My Plate Is Full

  This trip to Barcelona came on the heels of me losing my brother, and worry about my parents.
   So to say it has been wonderful, is not fully true, but it has been a great experience.
 I am convinced the food, is so clean and fresh. Tapas are the norm, so you get to try many things.
 Yesterday we found a bagel-ish place, bar, darling owner, for lunch. He was an engineer, from Slovenia, that decided to change his sails!!
  I had a turkey, cream cheese, dates , avocados and arugula bagel-ish. Each flavor so strong, and one, I probably would not have combined. Bitter arugula and sweet dates, just think on that for a second!! Magic. The chips, had a drizzle of maybe mustard and horseradish on them, very interesting combinations. So I think what I am trying to say, not only is the food fresh it is put together so neatly. I have had eggplant with goat cheese and honey, that would make your eyes roll back in your head!! So many kinds of omelettes, I think the eggs are different over here, one with yellow squash and onions that surprised me. Prawns, fish, crab, pasta, pizza, bread, salads that wake up your taste buds!! Olives by the handfuls, with little olive dishes that I lust after!! Coffee is pumping through my veins, hourly, and maybe Proseco to wash it all down.
   Then you walk hundreds of miles, at least it feels that way, and you eat again!!
My plate has been full of new flavors.
My plate is overflowing with artist and their stories, and Gaudi rules this kingdom.
Picasso I loved, Miro loved more, Mares made me smile, Gaudi not so much.
  I have tried to explain it to my Bill, the husband, that he creeps me out, a little. I know as an architectural artist he put together buildings with a flair, just not my flair. We go to the Parc Guell, on Saturday and maybe I will warm up to him, but he seems large and something!!! I like Frank Lloyd Wright houses, Gaudi is a tad tacky for the party. Even the Sagrada with all its glory, and beauty, left me cold. He is buried there and I paid my respects, but I don't get him, and that is why art is so fun. There is some art for all of us. I am convinced, if I was not before, that all artist seem to be good in many mediums. Fabric, clay, oils, watercolors, whatever is laying in your studio or house. Picasso used fish bones, that he had just picked clean, to do a beautiful clay bowl. Gaudi says the nature guided his genius and madness, Miro used fire and painted on the floor, whatever works. My plate is full.
 People, transportation and weather, perfect.
 Hurricane hitting my beloved Florida panhandle, hurts my core being.
 My plate is full of sorrow, hope for a quick recovery.
One of the six books, I have had the privilege of reading , Becoming Mrs. Lewis by Callahan, reminded me, how full my plate was. C.S. Lewis, his life and stories, and now this one written in first person, from his wife's point of view, just beautiful. I have read all of his books, but I think I shall reread them all. He is wise and I want to listen to him again. When my Ward died, I read his A Grief Observed, with my brother dying, I want some of his guidance again. So now I start my 7th book, on this three week feast to Barcelona.
  We leave on Tuesday, and I will try and squeeze in another blog, no promises.
  I will be thrilled to see my kids and animals, I think I am a born homebody, who has enjoyed some really neat trips seeing the world. France has my heart, but thank you Barcelona.