I had an absolute hoot showing Scott around Madrid today! I made him a little pocket sized guidebook for our walking tour and we embarked a little late after a nice breakfast of chocolate croissants and OJ. :) We made it through the whole walking tour in eight hours, which honestly impressed me!
The best thing of the day? Oddly, the very strange modern art installment at the art museum/gallery in the middle of Retiro Park, right by the Crystal Palace. At first I thought the modern art was just ridiculous (a huge blue canvas that says "Fuck Painting"... really?), but when I came across the sculpture made out of toilet paper, my giggle made me open up just a little to the whole thing (UNEXPLICABLY!? Haha!!). In the last part of the exhibition we came across a ginormous WHITE canvas. I understand canvases come white, but this one was painted white - and perfectly so. No brush strokes, no uneven amounts of white paint. It reminded me of the epic "Blue Wall" I painted in Mrs. Kirschbaum's class in middle school - hee hee!
I examined this white, white canvas up close, then from afar, and then slowly walked towards it again, staring in the same spot. It evoked an extremely altering state in me and I tried it again. Same thing happened. I then told Scott to try. He felt it, too! It was such a large white canvas that as you walked toward it, your entire field of vision was enveloped in white, and suddenly you had no sense of dimension nor space. It was the trippiest feeling I've ever gotten from a painting - especially just a white painting! I did it a few more times and just loved it. It was like an instant meditation - seeing ALL WHITE made time seem to stand still and space seem to drop away. Sure, you can easily envelop yourself in black if you shut the windows and turn of the lights, but enveloping yourself in white? That's a whole different story!
Anyway, I had a great time with Scott and it was fun to be able to show him around while talking about strange things from when we were younger, as well as what was knew with us since we last saw each other years ago. It didn't seem like so much time had gone by, and that both surprised me and didn't at the same time.
I must say, spending 24 hours with the person who was your world when you were 14, 15, 16... nine years later... has got to be the most interesting way to see how you've changed (and how you haven't).
I'm still the brightly colored, giggly, girly, slightly excentric (for lack of a better word?), contradicting, intelligent, unique girl with that zest for life who looks forward to the next adventure and dresses up in rainbow-colored battle gear to meet any challenge head-on.
But that sheltered innocence that made the whole package so very intriguing is long gone. Not to say that all that I am and the intrinsic contradictions aren't intriguing any longer - if anything, they're that much more so!
How can a girl who loves driving around in an adorable little VW Bug love pondering the concept of death? How can a girl who is utterly obsessed with cupcake culture and everything cutsie and kawaii have tattoos and piercings? How can a girl who is so in love with linguistics, foreign languages, writing and etymology use such a low-level, "street" lexicon and take herself seriously? How can such a girly, girly, GIRLY right-leaning girl like girls? How can a girl who sleeps with the same stuffed dog she's had since her 16th birthday have worked at Hooters for a year and LOVED it?
I can see in his eyes as we're on the train that he's not all together sure what to make of this strange combination of 14 year old Chelsea and 23 year old Chelsea, because the things that are different about me now are so GLARINGLY different that it must be disorienting. As we continued to share stories about what we'd been up to, he suddenly said, "You know, I'm actually a little jealous of you - I mean, you've really been LIVING - and leading a really interesting life."
All this time I've been taking to myself since I arrived here in Spain again has been spent trying to tear everything apart and rebuild it from the foundation up. When I arrived I felt so lost, so alone... I didn't quite know who I was - I'd tried so hard to not make a disaster out of everything I'd wanted so badly and finally had, but in the end it all that was left of me was a shell (and not a very convincing one). I summoned all the energy I had to get on that plane and just go. To go towards myself.
Being lost and not knowing where you are (nor where you're headed) is one of the most awful feelings.
I was convinced that everything I'd done was wrong, as was everything I was about to do. That I was unsuccessful and behind and wasting my own time on dreams I wasn't even ready for when I should have been working towards the ones I was ready for.
But when I finally started to find myself again, I realized none of that was true. I'm that rare unicorn who's brave enough and chalk full of boat loads of courage that she is able to follow her heart when most others would just shy away from it and try their best to shush it. I'm that rare unicorn that takes chances. I'm that rare unicorn who is not willing to settle for anything less than an amazing life and will do the impossible to pull herself out of something that's no longer serving her highest self. I'm a unicorn because I'm what some people want to believe in, but convince themselves can't be real and continue living their life as is.
But why can't unicorns exist? ;) Afterall, Narwhals do... and, in my humble opinion, they're WAY more fantastical than a unicorn! Haha.
Showing someone around my European town who knew me better than just about anybody else when I was 15 made me realize how proud I am of who I've become and the choices I've made to get where I am. When all is said and done, my life is anything but dull, and is filled with adventure, risks, bright colors, cupcakes, writing and a lot of love. I know 14 year old would be incredulous and flabbergasted by how I've changed, but I also know that she would be absolutely awestruck and in love with who she was to become. ;)
The past few nights I've had dreams in which I was wearing an engagement ring - not my Tiffany & Co. engagement ring, but a very classy Verragio-styled one. Each night the diamond seems to get a little bigger. I only search my dreams in a dream dictionary if they're reoccurring in a small period of time, and here's what I got:
"To
see or receive a ring in your dream symbolizes emotional wholeness,
continuity, commitments and honor. If the ring is on your finger, then
it signifies your commitment to a relationship or to a new endeavor. You
are loyal to your ideals, responsibilities, or beliefs.
To
see diamonds in your dream signify the wholeness of the Self. You may
be finding clarity in matters that have been clouding you. "
^_^ Yep - I'd say that about sums it up!
xoxo
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