sábado, 28 de abril de 2007

Tripping like an insomnia night

For Easter weekend I went on a trip to Salta and the idea of insomnia came back to my mind. I haven’t had a night of it, but travelling is always like being on that state.
My family tends to travel a lot by car and to do very long trips, so I am accustomed to it; and I like it! I find tripping an interesting way to get out of routine and it has a lot of advantages. In every trip I have time to think, to read (if the road is not too winding), to watch a DVD (if my brothers aren’t using the portable player), to admire some beautiful landscapes…
In my car music is never absent, so when my father puts on a CD I don’t like, I just turn my iPod on and forget about everything. I stop listening to my parents gossips, to their talks and to their problems… I just enter in my own world, where I listen what I like, I think about what I want and no one bothers me. My mind starts flying and goes far, far away and then jumps to another subject, brings back some memories, and inspires me a lot. Trips open my mind, they are just like a night of insomnia. I find this period of time when I am in my own world like a rediscovery. My mind goes wherever and comes back with a lot of new ideas, so I always take notes about them in a notebook I always have near, in order to develop the topic when I reach safe land.
This rediscovery and encounter with a lot of new topics to write about, or ideas to take up in art IB, happens to me in every trip I do. Sometimes more than others, but it always happens – if it is a journey of more than an hour. The difference in this last trip I made to Salta, is that I related it with insomnia. In both I fly with imagination and come back to write an idea, and then I go on flying. I enjoy travelling because I don’t find it a waste of time: while my father drives, I think, I imagine things, I contemplate the sky, I contemplate the mountains, I feel free, with any hurry. I listen to music, I read, and I think about many different topics.
I enjoy travelling, not only the place where I go to and what I do there, but also the awful long and tiring journey to it. I know how to avoid this sense of tiredness and waste of time, and I take advantage of this long hours in which many people just do nothing.

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