Sketchblog:Â Day Books
Another foot in AndalucĂa. It seemed time for some surface anatomy. The foot to ground connection is basic, but moves beyond that in this environment, becoming not only conscious but close to obsessive here in Jerez de la Frontera, with my favorite tiles: dizzying patterns and the late-autumn cold. I live most of my life barefoot, except when we come here every year. And under feet is a challenge for me. My innate sense of balance is skewed. (I guess that makes it not so innate after all.)  Doing tree on his floor in socks is quite challenging for me — well not so bad if I don’t look down. The floor can appear wavy and even to move. Concentration is key.
I generally travel with some small massage balls and I’ve put them down on various sections of the floor to see how much roll really here is. And not nearly as much as I would have thought. Most of the floor can hold the ball quite still. I was surprised. It’s funny how the mind-eye connection can make you feel like you’re tilting. I think of that heard-to-death yoga balance cue: “look at something not moving”. Well if that something is this floor you are in big trouble. “Not moving” is relative.
Speaking of barefeet and the cold floors and sidewalks of AndalucĂa: it’s Zambomba season here (kind of flamenco Christmas). Started yesterday really. Streets were thronged with people last night as my husband and I were off to a flamenco peña. There were some young women dressed up and scampering on the cobblestones ahead of us. They were barefoot — impossibly high-heeled shoes in their hands. The pain in the toes (and maybe even the balance-challenge of the cobbles) won out over the freezing sidewalks. I was glad we were headed to the cozy wooden floor of the peña — flamencos don’t work on tile or stone.