far too much writing, far too many photos

runswithscissors


Saturday, December 07, 2002

One of the things I've been enjoying these last few days is seeing what's changed and what appears to have remained the same since my last period of time here. The wall across the street, for example, is always in a state of change and in that way hasn't changed much. Except that the postering hasn't been quite as intense as in the past. Sections of the wall remain uncovered, the fever to keep it completely slathered with posters seems to have abated a bit. That right there is a notable shift.

The wall encloses an empty lot, remarkable in itself considering the population density of this barrio. In the past, the gate located at one end of the lot remained closed and locked. A pallet or two of neatly-piled bricks lay near one wall, a car usually sat parked just within the gate. The lot contains two large sumac trees which provide shade and color in the warm weather, falling leaves in the autumn. The abutting buildings are tan-colored, several stories high, looking down into this plot of undeveloped land. A nice bit of space to have in the middle of the barrio's urban life. At some point during the last four months, one of the two halves of the gate disappeared, leaving the lot open to any and all who cared to wander in. The pallets of bricks are gone, the walls of the surrounding buildings have been graffiti-ized (though, fortunately, no higher than ground level). Occasionally, a drunk wanders in to take a whiz in a corner. Other vehicles now park in there, though no more than one at a time since they're usually left at the entrance, blocking the way for any other vehicles. On the other hand, the sumacs remain, a graceful visual accent I appreciate from my location, one that marks the constant flow of the seasons.

Things change, even those that appear to remain the same.

Around the block from the lot, on the next street over, in amid the high-fashion shoe stores and shops dealing in leather coats and bags, a small sandwich shop I patronize has had a change in ownership. To be more accurate, it's not actually a sandwich shop – they make bocadillos, the local version of subs/heroes, only made on baguetes. The tastiest bocadillos I've found in Madrid. Under the old proprietors, a mother/son team, the sandwiches were excellent but the atmosphere in the place leaned toward the, well, depressing. The TV in the front room, where the small bar/counter is, ran constantly, generally playing game shows. Stacks of supplies almost always sat by the wall under the TV. The back room – half again as large as the small front room, with another television but without windows or wall adornments – felt like a clean, boring dungeon fitted out with tables and chairs.

The current owners appear to be a 30-something couple. The menu remains the same, but the walls are now covered with artwork, mostly pencil drawings of horses along with three or four photos of folks, a watercolor of a small mountain village, and two mirrors advertising liquid refreshment over on the wall near the TV, one for Trina (an intensely sweetened orange drink) that includes a clock and one for Bailey's. A step up, all that, from the previous adonrments, which tended toward the cheerfully tacky, including one truly cheesy small painting of a naked, brown-skinned woman lounging happily and provocatively on a tropical beach.

I picked up two bocadillos when I stopped in three nights back, one chicken, one tortilla with pimiento. Both tasty.

It's a beautiful, sunny Saturday in Madrid, temperature in the 40s F. Many shops closed for the day at 2 p.m., 30 minutes ago, so that the midday activity has downshifted a bit. The streets have become a bit more sedate, the flow of people more relaxed as they window-shop or stand in the plaza (la Plaza de Chueca, just down the block from here) drinking a coffee or a beer, conversing or listening to a band that hit the plaza about ten minutes ago, playing languid, dramatic Mexican numbers.

A good way to pass a long holiday weekend.

rws 8:42 AM [+]
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BLATHERINGS

August 2001
September 2001
October 2001
November 2001
December 2001
January 2002
February 2002
March 2002
April 2002
May 2002
June 2002
July 2002
August 2002
September 2002
October 2002
November 2002
December 2002
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December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
June 2009
July 2009

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MORE FOCUSED BLATHERINGS


Travels:
London '01
Pamplona
Italy '03
U.K. '03
Sevilla
Casablanca
Stoke-on-Trent
Barcelona
Québec/Ottawa
Boston/Lisbon/Madrid
Italy '04
Montréal
La Sierra

Events:
Madrid -- arrival
9/11
Emergency Room I
Holidays 2001
Holidays 2002
Holidays 2003
Holidays 2004
Holidays 2005
A neighbor's passing
Madrid -- March 11 bombings
  and aftermath
Emergency Room II
Israeli friend/Madrid Marathon
Madrid -- Royal Wedding
The DELE exam

GONE, a novel:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10

THE BASTARD CHILDREN OF
JOE ROCCO, a novella:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3

BURBANK SHRUGGED,
a screenplay:
-- Part 1
-- Part 2
-- Part 3
-- Part 4

Short stories:
Murphy's Wife
Another Autumn
La Queja de Una
  Hermanastra Muy Conocida

Autobiography
-- Personal History
-- Hormones On Parade
-- Accidents, Random Mishaps,
    Personal Problems

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OTHER SOURCES OF WHOLESOME ENTERTAINMENT

People/Weblogs:
dooce
foxvox
fudge it
fear not
rebekka
bookslut
802online
idle words
madhaiku
wockerjabby
grow-a-brain
rebel market
letting me be
out and about
kung fu grippe
fanatical apathy
baghdad burning
wfuv's music blog
kexp's music blog
mimi smartypants
between the miles
just a hippie gypsy
the impossible cool
tomato can brushes
vermont homestead
sugar mountain farm

Good Clean Fun:
gizmodo
futurismic
postsecret
dave barry
human clock
mcsweeney's
spaceweather
book-a-minute
internet archive
self-portrait day
my cat hates you
out of context quotes
surrealist compliment
  generator
strindberg and helium

Makin' Musical Whoopee:
last fm
stereo8
pandora
soma fm

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ABOUT RWS/CONTACT





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