Cordoba

I was excited to be in Cordoba. The big attraction is the Mezquita, a huge mosque that began modestly but then was expanded 5 or 6 times to many times its original size, and then turned into a cathedral. The structure and look of the place is unique: it has doubled red and yellow brick arches, with supporting (Roman?) columns arranged like trees in an orchard: at least 7 across and many, many down, creating barrel vaults.  In the middle is a baroque cathedral that seems to take up about 15% of the space. I am making up these numbers, but that is how I remember it. It is an immense space, cool and with an acoustic quality that turns all sounds into quiet murmurs-- absorptive and echoey at the same time. We were chased out before mass began, and I stopped in the lovely courtyard with its fountain, tall cypresses, ancient twisted olives, jasmine...and the sound of water and its dancing reflections on the vines climbing the walls.

any bar in Spain

 Of course the building is surrounded by souvenir shops, but I eventually wound my way back to a neighborhood, found apricots and yogurt and some terrible cookies for breakfast... found a bar with excellent cafe latte,

The real reason I was excited was that I had two separate sets of internet friends whom I had never met in the flesh, but had dates with in Cordoba. One was the Cordoba group of Urban Sketchers, and the other was a man, a civil engineer, I had done some language exchange work with; he was trying to learn English, and I, Spanish. Sorry to say, neither of us really worked at it seriously; but he was a Cordoba friend.

These turned out to make all the difference for this part of the trip: though I had some straight tourist time on my own, I had companions for several meals, and someone to draw and chat with, someone else to walk around and learn the city, seeing it through a native's eyes, meeting his friends, talking, eating, and drinking-- why do I never do this in the US when it is so much fun? People seem to live outside, which is very conducive to socializing. On my street in Charlottesville, people seem to be inside most of the time, and may greet each other but it seems hard to be part of a cohesive neighborhood. Is it that cars expand the geographical ring of friends? parents see other parents? Americans are more generally distrustful and even fearful of strangers, especially ones that are different? One approaches social events with work friends with a certain reserve? I am less shy when I know it doesn't really matter if I make a faux pas? Regardless, I had a blast with these acquaintances, and we are all still in touch, so it must have been all good.

Plaza Tendrillas

Alvaro's sketch

my version: didn't quite hang together

I was to meet the Cordoba sketchers at Plaza Tendrillas, so I went early and feasted on a roasted red pepper salad and fried sardines in the sunshine, listening to a guitarist and drawing the Plaza. I was perfectly happy in that moment-- who could ask for more? I sat on the hot, hot stone fountain waiting and was quickly found by Issa and Alvaro: We had a drink and talked; Issa had to go back to work but Alvaro and I went to the Mezquita to sketch. Below is his sketch, including a little portrait of me. Alvaro really knows how to use minimal lines and use color to great effect: I could learn a lot from him. In fact, I did learn: to keep a little sketchbook for 20 second ultra quick sketches, that capture the motion of a scene, and to have a waterbrush with intense color, not water. We talked about drawing and art, and color and form and all that. You can see a tiny self-portrait of Alvaro at the bottom of my sketch below. Wonderful afternoon.
The days are long, with dinner at ten, and darkness a little later; a second day awaited.


Just a sidenote: every day when I wake up, sit up, put my feet on the ground and stand up, it is a little thrill: I can do it! Thank you to every person who cared for me, prayed for me, thought about me but didn't get around to doing anything overt, thought, 'whew, got rid of her', visited, chauffeured me . . . each one of you helped to put me back on my feet. I appreciate the value of     every day and the gifts and challenges it brings.