Returning to Ireland after 2 months in Spain feels like coming up for air. I realize that I’ve been underwater on a rollercoaster for two months. As I arrive in Dublin I feel like I can glide along the streets, above ground, making my way, knowing where I’m going and how to get there – even when I don’t. There is a different magic that happens in Dublin – this mystic place full of old friends and those yet to be met.

The magic in Spain is more mercurial, the air is denser, I drop into a different level of consciousness. It is enchanting. It’s like I’ve been gone for a while. Is it really the volcanoes and the Mediterranean, or just a series of uber intense experiences: a month long residency in the volcanoes from where no voice message would record; a dance festival of amazing proportions taking over the whole town indoors and outdoors, I only saw 30 some dance pieces in 4 days; a 5 day dance lab with artists from 16 countries in Barcelona.

Intensivo. Muy muchos intensivo. Calore y caliente. Emocionante y sensacione.

What would happen if I spent more time there? On first trips there I felt vulnerable. I didn’t like that I had to be careful of my bag all the time; that I was approached and propositioned in the street all the time. Then I toughened. I liked knowing where I was going, how to handle the city.

This trip my phone got stolen, out of my pocket on the metro. My knee gave out (temporarily), I missed a flight. I wasn’t ready to leave. I needed to be in the moment, immobile.