Waking up to the sound of so many roosters.
The residency is surrounded by a small village and the families (must) have chickens. It feels like home.
I lay in bed and think about the long journey. After 4000 miles in transit, I was fantasizing about beds. Any kind of bed.
Just, to sleep with the legs stretched out…a blanket to cocoon in…
The fates smiled, as my bedroom here is the ultimate dream nook. White sheets. Windows. Cozy. It even has a bedspread with a delicate lavender pattern.
I think, how can everything be so perfect?
The morning sun is bright as I explore the garden. This place has a FIG TREE, OLIVE TREES and a POMEGRANATE TREE.
The fig tree smells better than the most expensive perfume.
I’ve never seen baby pomegranates. They are so cute.
As it turns out, the residency is women run and there are currently 7 other artists…all women too! They wake up in their preferred ways; with coffee or tea. Some take a morning swim or do yoga. We meet each other and discuss projects before wandering off to read, draw or edit.
And I feel kindred with this group; fellow lovers of travel and art. We discuss herbs in the garden, the most beautiful places in Spain and which art supplies we need to pick up in Seville.
The house in quiet during siesta time (but the chickens are still awake).
I heat water for tea and browse the art books stacked on the shelves. They're mostly in Spanish and I like that. A large map of Andalusia hangs on the wall and I trace my finger along the Mediterranean sea.
There is contentment in simplicity and study. There is magic in creativity.
I’m so happy to be here.