travelling in the city, working, living

 Weather report. Grey sky, temperature down.

My need to travel is there. I try to remind myself I have decided to do it according to a plan. I am going to do it when the time comes. Like a small child I am impatient. Slow down kid, you will get your sweet sooner or later.

These days teaching takes part of my time and I enjoy it more than I thought. The more you do it, the more you relax and give out your true self. I am lost in the stories of the past, the anecdotes of art history, I try to make my class interesting and not dry. They seem to like it. At least I like it. I'm so greatful for that chance I got!

I'm also a volunteer in a gallery. It's not easy being a volunteer anymore. But... It keeps me busy. It gets me out of the house. But... I need the money. But... I can't work for free. But... I can't use all that knowledge and time and not expect something in return! All the "but s" are there. I try not to moan. Everything is my choice. I know my worth and I'll do it for as long as I please.

There is no internet in the gallery. So I sit down and write my book. Listen to music. Not many visitors yet, so I get a lot of time alone.

For the last couple of weeks I take care of a stray. He is very much like Freeda. Black with white toes and chest. He is young but a giant. Every morning he welcomes us in the park and they play like dogs do. I'm so glad Freeda has a friend! The rest of the dogs do not play, they are just strays, afraid of people, afraid of other dogs... but he is different, a sweetie, a real getleman. I hope I find him a home so I get the chance to see him every once in a while. Otherwise he might just dissappear and I will not know where he went. For the time being, I take care of him and I feed him.

My days are fine, busy and wonderful.

travellerlina revisited

When my teacher, Jonah, told me three years ago that my purpose in life is to be a traveller, I took the term "traveller" quite literally. For two years I named a blog travellerlina and set out to travel literally, no matter what the cost.

I did not hear my frends' voices who were saying that there is another meaning to travelling: travel gracefully through the coincidences and the deeds of life in a more general way.

Three years later, I come to consider and reconsider "travellerlina" the difficult name I have chosen for myself and no one can pronounce properly!

We are - I am - in constant movement. Life drives us here and there, we "travel" through the days and the months and the years... Whether we like it or not, we are not the same; moment after moment. Whether we get on a plane to fly somewhere or just day-dream looking at the ceiling, we are still on the move.

I still don't know what that teacher meant and I don't know whether I'll ever get the true meaning of his words. The one thing I have gained, though, is that I see eveything I do, every choice I make through the "travel" prism.

I always have my camera at hand. I am an eternal "tourist-traveller". In awe of my neighborhood. In awe of my city. I try to see everything as fresh and new as I would a foreign country. And believe me, there is beauty in the city I once thought as boring and ugly. I used to go through Athens trying to see it as a tourist would. And it gave me nice litte surprises always.

We are all travellers through life. So we may as well enjoy the process!

the day tears stopped

And then the sun is up again.
You've cried so much you can't cry anymore.
You can't do anything but smile.

the day tears came

A few months ago I wrote this post and felt like reading it once more.

Today is a difficult day. A day of crying. A day of looking back. A wonderful sunny day filled with anger and tears. It might be the stars above. It might be my period. Whatever it is, I feel like shit.

 I guess this too, will pass.

Can I dedicate this day to moaning?
Am I allowed to cry because I don't see light?
Six months without a job.
One tiny job - the art history job - with it's only prospect being fininshed in a month because of lack of interest.

Where the fuck is my laughter today? Where the fuck is my strength? Where the fuck are my dreams and imagination?

It's all because of expectations. I had many expectations and they are all crumbling down. Today. I was expecting to get a job, to be payed for my fucking knowledge. But I am a coward. It's too scary to be paid for what you know. There is a little devil inside who says I can't make money for something I like doing. I was expecting to be independent, do as I please. Get a bloody driver's licence.

There are so many people out there these days who feel the same. Am I picking up on the feelings of mass consciousness? Am I picking the saddness and despair?

Expectations are the worst thing that can happen to you. You attach on your expectations and when they don't get fullfilled, you dispair.

Who bloody cares?

Here I am. Moaning publicly. I could stay silent, don't expose my hurt feelings. Think this too shall pass. But this is me. Don't read if you don't want to. I cannot be constantly happy. Tears are on cue for everyone. At some point.

I'll go walk my dog. Sit on a bench and think.
Hope your day is better than mine today.

...

I do owe the readers an update on my teaching.

It went really well. I was very nervous, but I liked talking to the people, disscussing with them. My chosen subject was the portrayal of women through the centuries. I found this amazing video on youtube and we kicked off from there. It was interesting to know the students, all five of them. aged from 33 to 85. My class should have at least 8 people to continue, so October will be spent waiting to see if more people will come.

However, I have decided to have fun while it lasts. At the end of this month I will also teach the children. It will hopefully be another happy and creative experience.

I don't feel very creative these days either. This seems to be one of these weeks where "the wave" as I like to call it, wants you to sit down and do nothing.

So I'll sit and do nothing and still enjoy it!