Bloodbound

There is a very thin line between romantic and friendly love. Both are embedded in a space of reciprokal appreciation wherin things just happen. Things that would not happen when someone is alone. Loving actively is cultivating this space by being present in it. Exploring it together. Feeding it. A spiritual dance in a small protected paradise. Without taking notice of it's limitations. That way, none exist.

Logroño 2011. My final destination before home. I feel isolated at first, but the embracing warmth of the group opens me within a day. Out of the travellers mood into a more together state of mind. Wine. Lots of excellent headache free Rioja. Friends. Eight in number. We have delicious food, the house is tidy and we have daily living room concerts far better than the average campfire tune. An organically working whole.

Alejandro and I go way back, to the time when he spoke spanish only. That's twenty four years ago. Dealing with similar challenges, heaving similar hopes, we've become classmates in the eternal school of life. He used to be the impersonation of living chaos. Inseparable from his sisters guidance. An appearance that has become slightly more organized, but his tendency to fly remains joyfully present close to the centre of his being. A vagabond, deliciously charming ladykiller and a great musician. When I look him in the eyes, I know that things are exactly as they should be. I love his insecurities about life and the universe. He wants to know, and through that he discovers many of lifes mysteries.

His brother Jorge is quite different. More expressively soft and cute. More held back and shy, but more determined in a parental way. They share their musical skills and touch.

Nick and I envy that. The amazing concerts they have been giving this week are perfect illustrations of the reason why he and I have been hesitating to pick up instruments of any kind, particularly here. Nick is more of a progressive type with a lot of persuasive power because his ideas are good and he knows how to stand for them. He's taking an increasing place in society, but he remains as laid back as he wants to be. He was in the magical high school class of my neighbour and ex-girlfriend Karin. To quote him: "Nickie, ja? Connecting people."

We reach the monastery by car. Walk from here. We leave the road uphill. I go first. I feel like I'm leading a pack of nomads, asking the spirits of the forest to let us through and to guide us. Pines protect us, rocks lift our steps. We go quickly and quietly. No complaints. We hold, drink and go on. Leaders take turns.

Humming bells of sheep. The volume rises slowly with our step by step approaching of the herd. The sound holds our minds captured in the silence of the forest. As we enter the herd, we feel how our presence disturbs one or two of the sheep. The contrast between their movements and the bells of the other sheep reveals how without us existed a magical pond of harmonious rythmical coherence. We all feel it, no one speaks a word. As we proceed, the volume goes down again until we can not even hear it whisper far away. Hidden deep inside the memory a friendly fellowship on its way to the top.