Saturday, October 1, 2016
I'm open to talking and corresponding, mainly corresponding, I don't like the phone, so you'd have to be in Barcelona to actually talk talk.
I'm sort of a hermit girl, quiet as a mouse, never seen in short tight dresses in early am club frenzies, surrounded and jammed together with other sweaty, desperate, evolved monkeys. (Yes I do know the difference between ape and monkey, but that is a tail for another day).
I DO socialize here in Barcelona, but it tends to be superficial, hi how are you? Fine? Great! Or those wine fueled deep talks with people at parties who just want to insist on their world view as if it were the pronouncements of THE oracle. I can follow along for a while but wine and thinking are divergent courses. Mainly for me, my convo partners have no problem.
I have had correspondents before, writer types who could play the game, lobbing ideas into my court and setting up for my replies, knowing I would make them move to stay in play.
It helps me as a writer to have some outlet to write to other than my work-in-progress. It cleans out the brain ducts to flow out for fun the stuff that doesn't fit into the WIP.
You can talk sexy (man or woman, if you dare and are good at it, ) or practical or stream of consciousness, I'm good at all, just don't be boring.
And if its just emails, you can be whoever you want to be and I'll play.
Thursday, July 21, 2016
I'm feeling feminine today. Not that I don't always, but today I feel it more. Good meditation, shifting cyclical hormones, a quiet week and suddenly I have an urge to pretty up. Not FOR anybody, just because.
I feel delicate, happy, quiet, calm, loving, wanting to share, open to intimacy, strong, vibrant, sexy, and not in an intense rush, but in a gentle warmth.
I want to cuddle and talk...with someone! Not with myself in my head! I want to cook someone dinner, make love to them and fall asleep touching.
I want to wear the sheerest cotton bit of a sundress and walk in the cooling evening, feeling the air on my skin, feeling the air moving the fabric against me and away like caresses.
I want to be silly and playful, submissive and teasing, warm and open.
I want to hunt you with my teases, attract you with my retreat, feed on you with my desire.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
I don't know why I want to be published by EJ...maybe because I like reading it? I try, and get rejected repeatedly, yet remain mostly unfazed. I like my thoughts and words. That should be enough, and usually is.
Dear Chloe,Thanks for putting yourself out there. This is interesting but I'm not getting much of a cohesive story or message---you seem to be bouncing from topic to topic. I'm not sure what your examples are intended to illustrate. Is there a way that you can pare it down and clarify your message? Keep it simple, focus on one thesis and it will be more accessible to our audience.We’re not here to change your fundamental message (usually)—we are here to make sure your message can connect.Please send your revision in this same thread when you're ready. If we don’t reply to that within a week, you might need to find a new angle/subject.With thanks for your effort and heart—Yours in the vision of Enlightened Society,Renee
Me to Renee..
Yes...cohesive. Well I'm not, my life is not and that is sort of the point. Graduating, moving out into life without the structure that had held things together for the previous 23 years, and the wide open opportunity isn't cohesive.
Cohesiveness is frequently a symptom of attachment to externally derived patterns, a free mind (and body) will no doubt bounce around a bit in the time after those patterns are no longer enforced.
My life is open moving forward, sexually, literarily, yet the vestiges of old patterns still color it. That is the point.
If it is too obscure for you and your readers, if I am not writing to a plot, but just letting thoughts find words and that is not enough...no apologies.
It is enough for me and is how I write. An audience isn't as important. Maybe one will come, maybe not.
Thanks for your comments and taking the time to read me.
Sometimes I'm a deviously passive aggressive little bitch aren't I.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Thursday, February 25, 2016
I moved to Barcelona after graduation. I'd never been there before, didn't know anyone there, and didn't really have a firm goal. I just wanted to plop my butt down somewhere completely outside my safe places.
Barcelona is one of the worlds cool cities, vibrant culture, amazing architecture, and a welcoming atmosphere for ex-pats.
Love that! Ex-pats.. the implications of the word... ex patriated.. removed from home.. the mystery... why..?
I was sick of school. Not that I don't severely need more education! But how I get educated...shouldn't be so dreary, so tedious, boring, and really so much an exercise in conforming to thought and conclusions reached by people who are now tucked safely into tenure and self validated wisdom. ( you know I'm taking about you JT, if you would ever deign to read what I write without judgement of the minor aspects of my writing that are not....conforming!)
I wanted danger, to move way outside my comfortable and into a challenge, but a safe one alas. Barcelona is safe. Well except for the pickpockets and the men with the intense eyes who challenge what used to be called a womans virtue... :)
I arrived on Aer Lingus, after a layover in Dublin, at about 8pm in the evening with no reservations for the night, no local contacts and 49.99 lbs of suitcase and 20 more of backpack.
The RENFE train got me he into the city center a little after 9. Instead of looking for a hotel, I ducked into the first place I saw that looked like a glass of wine was what they wanted to make sure I had before anything else.
For a Napa valley girl, dirty, tired and exhilarated, my priorities were straight. Wine. Then some tapas or Pintxos, and maybe later....sleep and a wash, but only if the night had no other promise.
Lugging a suitcase into restaurants actually is a really good tactic, it lets people know just who I was and wasn't. I didn't finish the first glass of a really nice red house wine before a guy was at my side being friendly. Of course that sort of thing can go either way, but he wasn't a single predator (darn?) and invited me to a table of other people who wanted to keep their own night interesting by grilling a new arrival.
I ended up on the couch in the flat of a couple of german girls who thought California was some magical place inhabited by cool people. Who'd a thought just being from Cali was an entrée to the cool circle internationally!
And then, friend of an acquaintance of a friend, and a few days later, I had a room with a couple in El Raval. Carrer de la Paloma, 11, 08001 Barcelona, Spain
Gotta love people!
I'm home in Yountville with my Dad for a couple more weeks, then back to the adventure.
I'm so tempted to take a ferry down to north Africa...it's a direct connection from Barcelona to Tangier Morocco...35 hours!..but worry the later day Barbary Pirates or some such horrors await. I'll save that for a group outing..
I can easily hop up to France, six and a half hours to Paris, a couple hours to Perpignan across the border.
But what have I really been doing there? Walking around. Eating too much. Drinking too much. Reading a lot. And just getting comfortable. Oh yea...writing a bit, my real reason to distance myself from the known.
I'm thinking of shipping my mountain bike over...but I'm up 4 floors and don't have a safe place to lock it up without carrying it up!_______________________________________________________________________
What a change from California where there is not much that is over a couple hundred years old, and most is boxes built for economy, embellished only with cheap flourishes to mimic architectural styles.
Architecture is the art of accommodating people in and around buildings. It can be beautiful or utilitarian, fanciful or horrid. It effects how people feel about a place, and the identity they generate for a it.
Language has similar influences.
Barcelona is profoundly shaped by both.
Gaudi and catalan, (and the associated lust for independence from Spain).
More reports sporadically....