Cadaques/ Port Lligat

So the next day I packed up and grabbed a bus to Cadaques. This is the small town that Dali and Gala lived next to in Port Lligat. I got off the bus and started trekking straight to the master's house. I turned the corner of the mountain road and there it was. In plain sight I could see the home adorned in obnoxious white eggs. Not long now. I passed through various twisting village roads at a hurried pace. downhill from here. A couple of times I almost bit the dust as my excitement out paced my feet. Finally there it was. A place I had seen in movies and pictures since I was 16 years old. I was finally here. A place where the greatest art ever was created. I walked up and touched the dwelling. Emotions overwhelmed me. I started sobbing uncontrollably. It was real... the master was a real man and this is where he lived. Another emotion that ran through me was that I was here alone. I had always assumed Stacie would be with me. I always admired the love Dali had for his wife and tried to show my wife the same kind of adoration. Somethings just weren't meant to be I guess. I was not Dali. I am Loveless. It's time to start walking my own path... the path I'm on.

The next day I found an art store and stocked up on canvases. Went back to Dali's house and painted "Tree in a boat" which is right in front of Dali's doorstep. A storm rolled in off of the sea and it became extremely cold. I would make tourists laugh by shaking my brush like it was too cold to paint a straight line. They all laughed... even though we had zero capability of communicating verbally. It's cool how physical humor is universal. I then went back to the hotel room and finished up what I had started by memory. Feeling extremely inspired by being here I then spent several hours on a Dali portrait... I plan on finishing that portrait tonight.

Hola Figueres

Figueres is the boyhood town of Salvador Dali. It is also the place where the Spanish Dali museum is. I took a train ride from Barcelona to Figueres for 7 bucks.
I gave away 3 paintings on the way to the train station because they were a nuisance to carry. I didn't paint anything here because I couldn't find an art store that was open. I only stay one night. Anyhow, the first stop was the Dali museum. If you are coming to Spain to see this... save your money. It is a real let down. It has none of Dali's important pieces. Mostly contains lesser known paintings and his tokens of love to Gala. Also this place was designed and decorated by Dali himself. If I were to say one thing to him while he was alive about the museum... "Don't quit your day job dude." To see his best work go to St. Petersburg, Florida. It will bring you to your knees. I was however inspired to draw a picture of him.

I did go out to a disco and met a brazilian wing-man. We had no luck hooking up with any Chicas but had a great time anyhow. He smoked some hashish with me outside the club. We drank rum and he taught me Spanish all night. When the club closed we went home Brazilian style. I jumped in a shopping cart and he pushed me through the desolate streets as fast and as scary as he could. When it was my turn to push I crashed him into 3 cars and eventually flipped him over on a speed bumped. We laughed and laughed. Funny sometimes how a little booze and a goofy friend can make a lasting memory acting like fools.