San Isidro con fuego...

Every year Madrileños celebrate San Isidro by dressing up as chulapos and attending concerts, dances, and exhibitions. It's a lovely way to spend the weekend. I never really participate, for whatever reason, but this year I attended one fabulous concert, Mickey y los Colosos, and an art exhibit along the river. The firey sculptures were fantastic, simple, and motorized. It made me miss the welding torch at university and all the possibilities you can dream up when working in three dimensions and with found objects. I can't wait to go back to school and have all that equiptment at my fingertips again.

The sculpture on the left is motorized and its arms move up and down like a flower in bloom over the water.

Tim Burton-esque walking figures with alarm clock heads. De puta madre. Old radios were hung in the young trees surrounding the figures and played scratchy music.

This sculpture moved and had a free-standing porch swing set up nearby. A carnival of fire.

The river.

The band is made up of three different bands, the most prolific of which is Los Impossibles, but together they make Mickey y los Colosos. Mickey is either in his 70s or is not aging well. But man! That guy can groove! He had all kinds of passion and had the entire audience rocking out in no time flat. Amazing.

The Cathedral accross the bridge.

The Cathedral after the rain.

I Don't Love Anyone

I don't love anyone.

A harried face, a cold hand.

You're not listening.

I'm losing something.... missing something.

You're playing with something, you're playing with yourself.

A new friend, old memories. Questions sliding in and out of soft glances and sad smiles.

I don't love anything, Not even Christmas.

The scent of jasmine from my terrace, the cool shade in the breeze.

If there's one thing I learned when I was still a child is to be alone.

My sundress flowing past the down coat of a homeless man.

I met a man today and he told me something pretty strange.

"Make sure you get what you need."

There's always somebody saying something.

My chest is tight and my legs full of sand.

He said, "The world was as soft as lace."

The breeze wraps my hair around my neck.

If there's one thing I learned when I was still a child is to take a hiding.


(Lyrics from Belle and Sebastian's "I Don't Love Anyone")

Madrid, My Love