Blog Post 11.
The Full Moon. Last night, we were treated to another full moon. Yes, that also means it is once again the best time of the year: Scorpio Season. I was running my usual route- between the Atlantic shore and Cádiz’s botanic garden- when I saw the bright and full face of our nearest cosmic neighbor.
Blog Post 10.
Writing a book is difficult.
The thoughts fly around my head, teasing me and evading my every attempt at a good, strong, clear grasp. I see them shimmer right in front of me, get a sense of their shapes. But I can’t hold them in my hand, can’t feel their true forms.
Blog Post 8.
This may not make any sense…
My fundamental understanding of time is slowly (and quickly and all at once and not at all) loosening it’s grip on me.
In my little, windowless room lives a clock. It occupies a space on the shelf and it ticks the seconds into the past very loudly. All over the world, time is being marked off in the same manner, at (almost exactly) the same intervals, by similar apparatuses. An hour in the morning has the same value on a clock as an hour in the evening or an hour spent eating a meal or reading a novel. It’s what we’ve been taught. It’s why we keep clocks running.
Blog Post 5.
Autumn does not exist here. As I start each morning with a run, the temperature creeps into the high 70’s F (mid-upper 20’s C). Tropical light reflects off the ocean. The leaves turn their always-green faces to the sun. This can be a very lovely routine.
And yet, this blog post is entitled “autumn doesn’t exist here” instead of “always summer” or “sunny and 75”. I’ve noticed the absence of what I now know objectively to be my favorite season. Apparently, Fall means more than butternut squash (though butternut squash is arguably one of its most important assets).
Blog Post 3.
Lazy Saturday. Waking up at 10am, running two miles, showering, eating a toast and drinking a coffee then lounging around, looking up flight prices and catching up on US news until lunch (which, by the way, happens at 3pm in Spain). After lunch I’ll probably head to the beach for a few hours. This is a schedule I have never experienced and would never have attempted to experience in the US. As the boats in the bay at La Caleta bobble over the moving tide, I float atop the flow of time, not going anywhere, though it continues to move all around me. This sensation is completely new to me.
Kulani Sol 