I am living in the kind of place that traumatised my mother as a child so that she has been quite a keen cleaner all her life...

If I were to have to describe the colloquial terms "dive", "hole", "pigsty" to an alien, I might show them this place. The other people that live here don't seem to find that it affects their state of mind that much, although Sheri admitted that it did, once she noticed. What I admire about some people is that they are just too busy being utterly passionate about their biggest dreams in life, that two non-functioning clotheswashers, three revolting fridges (and more upstairs), grimy black-with-oil light switches, a moldy bathroom with a leaking shower, a storage room full of junk, with no door, behind the kitchen, random things dangling from the ceiling that were once nice in the 80s or when they weren't broken... don't really register.

It was a little difficult looking for a place during August, living in Lebrija. But in the end, the real problem was that I didn't want to promise some really nice fellow roommates that I'd stay for 3 months, and then find a job in another city, decide to go work on a farm, or go home. This was one of the few places I knew without going to major trouble, where staying for a month at a time was possible.

I feel that I have it pretty good with men noticing me, but I'm nowhere near Sheri's abilities in that field. She's turned down 13 guys since she got here. I think a couple of months. But going out the door of our apartment the other day, a really guapo guy caught her eye, and then he saw the door. She could tell he noticed it. Who wouldn't? It must be the dirtiest door on Calle Sol. I cleaned it halfway today. Anyways, I think I'm not going to clean much more, cause I'm here for the same goal as Sheri, really. To obtain a state of mind like Antonio Gades in the poster she showed me.

For years I have had a vague image of living on very little, in circumstances that others would perhaps not choose. Since I was a teenager I have badly wanted to put my mental and emotional energy towards some pursuit with passion, and possibly for a living. To that end I have for a long time thought that if it were necessary, I'd rather do without, if my spirit and soul could be satisfied. They certainly haven't been anywhere even remotely close to that, really ever. I suppose it is the typical artist thing. I do not believe that one "must" live poorly to be an artist, just that it often happens to be necessary.

Sheri considers nutrition extremely important and spent some time explaining that she thought is was a big problem in the flamenco world - that any aspect of the art (not just dancing) requires an enormous amount of energy due to the emotional intensity. In the past, along with the lifestyle in which flamenco began (a lifestyle from a different era, when people lived close together, had less things but of better quality) they had better food. We all had better food in the past, because it was picked closer to the time of eating, or was not grown in nutrient poor soil fertilised by simple chemical fertilisers, and thus, gave our bodies what they craved. She maintains this could even be a part of why the gitanos do drugs. They eat white flour spaghetti with ketchup and hot dogs, and then try to expend a massive amount of energy singing or dancing, so they need cocaine. Sheri doesn't have a centimo until she gets paid on Thursday. But she eats brown rice, quinoa, carrots, and no junk food. She spends an unbelievable E20 per week.

I do not know if I will continue to live like this. I certainly do not plan to continue living in this hovel. But if it suits my life's best direction, perhaps I can learn to do with very little. It has seemed depressing and scary to me to think about "depriving" myself of certain luxuries like having coffee or a glass of wine in a cafe, and I have struggled with that the entire time I've been here because my budget really doesn't include much for it. Up till now, I've felt that it is better to let myself do it, within reason, so as not to put myself in a depressing state of feeling deprived. But at this point, I can't afford it. There isn't anything very difficult about it, as long as the people you hang out with are doing the same. Without knowing that someone else in my house is doing the same thing, that we can hang out together sometimes in the evening, it would be impossible. Everything really depends on people. During the day Sheri is either at her studio painting, at flamenco classes, or else sitting in the lobby of a beautiful hotel reading (in order not to hang out here). This is the biggest thing that attracted me to China initially, despite its "ugliness" (all the bad things about it): the people are together laughing and living life as fully as they can, having dinner together in their shop full of rubber pipes or soffiting or toilet seats, or sitting on a dirty street together selling barbequed vegetables, with huge smiles.

Despite the grime, the struggle against a poverty complex and mindset that I'm not going to make it, this is better than being alone in my nice apartment on Main and 48th, and stuck in a job that suffocates me.