I seem to be on a tear: midlining the spine, off the spiral binding of my sketchbooks. It just seems endlessly fascinating to me: book spine; skeletal spine. I am easily amused. (Working over 30 years in a library obviously had its effect.) The last drawing I posted here (a long time ago it seems, we have been on the rails in Spain) was the psoas, facing front. Now I’ve flipped the pelvis. With all the hours we’ve spent, in the last couple of weeks, on plane, bus and train I really feel the piriformis trying to clench, at least that’s what it seems like.
We’ve at last ended up in the small apartment we’re renting for a month in Cádiz. It’s very small, like a tiny trailer on two levels, connected by a spiral metal stair. There’s almost no room to spread out, but there’s a front door for handstand (L and flying — and is it possible to assume the L without thinking of Jonathan?) and there’s just enough room to manage reclining double pigeon, and some back bends. There’s always enough room for a few standing balances.
It’s nice to have a few weeks to establish, before we move on to our next location. It’s funny, we come all this way and then set up more or less the same pattern of living we do at home in Brooklyn: read, hang out, draw (me), take pictures. Except here it mostly takes place in Spanish. The Kindle has made a huge difference in our lifestyle. We used to travel with about half a suitcase of books and dictionaries. I still miss my paper anatomy sources. But part of travel is adjusting and fitting your own patterns into a new framework. Fitting your same old skeleton into new-old (very) city streets and staircases.