Calm and Patience

Slowly, it seems to be happening. Not sure entirely when that sensation came, perhaps it was against Sevilla in the Cup, perhaps against Sevilla in the league or perhaps it was against Zaragoza last week. Barcelona won a very difficult game away from home, where Diego Milito missed a penalty, Barça were handed a goal and a penalty. The luck of the Champions? Hmmm, still remains to be seen.
The Celtic game was the first game in I don´t know how long that Barça, my team came from behind to win a game. Suddenly there was spirit, team effort, sacrification, hugnger.

It could well be that the egos have had enough and have finally realised that it is not that funny that people laugh or spit in your face. I hope that they have decided to pull themselves out of the mess they got themselves in to. During the game against Celtic, I had a strong feeling, that we would win, you could see the hunger in the players eyes, it was not the same complacent gaze since Paris 2006. Yes almost two years.
Today, I decided not to go to the stadium in order to paint (as you know my schedule is fierce and hard), but I did go to the bar to watch the game. Xavi scored, then Zambrotta in one of his moods committed an extremely stupid penalty and it was 1-1. No - I never had a doubt, we would win this, it was just going to be like that. I also said to my dad that Madrid would loose or draw. The words of a witch.
Monday is looming and 9 points became six, then eight, then five and now two...
Let´s not forget however that the future is just starting, not just for myself, but for this team. Let´s forget about Mourinho, Ronaldinho and Benzema. The hard work has just began. Just began.

My Life

This is what I ideally want. Perhaps utopic, but I want to continue my working pattern from December, before I went to Iceland.
In Spain I am finding people talking too much, no space for silence, something extremely important. I almost long for the autistic long dark winters, like the ones in Iceland now, where you can hardly leave the house.
I am still looking for the place, the place where you go to the sea, the immense overwhelming sea (not the cute Mediterranean) and on a needed day you just stand there, overlooking or not looking or whatever. If you are angry you shout, if you are sad you cry, if you just are, you just are.

Here is my daily schedule -
07.30 - the alarm clock rings
08.00 - i get out of bed
08.05 - i drink a glass of juice
08.15 - i go out on the terrace with my skipping rope to jump
08.25 - have breakfast, read the news online
08.45 - shower
09.00 - study (alternating - watching films, reading on films and working on my own film)
13.00 - Every other day I cook (the other day I study until 14.00)
14.00 - lunch
14.30 - leave home
16.00 - my class starts
19.45 - take the train home
21.00 - have dinner
21.30 - watercolouring

This is Monday to Friday. Sometimes I go to the stadium in the week, sometime I meet up with someone. Max two evenings in the week, preferably one.
Saturday and Sunday -
I can have one day off, the other one is dedicated to watching films, reading, writing and watercolouring.

My Favourite Turks Yoghurt Recipe:

- 1 lt of milk
- a handful of yogurt yeast. another good yogurt would do if you
cannae find yeast.

- bring milk to boil, and let it boil for a while afterwards (say 20 mins)
- when milk has cooled down to a point slightly cooler than a
temperature at which you can bathe a baby in summer (as my granny
would say),
put yogurt yeast in the milk, cover it with a towel (sides and top)
and leave it for a day. dont move it around.
make sure yeast is about the same temp when you put it in. warm it
up slightly for that *before* you put it in.

enjoy.


Ps. This is my plan - not sure if it is realistic.

Image: England (Bridge & Gerrard), down and dirty after falling flat against Croatia.

I believe

It felt like it was going to be one of those nights where all you want to do is scream:
You are idiots.
However, thanks to a goal in the dying minutes (thanks Xavi) - Barcelona do have a more realistic chance to get closer and who knows on top of Madrid.
I felt it was going to be a night of creeping under my blanket in order to dream dreams of the cups: Champions League and the Copa de Rey, but no.
Tomorrow looks slightly brighter than last Monday.
It should wake me up early, early as the day is there to breathe in, breathe in like a crisp cold winter night, when the pinkish light is throwing its light on the mountains (at least in the North). Perhaps I will take my seats off for sale and actually go to the stadium. In the last weeks, I just haven't really had the energy nor the lust to be bored, bored to death, with the pim pam bla bla bla, masturbating indulgent vulgar play of the team.
From now on I will hope to see some soul, some character, some spirit, where nothing is taken for granted nor nothing is thought to be lost, until the end.