Welcome to my Sunday eve setup. White wine fresh raspberries a house smelling of brownies chocolate everywhere. Fueled up on the same thing that brings me down in the morning, making me get out of bed with a body sore from dancing. Valencia has turned into a festival and the highs are real. So are the lows. The ups and downs, ebbs and flows.
I’ve been running on little sleep because my life here happens at night. Every time the sun sets magic happens. And with magic I mean concerts. This brings me back to when I worked at AB in Brussels and saw live music eight days a week. After living in New Zealand and the whole covid chapter you have no idea how good it feels to be living in music venues and sweaty mosh pits again. I mean of course you know. You know how we all went from zero to a hundred and going to festivals and parties and having covid left right and center and we’re like this is life right now.
How grateful I am that this is life right now. The music part. The freedom part. The dancing in the streets and celebrating self expression. The dressing up with your bestie getting ready for pride sticking plastic diamonds on your face while singing along to Ginuwine's Pony. You know. What life is all about.
I’ve been missing that deliciously ridiculous side of life. The frivolous, the whimsical, while the world is on fire and the shit that’s happening gets crazier every single day. I feel myself holding on to frivolity as a way to navigate these highs and lows. That’s why my entire body is beating with excitement for next week’s Nowhere festival, the Spanish regional burn in the desert.
Oh! To build an effigy, admire it, then burn it while dancing around it with no clothes on. My idea of a good time. The entire thing: the week spent in the desert going off on adventures day and night, the people on their own journey all together. The gathering of creatives, the joy, the madness, the magic. The coming home.