Travel Is Surprise

A great joy of travel is surprise. For instance when I decided I wanted to visit Egypt, it was not long after 911. Several of the terrorists who hijacked the jet planes and flew them into the world trade towers were Egyptian. There was some hysteria about flying in airplanes, let alone going to Egypt. Thoughts came to mind that as an obvious American I might be kidnapped, tortured etc. I decided to go anyway because it is practically the cradle of the world. Surprise! Great kindness and appreciation awaited. Strangers on bicycles would wave as they passed by on the street, shouting in English, “Welcome to Egypt.” Now, when people ask what is my favorite place of all the countries I have traveled, Egypt is with a couple others at the top. I still have friends in Luxor who are like family.

Father and son musicians, Guanajuato City, Mexico

"The Note" 16x12 inches, oil on board

I am at present in Mexico, a country that has had bad publicity up north. President elect Trump has promised to wall off the entire border. Names have been called. Some people, including a Mexican friend, advised not to visit for fear of harm.

In Guanajuato City and now San Miguel De Allende I have met with nothing but warmth, good will and welcome. The cities remind me of Spain, especially Granada where I have lived. People are earthy, and of practical nature. They seem genuinely interested in me, and want me to like their homeland.

In Rio De Janeiro, Brazil, I had the trust and surprise thing going, but several times as I wandered the streets, locals would grab my arm and tell me it was dangerous to walk about as I was. So far in Mexico, at least in the towns I have lived, I can step in THE DREAM safely.

 

 

Typical street, San Miguel De Allende, Mexico

Heart Connected To Place

 

I am among Mexicans now. Each day I walk the cobbled streets and walkways of Guanajuato City where I am living. All manner of people greet me and I find if I make eye contact and smile even a little, a warm acknowledgement occurs with reciprocation.

The narrow passages wind about, and when I stop to buy meat at a carniceria (butcher shop), stop in a farmacia for personal incidentals, buy fruit or vegetables at a stand or pick up bread at a paneria, I get by with the little Spanish I know. If I don't understand the exact amount I owe, I reach in my pocket and pull out my change and they take the coins needed and wave me off with a smile.
Everything is cheaper than in the USA.

Tonight, Saturday, I wandered into the city centre (about a ten minute walk) and found street performers, happy crowds of families, all types of people, and roving groups of singers dressed in spectacular costumes with instruments entertaining groups of spectators, getting them to join in singing familiar songs.

I am quickly coming under the spell of this vibrant city. The quicker I assimilate into the culture, the happier I am. I don't like playing “tourist.”

Today I started a painting of a Mexican man leaning against a wall, wearing a broad brimmed hat, looking down at a paper in his hand. A flower pot with blooming plants is next to him and doorway behind. I have made my kitchen into an impromptu studio—it has a big table, is spacious with large windows lending plenty of light.

I am indulging my passion for street photography. Setting forth walking, sometimes for hours I disappear into the path ahead, rambling, only aware of light, texture, sound, the motions of people and the congruence of forms. It is easy to slip into THE DREAM. I am not aware of myself as separate; I am what I see as boundaries disappear. I enjoy taking my chances with odd pictures and look for poignant fleeting images that come and go quickly.

Sometimes I am surrounded by people with cameras, often smartphones attached to the end of sticks so they can take "selfies." I have no interest in this and I do not try and take great tourist pictures. There are photographers with much better equipment and more camera knowledge than I who will always do better. What I bring is my own way of seeing, and a heart connected to place.

With My Heart Clear

I have a one-way ticket out of the United States. I decided to leave on my daughter Naomi's birthday, January 11. She watches over me from the next world. When I journey, I go without fear and she extends my heart to wonder. With my heart clear, the world opens like a rose.

I have known I would be going south soon, especially to Ecuador and Bolivia. Ecuador is famous for being a destination country for American people seeking comfort, beauty and less expense in living. As for Bolivia—years ago someone told me about a carnival there, full of heart in the poorest country in South America, in a town called Oruro. (See web article) It is a much smaller version of carnival in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, where I went in 2010.

I take my work wherever I go; painting, photographing and writing, and doing some business on the internet.

Two Latin fellows came into my gallery recently and we got to talking, especially about travel. Both men were warm, but Oscar was especially exuberant. He told me about a city in Mexico, Guanajuato City, where artists live amid colorful buildings in the mountains.“I guarantee you would love it!” he exuded. Oscar left me his card and info before leaving, promising to help me if I wanted. It is near another Mexican town that is famous for art and artists: San Miguel De Allende, where I have friends living full time.

After looking it up on YouTube, I could see how I just might love it like Oscar promised. (See pictures) I will go and stay for awhile. After that I will visit San Miguel De Allende and then Ecuador and Bolivia.

I look forward to getting “lost.” Then, I will search for my true brothers and sisters, my mother and father, Naomi and those dearest to my heart. I will seek and find my true family and burst with love when I do.