I’M PUZZLED

Many things mark you for good when you’re a kid. Probably due to the fact that childhood is the stage at which you’re a sponge-like swallowing tones of information, you learn, you’re innocent, and everything is new and shocking to your eyes, and unconsciously, to your mind. It doesn’t matter whether it’s the view of some shocking scenes in a film, you pass through a trauma or an exciting experience, or you’re just a smart ass kid, some memories and associations remain for the rest of your life.

To be honest, my earliest memory was when I was a baby (guess I was 2 or 3, my parents can confirm it). My brother wasn’t even born, and we were on holidays in Puerto Banus (Málaga, South Spain). My mum told me I was quite active those days, talking to everyone, very outgoing, and apparently I disappeared a couple of times in a flash, attracted by whatever. We could say, I was a bit rebel, and gave them a hard time. I don’t remember anything. However, there was one evening-night (you know old times, kids curfew wasn’t based on pedagogic advise and we were staying up late) I cuddled a leopard cub for a while, and that I can remember perfectly, at least the softness of its fur, so warm and tender…

Accidents or illness are something I’m good at remembering. I stayed at the hospital due to acute pneumonia and I was given Cinderella tale, I kept with me for many years; after adenoids surgery, I got what would turn into my base camp for my Space figures, Laura’s house on the prairies farm, and on the way home, we got in trouble with a cab driver, ending up in the nearest police station ,with me calling him bad man, when the guy was apologizing; and the day I broke my lip while rolling on my little chair watching Sesame Street. Basically I ate the table and we had to go to the hospital running because I was bleeding nonstop.

I was very bad at drawing and writing. Still I am with drawing and arts in general, but my handwriting eventually improved. My torture and main punishment was writing. My left-handed condition wasn’t very helpful according to the writing style in fashion we were taught at school. I hated it! As soon as I started at the high school I didn’t have any kind of pressure coming from my teachers, thus I improved having a more than decent style, not now though, typing on a keyboard has caused a lack of practice and it’s not as good. But there was a time I was proud of it.

And why am I telling all these stories of my childhood? Because I received a present yesterday from my friends Mireia and Carlos, which has to do with my childhood phobias, however this time I feel in the mood to accept this challenge now that I am 35.

When unwrapping the present I was in shock when I  found out  it was a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle of Elvis Presley (68’ Comeback Special). Believe me, if I had to guess what it was it would never ever occurred to me such thing.

I’ve always got issues with what it’s called spatial orientation, probably caused by I’m left-handed too, although I cannot prove it. I’ve been getting better in this field, but not sure about my skills nowadays, reckon I’m quite good at stuffing many things in narrow places. Do you remember this attempt to design figures in order to reflect 3D and the shape they would make in motion? I think I’m being as clear as shit, sorry, thus I’m posting a pic as an example. Well, I had to deal with people so they were doing my homework, in exchange of me covering their English tasks. Tetris wasn’t that fun for me either. 5-7 stages and I was done.

I used to hate jigsaw puzzles, with all my heart. Remember my friend Diana’s dad gave me one of these 500 pieces and it went directly to the storage room, without even opening it. I just smiled and said thanks, enough for the guy thought it was a great idea to give another one the year after, this time 1000 pieces. I repeated the same procedure, smiled (not so happy), said thanks, and took the box to the storage room, putting it on top of the previous one.

I was too nervous and hyperactive as to spend too much time in placing just two-three pieces. There were many other activities more interesting and appealing.

When I opened the present yesterday, it was kind of funny, big laugh really. Mireia thought of my beloved Elvis as motivating enough, which I agree with, and the purpose of the puzzle was to be entertained at home, so I wouldn’t go out so much in winter, finally being able to save though. And the additional point was a great idea to friends meeting, trying to help me with the puzzle, accompanied with beers and my quiche specialties.

I’m definitely giving it a try, as soon as Xmas is over. Should use some of my spare time in things which do not imply internet, going out nor spending so much dough too. And I mean it. And hopefully one day the damn puzzle will be finished and will write a post here telling about the progress. Elvis will surrender to me!

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