ON MY WAY home from the orthodontist this evening, I was elated to discover that sand sculptor Paul Blane’s last Last Supper was not in actuality his LAST Last Supper. He’s back on the beach here in Fuengirola creating another meal for Semana Santa. And I hope this one is also not his last. I’ll be back with more photos later in the week. I’m guessing Paul will have this year’s creation completed by Maundy Thursday in time to commemorate that other Last Supper.
EN MI CAMINO a casa del ortodoncista esta tarde, me alegré al descubrir que la última Última Cena de Paul Blane, el escultor de arena, no fue en realidad su ÚLTIMA Última Cena. Él está de vuelta en la playa aquí en Fuengirola creando otra comida para Semana Santa. Y espero que éste tampoco sea el último. Volveré con más fotos más adelante en la semana. Supongo que Paul tendrá la creación de este año completada por el Jueves Santo a tiempo para conmemorar la Última Cena oficial
La versión español está después de la versión inglés.
Lately, our local sand sculptures haven’t really excited me, and I was just Wednesday morning thinking about how much I’ve missed Paul Blane. He lives nearby and, during our first few years in Fuengirola, I could find him on the beach most days creating exceptional works of art (click here). He’s got the perfect combination of skill, talent, creativity, intelligence, and wit.
Paul has been busy with other things these couple of years and I had thought of writing him this week. So, what a great surprise to be out for a walk and come upon Paul creating something for Christmas. He may only be available temporarily but he brightened up my week. He’s still applying the finishing touches. So I’ll be back.
Ultimamente, nuestras esculturas de arena locales realmente no me han emocionado, y el miércoles por la mañana estaba pensando en lo mucho que extrañaba a Paul Blane. Él vive cerca y, durante nuestros primeros años en Fuengirola, lo pude encontrar en la playa casi todos los días creando maravillosas obras de arte. (haz clic aquí). Él tiene la combinación perfecta de habilidad, talento, creatividad, inteligencia, e ingenio.
Paul ha estado ocupado con otras cosas estos dos años y había pensado escribirle esta semana. Entonces, qué gran sorpresa salir de paseo y encontrar a Paul creando algo para la Navidad. Puede que solo esté disponible temporalmente pero alegró mi semana. Él todavía está aplicando los toques finales. Así que volveré.
I had my regular psychiatrist appointment yesterday. It’s not much more than a “med check” to ensure all is well. All is not well with one of my two meds, which I’ve been on for most of the 4-1/2 years we’ve been in Spain. I’ve noticed I’m experiencing some side-effects in recent months. Really very minor, but enough for us to make a change. So, I’m phasing off this one and will probably try something new soon.
(Click any image to make the trails — all bird prints — more clear.)
My visit was a revelation (I’d say Epiphany, but that was Wednesday). I can now easily speak with my psychiatrist, in Spanish, on any subject.
A WALK ON THE BEACH.
During our brief conversation, as I answered a question, it dawned on me that despite all the bumps in the road it turns out my life is the kind of life I fantasized about as a child. My sister Dale had the same kinds of childhood fantasies and, although her life was filled with bumps and only lasted 29 years, I think a lot of her fantasies came true, as well.
We both imagined lives different from most of our friends and family (not better, just different). We both imagined foreign lands, foreign loves. Dale traveled the world, married young, and lived in England with her foreign prince.
I met San Geraldo from South Dakota (even more foreign to a New Yorker than someone from England). We moved often, constantly re-imagining our lives. And now we’ve made a foreign land our home — and no longer foreign. And we’re still constantly re-imagining our lives.
The psychiatrist asked me if I felt that Dale was traveling with me through life. Without hesitation, I said, “Absolutely.”
I was never a fan of author Louis L’Amour, but I like this:
“No memory is ever alone;
it’s at the end of a trail of memories,
a dozen trails that each have their own associations.”