It was exactly what I never knew I ever needed: four hours, just sitting, in one spot. It was one of those moments you have lived all your life for. It didn’t happen a moment too soon.
With a purposeless afternoon approaching, I wandered through some random streets dripping with graffiti until I saw some square, strewn with some tables, in some part of Barcelona.
I sat down and ordered a glass of wine. I saw the restaurant proprietors carelessly lean with folded arms against the door jams. I gave the wandering toothless violinist a few coins. I listened to the clatter of silverware, the waves of lilting conversations, and a disconcertingly comfortable hum of a buzzsaw in the background.
I ordered another glass of wine. I wrote in my journal trying to catch up on the last week, but instead I wrote of the passing humanity – as I noticed them and they noticed me. The man who kissed his lover in her ass-tight jeans, the homeless man who disappeared into different restaurants and returned to the square adjusting his pants, the little pig-tailed girl dressed all in denim and flying through the square.
The waiter brought me a third glass of wine, accompanied by some ceviche salad and ‘brave potatoes.’ I watched the pigeons dauntlessly buzzing people in the square, and I noticed the light shift into the autumn trees.
Four hours later, I just had to use el bano, so I paid my bill (13€), and left.
I left with a new moment: feeling the peace and meaning of space, around form, in a purposeless afternoon.