À la recherche des châtaignes perdues

À la recherche des châtaignes perdues

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Discovering Combarro

From A Coruña to Pontevedra, to Combarro, to Vigo. Galicia is the only prison you’d love to a be a prisoner in. The sun rises late, it seems lazy, but when it shines, you’re fully hit by his exclusive, powerful, selfish heat.

Combarro has different smells: seaweed, saltiness, you know?, wheat, burnt octopus. Burnt octopus’ smell makes me think of chestnuts, with some Proust’s references that seemed apparently incomprensible to me. There was low tide. The granaries were locked and I just wanted to open those little doors. Why? Just because I couldn’t. There was so much stone all around. Alleys, smells and old people’s voices really shook my memory: I wasn’t able to reconnect it with a single, accurate memory, but I guess my synapses felt a semblance of infant happiness.

Different ideas about happiness

Is it possible to be happy when you’re a child? It is taken for granted: “of course it is possible”. I take for granted the opposite idea. It’s essential to be aware of who we are and what we feel. We have to be aware of what we feel while we’re living: a child isn’t.

Lightheartedness ≠ happiness. What = happiness, therefore?

Recognize happiness when it’s gone is an unforgivable mistake. We don’t deserve it. Theoretically, we spend our whole life looking for it. Proust used to search for lost time. Who looks for chestnuts, then? This is my point: we must recognize happiness, when we come across it – or when it comes across us. It happens just once or twice in a lifetime. The natural completion of a self-imposed task, which has no justifications or deadlines, isn’t just about making it: it’s about the awareness we have of this task’s completion.

Chestnuts, Proust and Chakra

We must recognize happiness when we meet it.

À la recherche des châtaignes perdues. I don’t even eat them. Has Proust been to Combarro? Who knows. What about you? Have you been to Combarro?

I’m listening to « Chakra », for what it’s worth.

From my skin’s logbook:

Combarro, Galicia, 25/08/2017

Written By Michele Clemente

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This Post Has 2 Comments

  1. I believe you have remarked some very interesting details , thanks for the post.

    1. Thank you for the support!

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