It's fiesta time in Sitges. Actually, given that this is a tourist town and that the Spanish are really big into fiestas anyway, it *often* seems to be fiesta time in Sitges. This one, like most of the others, is for some saint or another...who can keep track?
But so far one of the good things about living in Sitges and thus in perpetual Fiesta time is the fireworks. This year's show was designed by a fellow named Isidre Panyella, who is considered in Spain not just a technician at what he does, but an artist. After having watched his sky paintings tonight, I now understand why. He made me stand there by the sea among thousands of Spanish locals and tourists and gasp and applaud and cheer and say -- over and over -- a hearty inner Thank You, Thank You to the weirdass Chinese artist, all those centuries ago, who first thought up the idea of using the night sky as his canvas, and painting with fire. I mean, *think* about that guy. Now *he* had "creative intelligence." Fireworks are the ultimate ephemeral artform. They whip past us even faster than Tibetan sand mandalas and Buddhas carved from yak butter melting in the noonday sun. 5-10 seconds, max, and each skyrocket has...uh...shot its wad. But combine each one with a platoon of other sky swimmers, and the final effect is stunning. Me, I -- who really gives a shit, eh? Who *cares* whether it's "me" having a good time or "I" having a good time. When the sky is full of light and so am I/me, I/me don't/ doesn't know about you guys but I'm/he's really into the moment and having a good time with it, not pondering which pronoun is having the better time.
