A gift from Paris opened a world of art

I love art; however, I don’t consider myself to be artistic.  My parents like art and I remember being taken to museums and concerts when I was very young.  I whined because it was boring and I was tired, I wasn’t always very interested, but you have no idea how thankful I am to my parents for dragging me to each one of those concerts and museums.  I particularly remember a guitar and flute concert that my dad took me to when I was about 9, I was so unhappy and bored, I really wanted to leave.

Now, as a mother, I’ve realized that children can only get to appreciate, and eventually like, what they are exposed to.  Given all the technology around us (PSP, DS, iPad, phones, etc.) and the budget cuts for the arts, it is more important than ever to expose kids to the arts.

A few years ago, when my kids were about 5 and 3 years old, my brother and his wife brought them a gift from Paris:  A children’s book about Vincent Van Gogh.  For about a year I didn’t even open the book, until one day, I decided we were going to read it.  We could have read another “Dora the Explorer” book, but instead, we read about Van Gogh.  Half-way through the book (parts of the story are not that child-friendly) my son asked:  “Is it almost over?”  I interpreted the question as lack of interest, so I replied:  “Don’t worry, just a few more pages.”  He, in turn said:  “No, I don’t want it to be over.”  What a relief!  Needless to say that the following day I ordered that entire collection on Amazon (only a few more artists), and found another children’s book collection about artists.  We now have about 25 artist books at home, from Michelangelo to Andy Warhol.  They love reading their stories (including the failed relationships, sickness, deaths, and harsh conditions).  They are familiar with Edward Hopper, Marc Chagall, Mary Cassatt, Henri Matisse, Salvador Dali, René Magritte, Alexander Calder and many more.  So now, when we go to museums, they recognize many of the pieces, it has put all these artists and styles into context.  About 3 years ago before a trip to Montreal I remember telling them:  “Guess what?  You’re going to see a real Picasso in the Montreal Museum of Fine Art.”  They were so excited to see a Picasso in person!  They still get tired after walking for a while and they still complain, but the experience of going to a museum or gallery, any experience related to art, is different now that they have learned about the lives of these incredible artists. 

It is very similar with classical music.  I love classical music.  I remember my older brother loved it when I was very young, but I never really listened to it until I was much older.  I particularly like Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Mozart and Schubert.  Once again, I’m no expert, I only recognize a few pieces, but I enjoy listening to it.  I started playing some of my favorite concertos at home and always listened to the classical music station in the car.  I was expecting my kids to complain and ask me to change it, but they didn’t.  We started reading about various composers (same book series as the artists) and we try to go to concerts as much as we can.  I’m delighted that they truly enjoy classical music, even though now, in the car, we alternate with hip hop and rap (that’s their influence on me). 

Art is easier to see around us, in movies, commercials, advertisements, etc.  However, classical music is different.  If we don’t play it at home, it is very unlikely that they will hear it in other places.  Such a shame that incredible composers who wrote beautiful music are not being introduced to our younger generations, and, for that matter to people my age. 

It is up to us to expose our children to the arts.  It enriches our lives, and I hope they will treasure it forever.

My love affair with a city

This is how it all started.  In March of 2010 I travelled to Madrid.  I was supposed to go in February, but, as it usually happens in our office (I have a business with my brother), as soon as one of us plans a trip, clients call.  And being self-employed, I find it very hard to say no to a client, particularly during tough times.  So I ended up travelling in March, alone, that was the whole idea, to travel alone.  I chose Madrid because after spending only one night there a few years ago during a trip to Barcelona, I liked the city and always wanted to go back.  Thought it was a good destination for me, there’s plenty of culture, not too big, beautiful architecture, night life, delicious food and wine and the idea that Spaniards are hospitable (and good looking!).  So I embarked in this mini-adventure, 4 days in Madrid.  Started doing some research, also trying to find people I knew, or friends of friends.  A total of 4 contacts were established, however no concrete plans were made.  Had a hotel reservation and that was it. 

Here are the stories of the 3 characters in this trip: 

First character – the childhood friend:  A guy (I guess I should say man) who I knew back in Colombia when we were 9, our mothers went to school together and remain friends.  The two of us had corresponded via Facebook a couple of times (after not being in contact for over 25 yrs), and had not seen each other in 29 yrs, so we were never really friends, although he clearly remembers me when I was 9 as being his “first love.”  Well, we exchanged BBMs and when I got to Madrid wrote to him, he told me he would pick me up at 2pm to go to lunch.  I took a shower and passed out on my bed for a great 2-hour nap.  He picked me up, 29 years later, there we were.  He took me to a place in which we had to go down a few stairs, it was packed.  It was chilly outside, everyone having lunch inside, smoking like crazy, drinking wine.  I thought it would take forever to get a table, but after inhaling a cortado (macchiato) which I very much needed, we got a table.  All the other people around us who were waiting before us started joking, I guessed he had connections, and I’m happy to report that, after my latest trip to Madrid (I’m actually on the plane back now), which is my third trip this year, I also have connections in Lateral!!!!  Back to this reunion, first bottle of wine down, no food yet, jet lag and one cortado in my system, we talked and talked and talked.  Having the connection of childhood, Colombia, our mothers, both of us divorced and with kids, all this made it easy to just talk.  Then, some tapas, more wine, and more amazing conversation, like two great friends, like we had never lost contact.  What an incredible afternoon, suddenly, I look out the window, and it was dark, and I said “I wanted to go to a museum” and my friend replied “the museums will be there tomorrow.”  Very true, this was the perfect afternoon, even though he started receiving calls from everyone as he had already committed to other plans, well, he got in trouble later that night.  But for those 6 hours, 2 and a half bottles of Rioja and many wonderful stories, life stood still and reminded both of us of the special bond that we have and which we will nourish for years to come.

Second character – the new friend:  A Spaniard friend of my good friend in Miami.  She had met him through friends… some sort of story.  She put us in contact and we emailed a few times before the trip.  On Wednesday morning before travelling, I received an email from him saying that the sun had finally come out (it had been raining), and that he had plans for me on Friday night, Saturday and Sunday.  I didn’t understand, thought it was very nice of him, but we had never met, so I wasn’t sure about these plans.  On Thursday, in between wines I wrote to him saying that I was free later (he had nothing planned for me that night).  I wanted to go out, it was a combination of excitement, the cold air, the wine, and my childhood friend needed to get back to his life.  So this “new” friend wrote back saying that he was free for dinner at about 10:30 pm, “of course” I replied “would love to, I’m on vacation.”  Went to the hotel, took a shower and started feeling the wine in my system (I don’t drink much), but a plan was a plan.  He picked me up and we went to dinner.  Another bottle of wine, great conversation (I love the Spanish accent), delicious food (I vividly remember the tomato salad with ventresca, although I just wanted the tomatoes, I can still taste them).  After dinner, Bar Tomate (funny, now that I think about it, appropriate name given how much I liked the tomatoes at dinner), fun place, cool people.  Then, to end my first night in Madrid, walked to the car (it felt amazing breathing the cold air, invigorating!!) and drove to a night club.  Great way to finish that very long day, some dancing until past 4am.  What can I say, the entire day was perfect.  The story with my “new” friend continues, but let me first introduce the other character chronologically, and then I’ll get back to him.

Third character – my girlfriend from the summer or 1992:  We had lost contact and somehow discovered that she had moved to Madrid.  Met for a drink after over 15 years, it was great seeing her again and meeting her boyfriend.  After a few drinks, went to their apartment and then down to a little local place for some of the best seafood I’ve ever had.  I have to admit that I was a bit overdressed for the place, and somewhat worried about staining my “rabbit” jacket, which survived the night.  Standing up drinking beer, eating olives (the pits you throw on the floor, with any used napkins), oysters, gambas, boquerones and a few more things I don’t remember….all absolutely delicious.  It was an early night (for Madrid standards), as I had been “scheduled”, by my “new” friend, for a trip to the outskirts of Madrid on Saturday.

I was told that I would be picked up at 10am, that’s all, no idea what the plan was.  It was 4 of us in the car, a guy in his late 20’s who my friend didn’t know but was asked to give him a ride, a very nice and fun woman our age, and the two of us.  Two-hour ride to a country house in Trujillo.  Beautiful landscape, great to get away from the city.  We get to the house and I realize that it was a birthday celebration of the mother of my friend’s friend.  She had invited a few of her friends, and, in turn, my “new” friend had invited me.  There were about 50 people in this beautiful old stone house with a courtyard, pool, olive grove and amazing views.  There was a stork (with nest) on the “campanario”, quite a sight.  Suddenly, I realize that I’m the only person not wearing dark green, or anything remotely close to a “country or hunting outfit,” which made me feel a bit self-conscious, but, luckily, I can just say that I’m from Colombia, as if that was a justification.  Next time I’ll make sure to pack something green!!!  Lunch in this old room with stone curved ceilings was incredible, and suddenly this man takes out his cello and starts playing classical music, I couldn’t believe my luck.  It was magical, being in this beautiful place in Spain, with people I didn’t know, eating amazing food, drinking delicious wine and listening to classical music, I just said to myself “this is what life is all about, thank you, thank you!!!!”  I looked at my “new” friend and, with my eyes, tried to convey this feeling of gratitude for having brought me to this unforgettable event.  After walking through the olive groves and watching the sunset, we headed back to Madrid, first stopping in Trujillo.  What a beautiful town.  It was nighttime, the moon and stars shining, very cold air, and children playing futbol in the square, another magical moment, absolutely magical.  I would breathe the cold air and feel something happening in me, an appreciation for the small things in life, the things that actually matter.  I felt I was truly on vacation, and I felt the need to start doing this more often, of bringing my kids.  I felt recharged, I felt alive, at ease and happy.  Once again, I can only thank my “new” friend for that perfect and memorable Saturday.

On Sunday, I did some sightseeing, the “musts” in Madrid.  The more I walked, the more I liked the city. The skies (bluer than any other sky, not one cloud), the buildings, the streets, the air.  For some odd reason, I feel at home walking the streets of Madrid.  This was the beginning of my love story with this marvelous city.  A perfect trip, mostly unplanned, full of surprises, old friends, new friends.  A trip that changed my life in ways that are hard to explain, in ways most will never understand.  Borrowing a line from a great movie, it is my turn to tell a city, not a person “This is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”