Flashbacks 2024/2025, Reijer staats

Scribbles from Granada

Observing, chewing, being touched, writing, and laughing at what appears on the paper! Occasionally, the beautiful surroundings inspire me to write a few personal rhyming lines. Here, I’m happy to share five scribbles from the past year.

The photo shows a mural in Granada of Federico García Lorca, with his mouth covered by black tape and a defiant look. He has black hair and intense eyes. The mural is located on a wall at the corner of a street in the Albaicín neighborhood.

Power

We were in need of some city vibes and inspiration. And a Moroccan pastela from Panadería María. So, Granada... vamos!

Under the fresh spring sun, a new mural of Lorca caught my attention. A poet and playwright, born in Granada, who used his words to highlight social issues. His voice was silenced, but his message lives on.

A scribble appeared on paper:

His eyes fille with resistance

And his words shut down

What do we see? A parallel?

That runs from past to now

The move away from demonizing

To its po-la-ri-ty

Goes over a path of critical thinking

And heartfelt empathy

In the photo, I’m standing on the balcony with a coffee in hand and my face in the sun. A dog is sitting on the couch in front of me. I’m looking out over the residential area in Almuñécar, with the sea in the background.

Woke

Returning from vacation with the flu and an ear infection, I read about the Spanish Civil War in the novel "Land of Echoes," and watch all the news on TV... and ohhhh! What is happening in the world?

I wrote something rhyming about it:

A stuffy nose, gaze turned within

Fever set me clear...

From all the know-itall nonsense

And the self-righteous clashes near

I yawn - a pop! - the pressure breaks

In sunshine´s warmth I soak

Two guys hold hands along the shore

Glad to be back and woke

he photo shows a typical Andalusian double door in a soft bluish-grey color, with a subtle door handle. Above the door is the number 23 in Arabic script, and next to the door hangs a slate plaque with its name

I take it at my own pace

Healing. For me, it’s the interplay between the mind, heart, and gut, where emotions hide behind a gate that haven’t been fully felt yet. When you gently open the gate and let the emotions be, space is created for softness.

After a conversation with a friend about the loss of my mother, I wrote this poem:

Eyes down towards my gut

Ay! The tension shows!

A stone of old emotions

In wonder I approach

A door - I open it wide

Something pushes through with force

It´s quickly closed, but I know now:

What´s hard will soften on its course

A full moon rises as the sun sets at the same time. Someone takes a photo from a high lifeguard chair, overlooking the sea and the hills of the coast during the golden hour

It´s about the journey, not the destination

In our first year of emigration, I wrote about "the warmest welcoming smile..." Every now and then, we still keep in touch via text. "You are in my heart," I read. And while gazing at the sunset, this poem came to life:

How are you doing?

My anwser: think I´m fine

I know something is missing

Not sure where to look this time

You will find it, without a doubt!

The words wrap around me tight

Warmed, I walk my path

All feels right! I see the light