the "pick a year" game

I just realised that I've been blogging for 6 years. I began in New Zealand, after leaving Spain the first time. Today, I am sitting barefoot on the floor of a hostel in Zagreb (Croatia) in olive coloured thai pants and a light blue singlet. The thai pants were given to me in Roma Easter week this year by an old friend. The singlet was given to me by an old Brasilian flatmate in Barcelona three years ago. The toe ring today is a silver swirl I picked up randomly in Madrid for a couple of euros. My earrings are typical from the region of Dalmatia that I just left. My glasses should have their lenses updated at some point- they're the same ones that I got 3 years ago in Malaysia. I'm listening to Portuguese Fado, contemplating visiting friends in Porto at the end of my very long summer. Next to me is my train ticket to Russia that leaves in the morning.

I'm 32. I often feel like a patchwork of my life or indeed, many lives. I'm not particularly ambitious except to see and experience the world and its many flavours. I love, that is all. Everywhere I go, I fall in love with the people, their ways and their rhythms and flavours. I don't own much, nor do I particularly want to. I don't think that I understand the concept of "ownership" ...or perhaps I understand it too well? I don't believe you can really "own" anything. We're all just passing through. Granted, it amuses me to feel that I own a laptop or a camera and perhaps one day a house...but it's all an illusion.

I love my life. It is everything I ever dreamed and everything that I never dreamed.
I'm blessed. I'm rich beyond riches, for everything that I own is within.

The "pick a year game"
I never know what to say when people ask me where I'm from. "I live in Madrid." or should I tell them about the village where I was born but left 20 years ago and that has since been bulldozed to make way for outlet malls? "Pick a year and I'll tell you where I was." With the wonders of blogger, I can do this too. I was just reading December entries from each of the last several years- Germany, Japan, Spain*, Boston, Maldives*, Malaysia, Singapore, Borneo, Gibraltar and who knows where this year?

I love so many people that I haven't spoken to in years. You're still in my thoughts, in my dreams I still wander with you to our old haunts. We laugh and sing and eat and drink and everything that went before. The past lives within me like a world of its own. I have no sense of time. You are always welcome in my life. It is a wonderful thing when someone that you love from your past resurfaces and you can know them again.

*twice

Every so often, I get rather nostalgic (note, listening to Fado will do that to you too) and I found this entry from a December in the Maldives.

dreams...

It's nearly three in the morning. I'm alone in my office which will soon be my classroom. My infamous world-traveled red silk kerchief on my head, my favorite jeans, a singlet and a hooded sweatshirt, naked feet except for my butterfly toe ring that reminds me of a day in Barcelona with Racquel...

I'm listening to songs that remind me of all of the places I've been like wisps of fog near the shore stretching into the vast expanse of ocean . I wonder about the people in those memories. Is Sebastian still wandering the deserts of Humahuaca happily cooking a meal in the day while wild burros watch on? Does Katherine still go for sushi when she's feeling blue and swimming on Sundays? Is sexy red-headed Jeannine dancing wildly at a disco somewhere in Germany? Has Junsuke finally found his way to Australia? Are all of my dance partners still dancing? What happened to the old Grinder's gang?

I wonder who checks my webpage and wish that all of my friends had webpages for me to check to see how they are doing.

The water here is enchanting. Alone on a kayak, alternately racing through the water or sitting still tasting, breathing, feeling the infinite...I remember so many people. How beautiful life is!

I dream of buying a house in Argentina. Some little place to plant a garden. I would make it into a hostel for young people who like to travel but have little money. Perhaps I would also do English classes out of one of the rooms. Maybe have a community room. It would be the sort of place that one would want to raise children in. They would be bi-lingual from the start.

I see my dreams swimming past my eyes like dragonflies filling the afternoon with magic.