Study days

“Guess where I am?” my friend texted me the other day, “Hint: the security was even more displeased with my computer case than was TSA”.

The Reina Sofia library, part of the famous Spanish modern art museum by the same name, is a truly lovely library. One of my very favorites, in fact. It’s dead silent, warm, and always full of exceptionally studious art history enthusiasts. I’ve never seen so many well-lit books. They have, however, a seemingly extreme security prerogative. You are required to show a government issued ID just to get in— I get by with my (expired) California drivers license, but the production of an unrecognized ID often prompts a re-reading of the rule book— and then you are asked to take only your study materials into the library proper, leaving your coat and bag in lockers by the front desk. While you are allowed to leave the library for a quick smoke or cup of coffee during your time, you will ONLY be given your jacket and bag back when you decide to leave the library for good. Bringing any type of food into the library is forbidden, of course, (this, amusingly enough, leads to the smuggling of small food items, ie nuts, dried fruit, power bars… which are then eaten in the sanctuary of the bathroom. I am NOT the only one…) but even water bottles are prohibited. Despite these uncomfortable measures, however, it really is a great place to study, and I spend almost every Friday there.

This past Friday, as I was packing my things back into my bag in preparation to leave, I managed to forget my computer charger. I only discovered my mistake once I had arrived home, just minutes from the library’s closing time, so I hurriedly called the front desk to explain my situation. Yes, they had my charger, they told me, and I could come pick it up on Monday. This morning, then, I walked into the library around opening time and revealed myself to be the girl who had left her computer charger. Perhaps you can imagine, now, the security excitement that surrounded my trying to get it back. It was a good thirty minutes of phone calls and radio conversations between the various officials, a trip to what I can only imagine is their underground lost and found vault, and at least three separate ID checks. It’s even possible that they’re learning how to spell “Tajha”. For all this, though, I can assuredly say that my computer charger has never been so well guarded in its life. If it weren’t such a hassle to get things back, I’d consider keeping more of my belongings at the Reina Sofia library…

On love, and art

Personally, I am a huge fan of Valentines Day. It may even be one of my favorite holidays… a viewpoint that elicits various criticisms. Some find that Valentines day is too commercialized, just an excuse for the sale of Hallmark cards (sure, I agree…), but most rest their displeasure in it being a “couples” holiday and, well, they just happen to find themselves single. I’d be lying if I professed not to understand this criticism either. Yes! I want to be able to say ‘I love you’, in person, to my valentine. Of course! I see happy couples walking down the street and wish I could slip my hand into (that) someone else’s as well. Truthfully though, I wish this on most days of the year.

In any case, I like Valentines Day for at least one very simple reason: I love making Valentines cards. A leftover favorite from my elementary school days, it seems there’s just something special about cutting hearts out of red construction paper. I love running down to the corner store to buy paper, ribbons, and stickers. I love heading home, with a big grin on my face, to spend the next couple hours covering the room and myself in glitter, glue, and infuriatingly small pieces of paper. I love carefully designing a unique card for each one of my loved ones and scribbling cryptic notes on the back. Quite frankly, it’s one of the most important creative functions of my year.

And when I’m making those cards and thinking about the smiles that will accompany their receipt, it doesn’t matter to me in the slightest that on the actual day I’ll find myself reading various works of philosophy while listening to the man at the next table sing along to the vaguely romantic music playing in my favorite neighborhood café (Wilson Philips, anyone?). In fact, the option of curling up with my valentine being off the table for now, there is hardly any place I’d rather be.

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

poco a poco

Maybe some of you remember how, when you were young, family friends who you only saw at sporadic intervals would tend to remark on "how much you've grown!". If you remember this than you may also remember looking down at yourself, not unhappy with the assessment, but finding that you could not comment personally on its veracity. You LIVED with you, day after day, and so growth was next to impossible to notice.

The same can be said of any personal developments, really. Take for example my growing capacity to speak the Spanish language. I met up with a Spanish friend a couple days ago, one who I had not seen in three or four months, and while I thought that our conversation got off to a rocky start (he spoke with the rapidity and colloquial vocabulary that is expected of a 20 year old boy... but that made comprehension a bit more difficult for me), it wasn't long before he commented on how much my Spanish had improved.
"Really!?" I said, a touch incredulously, but still not without certain pride,
"Yeah," he replied, "you can really understand me now, and it shows in our conversation".
I couldn't have been happier to hear that.

I think it's normal to struggle in recognizing your own growth. And it's more normal yet to feel that there's still such a long way to go. So when you get too caught up in these frustrations, remember to find a friend who can remind you just how far you've come!