Waiting By The Sea

A photo of me taken by my friend, Sarah Allen, on Salt Spring Island. Post production done by me.

Friday's Photowalk

All photography by Shehani Kay. Taken along the streets and alleys that run parallel to Main between 48th and 26th ave.

Metro Stories: cussing out the bullies

* Warning: there's bad language and swear words in two languages in this post. For those with delicate and refined sensibilities, perhaps you'll want to avert your eyes and skip this post.

Since I moved to Spain I have often fantasized about what it would be like to tell someone off on the metro who is being an asshole. The language barrier really inhibits me all the time. Joder (fuck), mierda (shit), gilipollas (stupid asshole), puta (slut), and cabrón (motherfucker) just don't flow off the tongue in a natural way for me. I'm always left eating my words and seething in silence. Only recently have I decided to allow myself to swear and make sarcastic remarks in English, just to let off some steam. I mutter things like, fuck, jesus fucking christ, what the fuck? and "sure, why don't you take your sweet fucking time" and "yup, in the middle of foot traffic is a really great fucking place to stop". Still, I haven't become so bitter as to push people out of my way like some other folks. These bullies will shove you, step on you, yell at you and in general be complete fuckwits. Because I don't speak enough Spanish to give them a coherent piece of my mind, I'm often left feeling frustrated and impotent.

Well on Wednesday I finally got my chance to speak up. I was coming home on a very crowded metro and when the doors opened at Lavapies station a lot of people were trying to get out. There was this British brute who grunted "move it" and began pushing behind me to get all of us out the door faster. As soon as I heard English, I went into instinct mode and so I turned around and said, "Will you stop fucking pushing?!" I could see my admonishment trigger a look of surprise at being called out in his mother tongue and then a flash of anger ignited in his blue eyes. His fleshy face reddened. "Then move faster!" he retorted, to which I replied, "We're moving as fast as we can!" He snorted and said, "Yeah right." So I shook my head and said, "You're a fucking twat!" as I walked off the metro carriage. He went ballistic behind me and began screaming, "Come say that to my face you cunt.." etc. But I kept on walking calmly away and I soon lost him in the crowd. He was freaking out so much, people turned around to look to see what was happening! The Bulldog was bellowing out in what sounded like a battle cry. "Arrrggghhh!!" Que fuerte! My heart thumped hard in my chest as visions of him chasing me down and beating on me crossed my mind but I shook that fear off and kept on walking up the escalators, out the door and into the lively, people filled streets of my barrio.

The thing is, if it had been a Spanish gilipollas or even a Morrocan cabrón, I wouldn't have worried that he'd get violent on me. We'd just heatedly exchange swears and cusses, gilipollas and putas. However, the threat of violence felt very much more probable with the British bulldog. Perhaps it's because British friends of mine have often regaled me with horrible stories of bloody bar fights that bubble up from nowhere in the UK. Why is it that beneath the thin, flimsy veil of respectability, stiff upper lip and civility there lies a barbaric violent streak in the breast of the British bloke?

Photography by Shehani Kay. Original street art found near Metro Puerta del Angel

The Open Door

The hobbit-size storage room door on my floor was opened for visitors so I took the opportunity to snap a photo. There's something other worldly, mysterious and tantalizing about this open door. Who knows what visions of Cthulhu lie down the corridor and behind the little doors... what secret gardens and Narnias hide from our view.

This is a followup to the Fifth Floor series of photos I took back in March.

Photography by Shehani Kay

This one is for the birds

A charred and weather beaten apartment building facade near San Bernardo Metro seems to be a favoured spot for the numerous local birds that line the balcony railings.

Photography by Shehani Kay

No Doll Left Behind

Photography by Shehani Kay

Madrid's Ghost Station: Metro Chamberí

I first discovered Madrid's ghost station as a fleeting vision while I was riding the Metro. I only caught a glimpse of a darkened station, gorgeous tiled adverts and the red diamond sign of Chamberí for a few seconds while the train was whizzing along on Line 1, but I was intrigued.

Chamberí used to be a Metro station on Line 1, between Bilbao and Iglesia. The station, part of the first subway line in Madrid running from Cuatro Caminos to Puerta del Sol, was inaugurated on October 17th, 1919. In May 1966, during work to extend the platform, the Ministry of Public Works discovered that since the station was built on a curve, it'd be too difficult to modify it to accommodate the longer six carriage trains, so they decided to close down the station. Since Chamberi was placed very close to Bilbao and Iglesia this wasn't an inconvenience to anybody.

"They simply switched off the lights and closed the entrance. Everything was left as it was on that last day, even the used tickets and newspapers. It was like this for more than forty years," explains my friend, Dario, a Madrileño. "It became a legend with children (and not so young people) travelling on this line. From time to time, some TV programs would talk about this 'ghost station', and some of them were allowed to enter the place and shoot images of this dusty time machine. In the nineties, the place became a target for adventurers and, unfortunately, some hooligans too. The remains of the station quickly became more and more damaged, until finally the authorities decided to restore it and convert the old station into a museum."

Despite losing its mystery and charming decay since the restoration in 2006, the station still manages to retain a ghostly vibe, especially when you hear the echoed high-pitch song of the train approaching the platform. For those who enjoy the beauty of old subway stations, tiled adverts and a little history, this abandoned Metro stop turned museum is a delightful place to let your imagination wander back to a time long gone.

Andén Cero (Platform Zero), Chamberí Metro Station is open Mondays to Fridays from 11:00 to 19:00 and Saturdays, Sundays and holidays from 10:00 to 14:00. The nearest metros are Bilbao, Iglesia, Alonzo Martínez and Ruben Dario. Entry is FREE.

A Saturday Afternoon Stroll ~ an art date with myself.

I began with the "Guardianes" sculptures by Xavier Mascaró on Paseo del Prado. I love the way everyone has a peek up the flute to see if he's hiding anything up there.

Then I walked across the street. These are photos of the kind of truck used in the rescue of Spain's cultural treasures, the priceless works of art that were in the Prado Museum, during the civil war. Arte Salvado is an outdoor exhibition that celebrates the 70th anniversary of this rescue, which was coordinated by the "International Committee for the Rescue of Spanish Art Treasures". Arte Salvado recreates the events and problems that occurred when several museums in Europe united to save the works they considered to be a fundamental part of humanity's cultural heritage. The black and white photo in the center is an archival photo of one of the truck used in the rescue mission.

Next stop, the Caixa Forum. Fortunately, my timing was good so when I entered just after Spanish lunch, there wasn't a queue. I went to check out Miquel Barceló's show. If you are in town and haven't yet had a chance to see the show, I highly recommend it. Barceló's prowess in various media is phenomenal. His nocturnal images are like visions of Cthulhu. His film, Paso Doble, a performance of the creation of a large piece, is crazy weird and brilliant. All the rooms feature a different aspect of his work, each impressive on their own (from water colours of African scenes to pieces of fruit to Pinocchio's skull), but put together this exhibition showcases the genius creativity of a master artist.

Above is the staircase of Caixa Forum, up and down. In the center are photos of a view out of the grated window on the top floor and Barceló's Elephant in front of the building.

Other people's children. There were so many kids running around so I decided to take some candids of them. The top 2 were taken in the large gallery room on the bottom floor. I wondered if there was a pijo memo sent out to all the parents requiring their little girls wear the combination of white tights and black Mary Janes. Ha ha. Seriously, I love how timeless, classic and darling these children look. The bottom 2 photos are reflections I took of 3 gabby girlfriends on a window in the lobby of Caixa Forum. The little girl's face in the photo on the right reminds me of a Renaissance painting. Qué bonita.

Dos caras de una Mujer. On the way home, I saw this mannequin in a shop window and had to take her photo.

As I was walking down my street, I felt better than I have in a long time. I figure, I'm a pretty good date. Me and myself, we like the same things, we walk at the same pace and we have the same taste. So I'm going to make this habit and take myself out more often and enjoy the time I have left on this leg of my journey. Best of all, this entire art stroll didn't cost a thing. Madrid is full of free art shows, you only need to look.

Reflecting on something shiny

Reflections on the sliver sculpture that sits between Torre Picasso and Ahorro Corporacion in Madrid. For those not in the know, this is the hub of Madrid's financial district. Until 2007, Torre Picasso (designed by Minoru Yamasaki) with its 51 floors was Madrid's tallest building. Nowadays this honour goes to the infamous four towers, which do a superb job of scratching the skyline.

I know, I know, I've had a fetish for reflections lately... but they are so much fun to play with.

All photography by Shehani Kay

a blacksmith, brew and spirit

Detail of window display + reflection: La Fontana de Oro on Calle de la Victoria, 1 in Madrid.

This Guinness Official Irish pub, which serves a variety of Irish beer and spirits, is housed in one of the oldest taverns in Madrid. Legend has it that this pub may also be home to spirits of a more elusive nature than whiskey. The decor is mix of antique dark wood, Celtic flourishes, medieval doodads, dusty bottles, pool table, barrels and a dangling disco ball.

In the past the tavern has been a hotspot for Spanish intellectuals and the Spanish writer, Benito Perez Galdós (1843- 1920) was even inspired to set his first novel (La Fontana de Oro) in this pub.

Photography by Shehani Kay. Scratchy texture by les brumes

I need a hero

Click on the image to enlarge.

Original mash up (photography, compilation, digital manipulation and narrative) by Shehani Kay. Inspired by original street art on the wall of Doctor Fourquet in Lavapies, Madrid, by various street artists: Saner, Parsec, E1000ink, Ruina, Sakristan, Pincho, kid chalao, Jaime, Neko, Dier, Ring, Seon, Alberto de Pedro, suso33, vhs (kid chalao, fragil & e1000ink). Thanks to Dug for helping out with the list of credits.

Going from top left across and then down:
a1 & a2: (grupo) parsec; a3: dier; a4: e1000ink; b1: dier & ?; b2 & 3:?; c1-3:saner; d1: suso33; d2: vhs; d3: e1000ink; d4: vhs; e1-3: vhs

The ? indicates that I'm sure of the artist's name but he's one of the artists listed above. If you can identify him, please comment and let me know.

Note to the urban artists:
I love making mash ups of found street art because it imposes limits and a framework. I can't just draw whatever I need to move along my narrative. I have to work within the confines of what I have photographed and what the artists have drawn. Doing this challenges my skills, creativity and imagination as a storyteller and weaver of narratives. The images are like a puzzle and I have to figure out how to piece together a tale. To those whose works I compile, rearrange and manipulate, I hope you understand that I do it with the highest respect for your art. Your work inspires me to invent stories! Thank you.

Photos from the wall:

You can see more photos of the original wall here and here.

Behind the wall is a public place where the group "Operarios del Espacio Público” in collaboration with many area neighbors have been developing a garden called "Esta es una plaza". The potential green space is open to the neighborhood. The space fosters meetings between different generations and cultures in an attempt to enhance local resources and weave relationships between the residents.

All photography by Shehani Kay

Sometimes I crave a little colour...

An original mash up (digital manipulation, text, and photography) by Shehani Kay; based on a mix of street art found on a wall on Calle de Torrecilla del Leal in Lavapies, Madrid. The plant is the work of Planton Kracia and I've been told that Ring painted the yellow blob.

A Friday Night in Madrid

Photography by Shehani Kay

My latest experiments working with textures and mood.

Fearless Failing

Mash up (digital manipulation, text, and photography) by Shehani Kay, based on an original mural by Pajaro found on a wall on Calle Caramuel near metro Puerta de Angel, Madrid

It appears I have failed. I conjured no ghosts, invoked no spirits of any measure. I failed to achieve what I hoped I already had. He told me this, my critic, in a public forum* and so mortified, I dug into my repertoire of quotes and pulled out 3 nuggets from the late, Randy Pausch's last lecture: "your critics are the ones who still love you and care," " Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted," and "don't bail; the best gold is at the bottom of barrels of crap." I brewed a tea from these words and drank it slowly, letting the steam unfurl and dissipate into the air. Then I had a soothing second cup with a quote from Ken Robinson's lecture on creativity:

"...kids will take a chance. If they don't know, they'll have a go. Am I right? They're not frightened of being wrong. Now, I don't mean to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is, if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original... And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity. They have become frightened of being wrong. And we run our companies like this, by the way. We stigmatize mistakes. And we're now running national education systems where mistakes are the worst thing you can make. And the result is that we are educating people out of their creative capacities."

Drinking in the words of others who have gone before me is a fortifying tonic, a tincture against the virus of defeat. This morning, I feel renewed. So, fearlessly fail, I say. Never lose that childlike wonder. Never give up. Creating is playing, playing with ideas, tools, mud and whatever happens to be handy. Sometimes, you hit upon something singular and it resonates, more often you don't. The important thing is to fearlessly CREATE regardless of the results and hope that there will indeed be gold at the bottom of these many barrels of crap. And to remember well that our greatest opus lies in how we choose to shape our lives.

peace

* I, of course, deleted his stronger comments because while 'nays' may be helpful for improving your art, bad reviews need not be pinned to your computer monitor as a mocking daily reminder of your failures.

Dance For Me - The Dancing's on the Wall.

Original photography, compilation, digital manipulation and narrative by Shehani Kay. Mashup inspired by original street art by ADW in Vera Playa, Almería, Spain. You can see the original wall here. And for those of you paying attention, I did similar narrative mashups here and here.

Another birthday... no more tears!

In the past, I used to cry every birthday for one reason or another like some cursed sad sack. This year I had a party and I didn't cry. In fact, I was surrounded by friends and wine and laughter. I successfully cooked my first tortilla de patata and it made me feel confident in my ability to do new things. I don't know where life is taking me but I know I can both relax into the flow and navigate, exploring the many tributaries that branch off the main river of life. Age gives you this: a knowledge and confidence in your beautiful self that during the frenzied blindness of your youth, you failed to see. So cheers to getting older and hopefully wiser.

Emerging

Getting beyond the boxes. Out of chaos and uncertainty emerges the face of a clearer self.

Photography by me. Another experiment in textures, tone and meaning.

Patience

All good things come to those who wait with patience, right? Deep breath. In. Out.

On days when the sun refuses to shine

Photography and collage by me.

I recently listened to an audiobook by Alain de Botton called How Proust can change your Life. This clever man has brilliantly distilled Proust for those of us not ready to wade though the 7 volumes and millions of words in In Search of Lost Time. Proust has a great many insights into human nature and how to live. Botton's audiobook has inspired me to one day delve into Proust first hand. For now, let me share with you a few quotes by Proust that I found helpful on days when the sun refuses to shine.

"Happiness is good for the body, but it is grief which develops the strengths of the mind."

"We cannot be taught wisdom, we have to discover it for ourselves by a journey which no one can undertake for us, an effort which no one can spare us."

"The moral: to recognize that our best chance at contentment is by taking up the wisdom offered to us in coded form through our coughs, allergies, social gaffes and emotional betrayals, and to avoid the ingratitude of those who blame the peas, the bores and the weather."

"The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes but in having new eyes."

Portrait of a room: retro american kitsch with a twist

[click on the image to see it enlarged]

Photos and collage by me.

It's not every day I walk into a room decorated in classic 50s-70s Americana. What an unexpected surprise to happen upon in Madrid. It's a lucky thing I have my camera on me. Nicolas blames his fetish for American memorabilia on the influence of American TV in his youth, shows like Starsky and Hutch, which explains all those posters and the model car from the series. Although license plates from almost every state, posters of Elvis, Elvis theme Russian dolls, and stacks of cds of rock 'n' roll from the 50s line his walls and shelves, Nicolas insists he's NOT a fan of the USA. He just loves the music from this period and has been collecting this retro Americana for years. (an aside: this is an apparent contradiction I've noticed a lot in Spain. While folks here are often too happy to poo poo the Americans, they sure love American movies, tv shows, music, etc...)

In the corner of his room, there is a lovely old double bass, which fits in with the 50s theme but in fact plays more classical than classic rockabilly. Nicolas, who grew up in Buenos Aires, Argentina, tells us a beautiful little story about the journey of his double bass. His instrument is originally from Madrid and was one of the secondary instruments belonging to a fairly well-known double bassist. This musician brought his collection of double basses with him from Madrid to Buenos Aires when he moved there decades ago. When he died, his daughter sold his double basses at auction and Nicolas bought the one you can see in the photo. When Nicolas relocated to Madrid a few years ago, his double bass came with him and, in a way, his bass was able to return to its homeland to begin a new life with a young classically trained contrabassist. This isn't quite the story of the Red Violin, but for me, this serendipitous journey half way around the world and then back again infuses the non-matching tuners, the sensuously scrolled head and the curvaceous dark wooden body of this upright bass, with character and soul. And I admit, I sometimes enjoy the personification of inanimate objects because it allows me to see the inner beauty of a thing shining through its casing and what I might otherwise have overlooked as ordinary becomes instead illuminated by the firelight of stories. A beauty to behold, a spark for my imagination and a flicker upon which to daydream.


I found this room intriguingly and deliciously disorienting. Thanks to Nicolas, for letting me take photos and share his room on my blog.