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Hidden Moon. Los Villares de Córdoba (Spain), August 2019 Always longing, angst today, fear tomorrow: unfruitful uncertainty, a desolate landscape. Absences today open up new spaces to my own happiness which sprouts and spills over to everyone around. Dry wasteland today, a space, though, to be whole and happy, to live the usual everyday longing with the innocent happiness of just being alive.

Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), July 2019 After the struggle is finally over, all I see right before my eyes is scorched land. Looking forward, though, I am most definitely certain, this barren landscape around is but life just waiting to happen. After love is gone, all that remains is memories and heartache, a barren heart which I know well, a barren heart which is not dead, but recovering, resting, healing. When the heartache finally subsides, I am most definitely certain, this once barren heart of mine will be but love just waiting to happen once more.

Llotja de la Seda (Silk Market), València (Spain), January 2019 “I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.” W.H. Auden: ‘Funeral Blues’ (1938) * W. H. Auden’s blues in the back of my mind, all clocks stand still, time has stopped. That love could have lasted forever, but it did not. Time and love, both meant forever, both, though, ending in a flash, both able to warmly simmer along, both pushing and pulling, till they broke. We stopped all the clocks, we cut off the telephones, we silenced the pianos, we put out every star. Although, and this is the wonder of lost love, each of us, alone, broken, can, again, be one, complete. So now, let the clocks keep going: put the stars on because life is bright, future is about to restart now to never come again to an end. * https://web.cs.dal.ca/~johnston/poetry/stopclocks.html