HERE I am, sitting in the stone carve-out of my Airbnb in Barcelona (which is way too expensive). Because of the gauze attached to the ornamental ironwork, it feels a bit more private — yet at the same time, like a bit of a birdcage. I can easily spy on people from the first floor, and they don’t notice. I’m trying to listen in to their conversations for a brief second. If they’re silent, I try to make them look up — see if we share a connection.

The Music Palace is right around the corner, and I can hear some jazzy band playing in the background. The saxophonist takes me on a trip — not unlike Gaudí to appear this way. I’m sure he would’ve enjoyed this piece quite a lot, with its frilly yet patterned structure. It doesn’t concern itself too much with being symmetrical or overly balanced. Instead, it creates something more organic and spontaneous — something more akin to the realm of myth, something that dares to directly address our unconscious.

I believe magic shows itself in the perfect blend between fact and fiction.

I had the chance to observe Pablo Picasso’s incantations today in the Picasso Museum. The man could draw and paint the most realistic portraits from the age of 13. His father was an art teacher, and he was extensively schooled in the classic arts beyond that. His paintings may sometimes seem too extreme on the fiction side — but I saw that everything was always thoroughly studied beforehand, in mind or on paper. The “crazy” only comes out of a blend of reality and imagination.

As the saxophonist’s melody continues weaving through the air, I find myself pondering this delicate balance between fact and fiction. Picasso’s art, with its mix of studied precision and wild creativity, serves as a testament to this fusion.

Perhaps, like the whimsical architecture of Gaudí, life itself is a tapestry of asymmetrical beauty — where magic resides in the interplay between what is and what could be.

“How strange it is to be anything at all.”

And so, with the distant strains of jazz as my backdrop and the city’s pulse thrumming around me, I continue to observe, to listen, and to marvel at the intricate dance of existence.

It’s moments like these that remind me why I love to travel — to get lost in the rhythm of life, and discover the magic in the everyday.