Lost: on a Painted Sky

When photographing clouds, it's inevitable that birds will sometimes fly into the shot - or be there, unnoticed, until closer inspection of the images during the editing process.


Upon seeing my cloud images containing birds, I instantly thought of Neil Diamond's song "Be" which starts with:

Lost
On a painted sky
Where the clouds are hung
For the poet's eye
You may find him
If
You may find him....

Of course, that led me to missing my vinyl recording of Neil Diamond's beautiful soundtrack for the movie Jonathan Livingstone Seagull which is somewhere in my parents' basement in New Zealand!

That got me thinking even further back to when I bought my little copy of Richard Bach's book - Jonathan Livingstone Seagull - and, at the tender age of 12, read it at least 3 times in a row, and once a month after that for the next year. I couldn't get enough of it.

The search for perfection of flight by a little seagull, who knew that he was destined for things other than being part of a flock constantly squabbling for food, appealed to my Virgo mindset! An outcast who didn't give up; whose constant efforts were recognised and rewarded by further lessons from seagulls who had already achieved nirvana; who returned to his flock in a state of forgiveness to teach other seagulls what he had learned.

It's a story about: never giving up to reach that perfect goal; earned respect; unequivocal forgiveness and abundant love.

Everyone has to read this book at least once in their lives. It's still in print today, after first being published 39 years ago in 1970. Let it become part of every school's reading curriculum for kids in the 13-15 age bracket, and give every kid their own personal copy to keep.

Here's my pictorial homage to Jonathan, and his determination to never give up in the search for perfection, while still enjoying the ride:

Also, here's a Youtube version of Neil's beautiful song, Be.



May we all find some perfection in a less than perfect world.

Clouds over Barcelona

I don't fail to fall more in love with Barcelona with each day that we are here. The weather is great, the people friendly, and we have a wonderful apartment within 5 minutes walk to the beach. J and I feel at home here.

I'm fascinated by the amazing cloud formations and the variety of clouds that we see over the city - on the days when the sky isn't a clear blue dome. I can now see where painters get their inspiration from - especially Michelangelo's clouds that he painted on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in the Vatican City. Of all the cities and countries that we have visited or lived in, Barcelona would have the best cloud exhibition!

I've put together a slideshow of some of the images that I've taken of clouds over Barcelona.

Enjoy!

Tour de France

The Tour de France became the Tour de França as it passed through Cataluña last week. On Thursday, the riders cycled down the coast from Girona to Barcelona. Of course, the only very rainy day that we have had all summer was that Thursday, and it was so heavy in the morning that I doubted that I was going to be able to take any photos. The tour battled the rain and winds before, thankfully, the weather cleared as they entered the city.

As some of the route wasn't far from our apartment, we couldn't miss the opportunity to see the race pass metres in front of us, instead of watching it on TV as we've done in past years. We caught the T4 tram down to Carrer Wellington and stood on a corner between the Arc de Triumf and Estacio França.

First through was the sponsors' wacky parade. We hadn't seen this part before, and were soon collecting hats, pens and all sorts of goodies as they were thrown from the weird assortment of vehicles.

Click on the images to enlarge

J was able to track the race on her phone's internet connection, so we learned that the peloton had been broken up by a crash on a roundabout about 5km from our vantage point.

First through was Scotsman David Millar (who lives in Girona), although he was caught by the peloton just 1600 metres from the finish line.


The peloton came through very fast and there was barely enough time to fire off a few shots before they were gone.


After the peloton came the riders who had been caught up in the crash, some bearing new wounds on arms and legs.

Shimano's Cyril Lemoine shows off his bloody knee

Euskatel's Koldo Fernandez has a new dressing on his upper left arm as he's followed by a team support car

Cervélo's Heinrich Hussler had a better day yesterday and won Stage 13 - his first ever stage win

Hussler's team-mate #2 Inigo Cuesta was also down the back

Some of the final riders come through in a small, battered and bedraggled group

We were thrilled to have our first live Tour de France experience. An American architect, resident in Barcelona, was standing beside us for the event. He has followed several tours and recommended that we also see a climbing stage as he reckons that visually, they are the best. Maybe we'll do that next year!

Report on Stage 6 from Girona to Barcelona can be found on the Tour de France website.

Hugh Masekela live in Mataró

Whilst out Nordic walking along the waterfront near our apartment, we go past several advertising pillars adorned with posters advertising upcoming events in and around Barcelona.

One of them happened to catch my eye as I recognised a familiar name to our household. Under the 6 headline acts ran a couple of small lines with the name of other musicians who were playing at the Cruïlla de Cultures 2009 Festival of Music. Hugh Masekela's name was the second on the first line.

Excitedly, I pointed his name out to J who, as a longtime fan of Masekela's, immediately looked up the concert details when we got home.

The concert was July 10th in Mataró. We had to look up Google Maps to see where that was! It turns out to be a town further up the coast from Barcelona, and only 4 stops away from our nearest railway station. The most difficult part was returning home, as the trains would have stopped by the time the concert was over, and only hourly night buses would be running.

We took the chance. After coming home and drying off after watching a wet Tour de France go through the city, we hopped on the train and headed for Mataró, passing through seaside towns with great beaches and large marinas.

Arriving and with map in hand, we walked about 1.5kms from the station to the venue, through shopping and residential areas before crossing a major road into a light industrial zone. Just as we were beginning to think that we had made a wrong turn, we came across the venue.

Sala Clap has been in operation for 16 years and is an institution for nightlife in the region. We approached the ticket seller at the door and asked if we had the right venue for Hugh Masekela. Upon confirmation, we paid for our tickets and headed back out to the bar next door for a quick beer and something to eat before the concert started at 9pm. The hamburgers - long bread roll with some sort of processed meat pattie - were not what hamburgers usually look like, but they were ok and cheap, as was the Estrella Damm beer.

9pm, and we wandered back into Sala Clap, buying a couple of beers which cost us more than the beers and burgers at the bar next door. Ouch! Why do venues do this? If the prices were lower, they would surely sell more. During the whole concert, we saw more people not drinking than those who bought anything - it was too expensive at €4 per beer.

The opening act was Raynald Colom. An acclaimed trumpet player, Raynald was born in France but has lived most of his life in Cataluña.


He and his group performed an accomplished and polished set that, to our ears, was perhaps lacking a bit of soul and grit. Still, it was great to hear some local musicians - our first taste of this since coming to live here.


Hugh Masekela was next, and we welcomed him onto the stage with rapturous applause. I could see his bass player staring out into the venue and shaking his head in disbelief. I felt for them, because a quick scan of the venue revealed less than 100 people in the audience. For a man like Hugh, packing out Carnegie Hall in NYC and sold-out concerts to 75,000 people back in South Africa are not uncommon.


Yet, he got on with it - playing his flügelhorn with practised ease; eking the best out of the shining instrument and playing his signature notes which sent thrills running through us. J was spellbound. She couldn't believe that we were listening to and seeing her idol, and that we were standing less than 5 meters from the stage.


The septuagenarian blew the horn, bopped his body, drummed a cowbell, shook his cabaça and poured his heart into every song. Old familiars such as "Bring him back Home" (anthem for Nelson Mandela) and "Stimela" (Coal Train) sang out as true as any of his recordings - even better as we could see him as well as listen.


Nearly 2 hours later, Hugh and his band left the stage. Despite lengthy clapping, calls for more, and whistles from the small, yet fully engaged crowd, an encore wasn't given. However, we left the venue on a high, J still unable to believe that we had seen Hugh Masekela - and for only €19 per ticket.

Hurrying back to the train station, we caught the bus (the N82) back to Barcelona and were safely home by 2am.

After me seeing a longtime favourite Cesária Évora (the barefoot diva) in Melbourne last year, J has now also seen one of hers. As a plus, through our research we have discovered that J and Hugh share the same birthday and Cesária's is one day after mine. We're happy peoples!