This weekend Spain celebrated the Three Kings’ holiday with parades across the country, including a massive one here in Barcelona. We knew it was happening, but had no firm plans to check it out.
However, after we had dinner with
, who writes the excellent , he let us know that the parade was coming through San Antoni, the neighborhood adjacent to Poble-sec, which is where we’re staying. We were still out and about so we followed the noise and headed to the parade. And I’m glad we did.It’s difficult to explain what makes Spain feel different, particularly from the perspective of an American. I hope that over time I am able to cobble together experiences and observations that help illustrate something that’s difficult to just sit down, put “pen to paper” and explain. Come here and see how people interact with their city and one another. Do it a few times. Then you'll catch my drift (if you don't already!).
This weekend’s parade is a great example. Young people, old people and everybody in between with the same type of look in their eyes and smile on their faces, all living—and reliving—their childhoods irrespective of their current age. There’s such a feeling of community and excitement in the air that you can’t not be touched by it.
And I was. Plus, I was blown away by the sheer size and scope of the parade. It makes Texas look small. A three-hour journey across Barcelona with spectacular float after float after float and people watching from all sorts of angles.
If you ever have a chance to come here around the holidays, I highly recommend it.
We have only been in Spain for three days. I’m excited to settle into day-to-day life so I can offer my perspective from a different vantage point. Tap the subscribe button above and pick the best option. I appreciate your support of my work, which as I explain today, is my livelihood.
One nice thing about the work I do is that it’s a fluid, ongoing process. As life happens, I make frequent mental and digital notes and take some pictures. Before you know it, I have the pieces of stories that are relatively easy to put together.
Thanks to this process, the actual act of writing rarely takes very long.
In between the notes, ideas, thoughts, premises and images, I intersperse other moving parts, such as research and nods to other writers who inspired me or I borrowed from.
It’s a 24/7 process that’s actually super meticulous in its even flow and organization, even though I rarely sit down to work for more than three hours at a time. So—while I’m always working, I don’t do what feels like actual work for very long. I work in spurts.
As we begin the process of settling in Valencia, Spain this week, the way I structure my work to fit my semi-retired life takes on added importance.
My life provides the notes, ideas, thoughts, premises and images that I turn into stories. And my work is my livelihood.
Which is why I appreciate the support of paid subscribers—monthly, annual and lifetime members.
Which is why it’s important to strike a balance between settling in, establishing a routine, allowing for spontaneity within the rituals of day-to-day life and—as it has to be—earning money. Just as quality of life is greater than the sum of its parts, I view my livelihood as something that’s bigger than merely making money. It includes all of the elements listed in the first paragraph of this sentence and then some.
When Melisse and I walk the streets of cities we visit, we both go through the sometimes subconscious, sometimes top-of-mind motions of envisioning how we could do day-to-day life in the different neighborhoods of a place.