Artist date #2 - Bún Riêu (Crab noodle soup)

Nothing makes me happier than rushing to the Asian store following a sudden urge, then running home to combine broth ingredients in a big pot, dashing big spurts of fish sauce into it, cooking rice noodles, washing herbs, and ending up with a big pot of hot bubbly goodness on the stove.

I followed my mom's recipe, but the definite inspiration came from here. 

The Michis

Last month, two dear friends came for a week-long visit. We had a fabulous time.

We went to see the last procession of Semana Santa. We went for long walks by the river, Plaza de España. We finally went to see the Cathedral from inside. And most importantly, we ate a lot of great food together.

Watching the procession in Calle San Luís

Jesus resurrected

Entering the church backwards.

Virgen de la Aurora

Walking through the rose petals people had thrown at the procession

A kid's dream! (Photo by John Flury)

Torrijas, a typical Easter treat. Sweet and sticky!

Strolling around the Cathedral (Photo by John Flury)

Thank you chicas for visiting - it was wonderful to have you! :)

Only in Spain...

I found these two pearls sitting next to each other in the book store last week.

Artist date #1 - Cupcakes

I've started with a book-course called "The Artist's Way" (by Julia Cameron). It's a twelve-week writing course directed to anyone who wants to live a more creative life but doesn't know how - hence the word "blocked artist". I feel like that book is talking directly to me; it's almost scary. I can really, really recommend this course to anyone who wants to be creative.

Every week, I take myself on an "artist date". For the first week, I decided to decorate cupcakes - something that my inner artist child loves to do. Cupcakes are so fun and cute and lovable.

I set out to the supermarket and got some supplies: Powdered sugar, butter, vanilla extract, food coloring and of course, sprinkles.

Since I don't have an oven to bake cupcakes with, I bought some madeleines to frost. I beat the frosting by hand. I frosted them using a plastic bag that I cut up. Voilà!

Smile :)))

Fighting battles

Andalucía sky between Sevilla and Cádiz, April 2012

I've gone to war.

Well, in a figurative sense of way. Back in February, I finally woke up to the sounds of the demon inside me, trying to ruin my life with constant criticism and guilt-making. The demon has been making these sounds for years - since the beginning of my existence, or so I feel. It has been commanding me what to do, how I should behave, how to live... since I can remember.

For the longest time, I thought that voice was me. I thought that I wanted what the voice wanted. I've learned quite a few years ago ago that the voice is NOT me. That the demon's arguments are quickly dismantled with some rational arguing. But it's hard to escape the demon - it wouldn't go away. It keeps convincing me that it is right. And, it's safe to keep listening to a voice that has been with you all your life.

And so I brought this demon with me to Spain. It's been sitting on my shoulder in every flamenco class. It looks with me at my reflection in the mirror and softly whispers a steady stream of criticism in my ear. It sits beside me at every dinner I eat, admonishing to do the dishes immediately afterwards. It observes what I do at the computer, telling me to go to bed. It bangs on my head in the morning, urging me to get out of bed and 'carpe diem'. When I won't do what I am told, it wraps itself tightly around my neck and makes my throat feel tight, oh so tight with guilt.

But last  February, something cracked inside. I felt like I could not keep going with the guilt and self-beating. I could not keep dancing like his. I would not be blocked that way. I would not tolerate this voice any longer, trying to intrude in my life.

In the course of the last few weeks I have been learning to listen to the demon as a separate voice, a voice that is not the real me. It's hard, it talks and talks all day, it's stressing me out. Learning to be aware of it is just the first step out of this business.

I have taken measures to start taking care of myself. I have started to give myself permission to just be and breathe. I have left my school.

I want to learn to relax, so I can be inspired and creative again. I want to remind myself that there is nothing I MUST do. I came here for fun and because I am passionate about flamenco. Not because of any 'shoulds'.

The demon must learn that although his voice is welcome at times, he will only every be a small part of me. It's time to let my creative artist child out to play. That one has been locked in a room for very long. I've stolen the key from the demon and have let it out. Of course it's afraid at first, but I hope to encourage it to jump and run and whoop and sing and dance.

So, instead of going to school, I want to let my creative juices flow. I want to cook Vietnamese food and decorate cupcakes and make a website and do some flamenco singing. I might go to the arts and crafts store and decorate some 'peinetas' by hand. I'll go salsa dancing and take funny pictures with my camera. I will write and paint and be silly. I'll go to the beach and collect seashells. And THEN - when I feel like it - I'll go and dance some flamenco. Maybe some bulerías.

I just noticed that I wrote the exact same list last Christmas, saddened because I was renouncing all those activities for the sake of going to dance classes. Well, now I am giving myself permission to do them!

Rainy Semana Santa

Long time no blog. Quite a few things have changed around here. I'm on Easter holiday right now... here in Sevilla it's called "Semana Santa". And it's been raining a lot!

A week ago, my sweetheart arrived. He is planning to study flamenco percussion for 4 months! That is very exciting. We moved to a sweet little appartment straight away. It's not big, but has got some big perks that I've been missing: Nice hot water pressure in the shower, our own washing machine, marble floors, air conditioning and an orange tree outside the window, which spreads its lovely orange blossom scent into our room at night.

On Palm Sunday, the most impressive week of the entire Catholic world started: The processions of Semana Santa, the Holy Week. Almost 60 brotherhoods carry their Jesus and Virgin statues in a solemn procession to the Cathedral to absolve their sins - the "estación de penitencia". Some processions include 3000 penitents, the "nazarenos", who wear big pointy hats and walk in silence, sometimes barefoot. The statues follow behind, placed on heavy floats and decorated with candles and flowers. The floats weigh over 2 tons and are carried by about 50 men. The Christ and Virgin are fiercely venerated and the many hundreds (sometimes thousands) of onlookers hush into silence when their adored Virgin is carried by. Someone on a balcony might sing break into a "saeta", a religious song which sounds like flamenco.

Cristo del Silencio, photo by John Flury

Unfortunately, the first days of Holy Week were marked by heavy falls of rain. That means that the valuable statues cannot be carried to the Cathedral. However, many times this week, wherever we would go somewhere, a procession was blocking the way.

We got a small reprieve on Wednesday and went to see some "pasos" - floats. It rained again all Thursday. The most important processions take place in the small hours of Friday morning - coming out of their churches at 1AM, some not returning to their homechurch till 2PM of that day. We got lucky, the sky cleared up around midnight, so we rushed to the center to see "El Silencio" go by. This procession passes in absolute silence. When the Christ and the Virgin pass by, there is no sound to be heard. An impressive feat for the noisy and talk-loving Sevillanos!

On our way home to the Macarena, we were blocked by the procession of that same neighborhood. The entire barrio was out to see "their" virgin. There was no way through. So we waited, and watched. And there she came. The crowd applauded, some people in tears.

Virgen de la Macarena, photo by John Flury

I am not a believer and even less Catholic, so hearing about the processions of Semana Santa made me shake my head. There are many rules and it's a very fundamentalist affair. However, I wasn't expecting the folk festival atmosphere nor the festivity in the air - the Sevillanos do know how to celebrate. The music played by the procession bands is beautiful, and the adoration and veneration an entire neighborhood feels for their Virgin is very powerful. It was a nice experience to be able to take part in the onlooking and be part of the crowd.