Stopping for a few minutes after a busy, busy day... the last pupil, one of the very, very few that I wish sometimes didn't turn up, didn't. Mixed blessing: I need the money. I love this guitar teaching thing, it is only very occasionally that I dread a lesson. This was one. Tired. Then I remember the chains of dreams that I was having last night, in which I was, again, back in Venezuela, trapped in different (and in a couple of cases, interesting) ways, unable to come back to the UK and my 'normal' life.
A building of glass and metal and red clay, in which I start by looking for my friends and then realise I'm lost and cannot find my way out. Will miss my flight back to London. It is, on the other hand, a beautiful, almost infinitely complex building (how can one dream of something and see it and make it up as enormously complex?).
Waves from my now distant land break against the waterline on the edge of my waking life, perhaps I long for that land more than I'm aware. If it is so, it is a waste of time, of course: the time I lived in Venezuela is gone. Much of it was sad, miserable and wasted as I searched more or less in the dark to try and find myself, build myself from scratch from the intense, creative but also scared, shy, ignorant kid that I used to be.
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