Quality or quality?

Recently I was writing a note in favor of choosing quality over quantity. But as I progressed on it, and read back the things I was writing, I came to realize something new and interesting... so here it is, the final cut from 3 different notes:

Quality is important to me, I have always preferred good, lasting and reliable things. I prefer to enjoy the flavor of a good chocolate over a whole bag that takes me half hour to finish (even tho I know that I'll be hungry soon after). I will stay more in one place to get to know it instead of just crossing it out from the list and forgetting about it a couple of years later. I prefer to have phew friends as long as I know that they will be there when I need them. I have loved phew women but I still remember every single moment I had with them, and I have no regrets for they are all perfect to my eyes.

But there is another side to all of this. I have always said that luck is something you have to earn, that life gives opportunities equally to everyone (life may be a bitch, but she is fair) but only those who are looking for them will get to notice one when it presents itself. That was the turn over, the more opportunities you find, friends you meet, things you have or notes you write. The more you do, more the chances of one “lucky” strike. And also practice makes master, right? The more you do something, the better you become at it.

So... quantity brings quality. But it is also a fact that less is more, that by doing less things you can do them better. So how does this system work? Less quantity brings more quality, and more quantity brings more quality. Well, yeah! Took me a long time to realize something as simple as that. There doesn't need to be a contradiction. It all comes down to this, do less but do it right... or do as much as you can... both of them will lead you to a better result. My conclusion is that quality is the result of effort, not the lack of quantity.

I have never been the best at something, but I'm competitive in almost anything. I do not have much, but I am proud of the things I have. There is not much love in my life, but all of it is disinterested and unconditional. And if I compare the small amount of people I can call “friend” with the huge amount of people I have met in my life, I realize how special and extraordinary you all are and how “lucky” I was to have found the opportunity of meeting you.

Thank you all, you are the proof that all of my efforts are well rewarded.

dream of a winter morning

Looking down my jacket I'm trying to understand why my bright wine-red tie wont fit, I realize the node is not right and I pull it off with frustration like if it wasn't the first time it went wrong. Start all over again but pretty soon mi interrupted by the sound of a door opening that compels me to turn my head around, and again, I miss the node. Frustrated about it I turn to see who is to blame for distracting me, and as soon as I do, I can't seem to remember what was I doing before I saw her.

Through the door, a beautiful and sophisticated looking girl wearing a long and shiny blue dress comes in and gently asks  -Are you ready?- I reply raising one eyebrow with a gesture of doubt while showing her the horrible mess around my neck. A whisper of dissapointment mixed with a little humour follows as she starts walking towards me before taking the tie away from my neck with a gentle jet aggressive pull that makes me loose my balace a little as I get bend down closer to her. And as soon as I quickly recover and turn my head down to see her progress I realize the node is perfectly finished. -Now you are ready- she says giving me a smile as I stare confused wondering how she did it, but it doesn't matter.

After taking my hand we start walking to the door on the other side of the room and just before we reach it, she suddenly stops and turns to me saying -I almost forgot...- . Then I notice she has red carnival mask in her other hand, same red as the suit I'm wearing, so I take it and only until then I notice she is wearing a similar mask but in a matching blue, had she been wearing it this whole time? can't remember if she had it on before or not, cant seem to remember her face, but it doesn't matter, so I just put my mask and soon as I do, her voice cheerfully says -Lets go!- and her hand firmly starts to pull me again.

It takes jus a few more steps before we reach the door we where heading for and as a gentle man I open it and gesture for her to go in before me. A smile and a bow thank me this invitation but as soon as she goes on, she pulls me in hard enough to make me loose my balance and I stumble into the next room following her and trying not to fall down while still being in her guiding grip that won't let me go as she continues to pull me gently towards her. I slowly recover to notice her face right next to mine, my hands around her waist holding her tight and her arms streched over my shoulders as if we were about to dance. I'm standing confortable again somehow, jet hypnotized by her skills and beauty. All I see is a pair of beautiful eyes hiding behind the blue mask mixed with a big naughty smile that blinds my senses. I just do not realise where I am until several moments after.

I'm at the biggest hall I have ever seen, an endless sequence of domes and pillars extending without end in all directions, and an incredible amount of people is dancing in circles around us, everyone with different colourful suits and dresses similar to ours, and everyone with a different matching mask. No trace of the door we crossed or some way to go in or out of there, but it doesn't seem to matter, is actually the overwhelming immensity of the room and the ridiculous amount of people around me what starts to scare me.

I turn around desperate, only to see more colourful people spinning in circles. All the movement is starting to make me confused and more scared, but then someone captures my attention. I see a brunet, in a blue dress, with beautiful eyes hidden by a blue mask, standing still and alone with one of her hands streched towards me and leaning her head just a little making her seem playful while she keeps staring at me with that naughty smile that had me hypnotized before She seems to be waiting for me to accept her hand so I reach out for it and in that moment, as our hands touch, it seems I completely forget where I am, it doesn't seem to bother me any more so I now I it is me who leads her into the same dancing position as we were just a moment ago. Now it is me who is smiling.

I am staring into her eyes again, and after a short bow we begin to dance in circles mixing around the crowd. There I am, dancing in circles lost in between thousand of couples doing the same thing as we are, all the colours moving in the background melt beautifully as we turn in perfect synchrony with the rest. We go on, and on, and on... we never stop... there is no entrance or exit, and it doesn't seem to matter. I never stop staring and smiling, she never stops either, we never stop dancing, going around in circles... and it is fine. It doesn't matter... nothing else matters any more.

Why? just because.

I am curious and arrogant. I think those are the qualities that I like the best about me, because they make me the way I am. I am a learning machine that finds a way to be fascinated by most things that others find common (curiosity), and I also find the way to improve myself every day by learning things that most people wouldn't find interesting or useful at all. Currently I am learning photography, Japanese and how to juggle 4 tennis balls at the same time... why? Not because I plan to become professional photographer, travel to japan or because I want to earn money on the streets showing off my new tricks (though maybe I could give it a try). It is simply because there is no reason not to do so.

It bothers me not to know something, and it is even worst when I do not understand it. I become obsessed with it until I find an answer that satisfies all the questions I have. Most people live their entire life without even knowing themselves or knowing their own body. We all consider some things for granted and ignore them, or simply never even notice them. There is just too much information around be able to process it all, and that is Ok by me. But there are things that you notice, and choose to ignore. Most people will choose to remain ignorant, and as I have mentioned many times before, I hate ignorance with all my guts.

I can not see, touch, smell or hear something without asking myself... Why? The ultimate question for everything. There is always a reason, even if we will never find it. Why is it that I am the way I am, cause I ask myself that question every day. Understanding the world helps you enjoy it more. When you notice how complicated it is to answer the “why” of some little details of life that we ignore or give for granted you will be able to find the interest in life, the fascination over this beautiful world that you have lost with the time. There will be more reasons for you to enjoy your every day, everything will become more beautiful and life will start to have more meaning... even if we do not understand it all. Its all about the details. I can guarantee you this.

Just part of the routine.

I want to tell you a story today, its based on a true story even though some things might not be completely accrued. A guest, that could not even remember my name, pointed at me screaming -you!- and came to me asking if I was really a Mexican. She heard it from my chief yesterday night during the presentation of the team after the show had ended. -Yes-, I answered proudly. And she commented that i didn't look like a Mexican. -Mexicans should all be small, dark skin, eyes and hair-. So I laughed with irony to make her think she was being eloquent. I fake this things quite often, and I hear this comment also quite often so it was nothing new. So I nicely answered - I am sorry that I am not able to fit into the cliché, but tomorrow I will bring a big hat with me so you can take a picture-.

It is quite easy to be offensive, but you require a lot of talent to offend me. And let me tell you, this woman was a great contender. While the fake giggles and whispers were still fading I tried to make my way out of it, but she noticed and quickly pulled my arm and said -before you go, let me just ask you one more question... what is a Mexican doing here in the Canary Islands? Is it not too far away from home?- So, after getting her hand away from me I smiled and answered, in the same pretentious tone as her. -Well, you already know what I do here... I believe you saw me yesterday. And I am here for the exact reason that you just mentioned... it is far away from home, I want to see the world while I can-

This was not enough for her, so breaking her promise she kept asking more and more questions that I can even consider routine and that I avoid as much as possible. But she had everything already figured out. -how old are you?- 24, -how long have you been doing “this”?- for almost 3 years now, -what did you do before?- university, -really?- yeah, -what did you study?- I started engineer but didn't finish cause I don't want to practice engineering anymore (I even gave full answer knowing that she would push more), -but you can not do “this” for ever... what will you do when you are 30?- well... I do not know what I will be, but I can tell you what I will not be... “this”, so I want to do it while I can. -But you seem to be a smart boy, you should do something better with your life and continue as engineer!- Well, just as not all Mexicans have dark skin, not all smart people end up being engineers.

With such persistent guests it is always the same story, always the same answers. But I would not be writing this if “she” would be just another annoying guest who thinks that knows what is best for me. Ohh no. She kept going where she shouldn't have... -And, what does your mother think about this?- She is proud of me. -Reeaally? (with a tone that made it very clear where this was going to end... and at this point I knew I had to run away... now!)- Yes, she is, and my dad too. -They should know better (she said), if you were my son I would not allow something like this- Well... I am very glad that you are not my mother, cause I love my parents very much and they are the nicest people you would ever meet, and I'm sure that my chief also appreciates the fact that you only have one son (poor guy) or else there would be any entertainers left to hire.

Of course she got upset about my tone, but no one messes with the ones I love. So after a short silence I continued and said goodbye to her. -Well, it was a pleasure talking to you, and if you have any complains about the way my mother raised me, feel free to talk to my chief Jordi or directly to the management of this hotel. My name is Matias, as you can read (pointing to my badge) or just “the Mexican guy” would be enough. I hope to see you for bingo at four O'clock and if not I wish you a nice day-. I had never been so rude to a guest before in my career, not even to random people who have also tried to offend me, I think this place is really starting to affect me more than I though. But you know what? I liked it, she deserved it for being so pretentious. I have always said that I am too nice, specially to people that do not deserve nice. So there is a first one for everything... right?

self-righteousness-awerness campain

Have you ever watched "Dogville"? its a great movie that taught me a lot about myself. I do not judge others according to my standards because I strive to be the best human being that I can, and that includes being forgiving and understanding of anyones imperfections (including my own). But you know? I hadn't realized, until very recently, that forgiving sometimes can mix itself with having pity... and avoiding conflict can allow wrong-doing not only to myself, but also to those that I care about. And for what? Self-righteousness?

I'm extremely arrogant, no one needs to tell me that (and when they do I sometimes even like it), but someone once told me I was "too good" as if this was something to complain about... which kind of contradicts my previous confession. And since then I've hated to be called that. But they are right: everything in excess is bad, even the good things, even the good intentions, and even forgiving. Sometimes being rude and make someone take notice, as I just did, is not only the right thing to do but the loving thing to do for them. Yes, calling me what used to be the worst offense I could describe, was a caring way to tell me there was still room for improvement hidden behind my huge arrogance.

And now, what all of these words were trying to express is that I'm TOO nice to tell you somethings in your face, and just because I don't, it doesn't mean there is no complaints or criticisms to share. It means there is always room for improvement, but the best way to realize it is to pay attention and start looking at yourself, as I also look at myself and as I look at you. Start judging me according to your standards and see what you can criticize about me that I could not criticize about you. Start by asking yourself if this is meant for YOU to read it, cause maybe there is room for improvement behind that arrogance of ours.

potential hopelessness

For me, that my efforts never satisfy my expectations and that my hopes of personal talent are shadowed by the cruel realization that I've been wrong before... many times. For someone who has always been willing to give it a try knowing that failure is eminent and that remaining humble is the way to save my poor self-esteem, its hard to understand where my very noticeable arrogance keeps coming from. What makes me crave this disappointment? Do I enjoy to believe that I can do better, always, even if it means to fail at it, always.

How many times did I think about writing this in one of my notes? many. How many times did I read my final score and decided to start over? A lot. When will I be able to express to you what it is that I'm trying to say? Never (maybe...). I know all of this, and still here I am, doing it, failing with every key-stroke and pausing after every sentence to gasp before resuming what is probably my most depressing moment of my day. And any ways, I always find the motivation to continue. It could be the hope that practice will not make me perfect, just a tiny bit better.

And at the end, I read it. For you it may make no sense, but for me its the universal truth in every-single-little-thing that I do in every-single-insignificant day of my life. It is not meant to be understood, it has no reason to actually exist, it would be better of if I would have invested my precious time in something productive and not just in writing some short idea that went through my mind while I had apparently nothing better to do, or say. But then again, why not? This is bad according to my standards, and I can do better, and I will do better. But its over, I've done it, and that is closer to one win than never have tried.

Be nice to the barman.

One very important lesson to learn is "be nice to the barman". He is not a machine, he is usualy just another fellow "cheerer" making his way through life and most of them are friendly and sociable guys who, just like myself and most of you, enjoy to have a good time in a bar.

But complimenting them or starting a campain to tip more is not the point I want to make. I'm concerned on how often people seem to forget my previous statement, specially when ordering drinks, and even more frequent, when ordering drinks for someone else.

This is a recomendation to my fellow bar dwellers, specially the girls.  When you meet someone, and they offer to buy a drink, just take good notice of how they treat the barman and that will give you a very good idea of how they really are when they are not trying to impress you.

I've observed this already many times, and our dear friends the barmans, are subject to a lot of casual, but mostly not ill meant neglection by those too focused on getting something out of this night. And I usualy find it hilarious from my spectator seat.

A good person should treat everyone the same, from the one you are buying a drink for, to the one you are buying the drink from. At the end, both serve a purpose and have something you want, so there is no room for preferences in my humble opinion.

Character comes from how you treat those who don't have something you want. So watch it! others will.

Here it goes, again.

How good Im I at keeping a diary ? pathetic. You might have noticed this if you saw the time it took me to write my second post. But then again, it has always been like this for me. Im very dedicated, but I lack disipline... quite a paradox.

Anyhow, I will start using this tool to practice and write sometimes. Its is after all, along with photography, the only creative process that I currently enjoy . So here it goes again: A mix of my thoughs, reviews and stories from the places I visit, coverage of events that I take part in, or simply curation of interesting pieces of literature that I would like others to read as well.

Hope you enjoy.