The first time I went to Sitges, I ate an unseasonal chicken-mango salad, in spring. I met a Mexican girl who shared the meal with me because we were the only two non-Catalan speakers in the Romantic Museum Can Llopis. The luxury that alone-travel afforded me was these meetings with strangers. Conversations were free of judgement and surprisingly intimate. Easy, because these were almost like false memories: they had definitive and controlled ends. Unlike real life, where I have to deal with criticism and large legged elephants.
Far from the romanticism of travel, I am writing this on May 23rd, 2017. This is also known as the day when I was banned from talking to my nephew. Here’s hoping by the time I publish the post, we would have come out of this comatose state. Like all normal people, I have often fought with my sister. The stakes have never been so serious though. Now for each hour that my nephew doesn’t see me, I feel scared that he will forget me. It makes me sick.
The key reason this time was criticism about my five-minute video. Just like conversations about salads or art, I find it easy to take criticism from strangers. Either I decide that it doesn’t matter or if it’s about my work, I take it objectively because, I have no feelings associated with strangers. With family, criticism is like a needle prick. I know that they’re perhaps the only ones who will care enough to state the truth, but I also expect puppy support.
I wish I had the superpower to draw out my anger instead of saying things I regret minutes later. Maybe there’s a good way to say, ‘your video truly sucks but I love you,’ to your sister. Maybe one day we’ll all draw elephants with extra long legs, because why not?
And, till such time as that, maybe we’ll all stay inspired by Dali,
“The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant” ~Salvador Dali