Posted By Raya Yarbrough on July 28, 2011
Our hotel wall in Madrid is wallpapered on the far right side with a giant photograph of the New York skyline, overlaid with the lyrics to “New York, New York.” This is odd for traveling Americans.
In 7 hours we’ll be in NY, with a 7 hour layover ’till we get on our plane to LA. The wallpaper is a reminder that this room marks the end of our Spanish odyssey.
Last night, with the wind of the breath of the new at my back, I entered my first gothic catheral. I, not a Catholic, did not expect to be overtaken, but the Holy Mother…or The Dove…or the soul of an infinity of vespers came to me…and pulled me into a knowingness.
It is alive, you see. This is what they do not tell you.
The arches, white – not like marble, not like, pearl, not like chalk , but for all the world like bones – reach their zenith out of their own volition. They feed off our inspiration, and circulate the light. The architecture is the bones, and we…we…are the holy spirit.
I do not mean this to read as blasphemy, or presumptuous,
this is what came through to me, startling my corneas through the stained glass of Almudena Cathedral.
I take this will me.Gracias España.
And last night, in the Lobby of Hotel Mercure, Madrid, we said goodbye to David (in what I’m sure was his very coolest Superman T-Shirt), Sergio, Óscar, David (de Barcelona),Fernando y Agustin .
No – not goodbye, “Hasta Luego” (see you later), because these 10 days, through this sleepless journey, we have found a family overseas.
Music lovers. Film lovers. Life lovers. Nerds.
We will not allow us to become strangers to each other again. El proximo año.
Rock on, guys.