandma and her clan strolling 7 wide through the 4 foot wide aisle, go ahead! They don’t care. They don’t say sorry when they elbow you in the ribs getting by as you are pinned against the LJUSÅS YSBY lamps and NYVOLL dressing tables and you don’t have to either.

I also have been busy setting  up gas, electricity and water, getting the water heater lit, let’s not forget decorating the flat which I have done very tastefully (including a very zen fountain to go with the new silence. My clothes are still in piles on the floor, but I have a little fountain, damnit.) and finally, the challenging task of establishing a connection to that thing they call the internet, which, by the way, I still don not have – I am tethered to my iphone to connect. This is because Internet companies are fucking ridiculously incompetent. I’ve been waiting a month for the installation people just to call to set up an installation, which of course doesn’t mean they will get it right or even do it the first time. So on that front, yay Spain.

The neighborhood has welcomed me with lots of love, manifesting in graffiti of the same theme, which I share with you here.

Old factory wall that remains in the empty lot beside my building, soon to become a park. The wall is staying.

North side of the building next to me, will be one entrance to the park.

Same artist, a few blocks away

Letter slot on a storefront after hours.

This tag was up so high I couldn’t get a good photo of it. It’s much cooler in person.

I’ll post more Love as I find it around the ‘hood!