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Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), December 2020 Against the canvas of the evening sun a tree is floating in the mist. Thick air, surprisingly light, though. A clean look beyond what you sense, beyond what you see. Gray mist floods your soul. a mist which obscures, distances the eternal white of crystal-clear light. Peace radiates from this corner, last evenings in the Fall; far away the sun takes a short respite to gather momentum to keep on shining, to shine bright  all over the world.  

Puçol (València, Spain), December 2020   Time is neither a river, nor a path, it is more a loyal squire always at your side, always close at hand. Time is a companion, a witness you can trust: it always pushes you forward, on and on, whenever you just wish to go back and retreat. Time never gives up on you, it is always at your side beyond what you ever were, beyond what you are now, beyond what you will ever be.

Walt Disney Hall of Music, Los Angeles (USA), January 2018   Beyond dreams and wishes and intentions generously opens up a path of light sheltered from harsh shadows, embraced by the soft wind which rocks the branches of trees. Beyond dreams and wishes and intentions magnanimous hugs you the lush fertile garden promise of abundance, omen of the peacefulness which will lull you to sleep. Beyond dreams and wishes and intentions and gardens and paths life does go on, your life goes on.

  Puçol (València, Spain), November 2020 Swimming upstream, against the wind. A steady fight against odds you never even fathomed. Discovering your strength upstream against the world. This is your way. This is the way.

Puçol (València, Spain), November 2020 Do you feel sometimes like your country is no longer your country, like your world is no longer your world? Do you feel a longing for things you never had, for things you never lived? Do you feel just like rewriting your life? Do you feel, when rewriting, like you are not ready to renounce the good you lived, the good you learned? Sorry, you have to know there is no such thing as rewriting, as going back without renouncing both everything and everyone. There definitely is no such thing as rewriting without renouncing, you just have to breathe and keep going with clear eyes and your brightest smile.

Home. Puçol (València, Spain), November 2020   The pain of the open wound left by loves that were, made out of an unguarded heart an unassailable rock. Lurking loves constantly battering on the stony skin forced the lithic suffering heart into a bastion among thick briers. Tenacious love, though, managed to ignite the briers letting at last fire start changing igneous rock into lava. With the incandescent lava the sacrifice of the rock came to give back space to a love which never ever stopped.

  Puçol (València, Spain), November 2020 Grau, gray, gris, a dark sky heavy with rain, an invitation to stay home, a time off to think, write, rest. Gray, gris, grau, clouds around me, cold breeze, shout out for a fireplace lit, a bonfire of both loss and wins. Gris, grau, gris, a promise to look back, a promise to keep going on, a promise to build a future.

  Puçol (València, Spain), November 2020 After the rain and the leaden gray which relentlessly flooded fields and streets and minds, brilliant, naïve the light is coming which in the air awakens brightness and colors suitable for this spring-like Fall in the arms of the Mediterranean.

Aptenia cordifolia. Puçol (València, Spain), October 2020   The softness of light in the Fall on the Mediterranean seaside brings back echoes of a Spring both close and far away, strange. The softness of light in the Fall in the memory of this year compels mind and senses to shed things outlived which must thus go. The softness of light in the Fall in this balance between new and old leads us to open up spaces for new things to come. The softness of light in the Fall in its splendid explosion of color makes me wish to ready a home to welcome a new fertile Winter.

  Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), October 2020 I wish I could build my very own golem, one to go with me wherever I go, one to stand by me whenever I am down, one to cherish however I feel. I wish I could model my very own golem after smiles that brighten my day, with that assertiveness that gives me faith, with that wholesome goodness to be spread. I wish I could shape my very own golem with cleansing bright looking eyes, with a pinch of salt, though, to be able to remain so very human… brimming with love and respect. And most of it, at the end of the day I wish my very own golem to be whoever they are meant to be, as long as happiness and kindness still remain their unwavering trademark. Now that I know how my golem will be I deeply wish that we never, ever, have to part ways.

Puçol (València, Spain), October 2020 Paint me in the colors of the sea, in the soft blue of the breeze, in the blue green of saltwater. Talk to me in soothing sounds, in the voice of the waves, in the caress of the wind, in the warmth of your touch. Let me breathe in the air of a new day, wallow lazy in the green of a forest, drift around in the sea of life, enjoy the voices of a thousand birds. Take me under your wings, carry me in your embrace: let me be my best version, let me just breathe and love.

Puçol Beach (València, Spain), October 2020 Drowning in a sea of uncertainty, in an ocean of solitude. Seasick in deep waters which overwhelm my every strength, which prevent me from moving, which keep me back from getting to those places I know I belong to. Overwhelmed as well by the sheer speed of days, by changing moods, by the sadness permeating my every day on this earth. Adrift, I am longing for a way to regain some sort of control over the speed of the turmoil around, over my emotions unchained. I crave for the peace of a calm sea, of a safe haven in this passing storm. Overwhelmed, on my feet, though, trudging against all odds, going with a steady step, going forth day after day.  

Puçol (València, Spain), December 2019 Looking at the waves, how they tireless pound the sand, the shore, how they stir the bottom of the sea, how they lull the shore to sleep, I see like in a mirror my passage through life: the sand my soul, water my challenges. Moved, worn out, lost in the water, I find myself once more in the fresh clean air, sheltered on the shore. The swaying never stops, just like the world never stops, steady for as long as I breeze both in learning and in life. At last reaching the goal  I will be able to appreciate the tenacious pounding of both destiny and life did make the perfect path which took me away, which took me to knowledge.

Puçol (València, Spain), September 2020 A different sky, seemingly gray, unclear, yet there is light. A different air, omen of change to come, of a new bright blue. A different day, apparent routine, surprise on the prowl. A different look, which sees blue within gray, happiness within gloom. A different life, with ups and downs, swift, with changes and a spark. A different perspective, which turns grief into energy of life.

Salamanca (Spain), September 2020 Rejection hurts. Losing love hurts. Is it always going to hurt like this? Is this pain just supposed to stay? No answers, just pain. I am looking at a landscape once so beautiful, now in shambles, a landscape I accidentally burnt down. Painful the view of ashes and embers, too weak, though, to look away, much too weak also to carry on. The time has come to stop licking my wounds, the time has come to pick up the pieces, the time has come to start rebuilding life. It is time to start building something new. It is time to wake up from this pain. It is time to stop hurting.

Sunset in a burning California, September 2020 (Thanks for the pic, Phillip!) Fire on the ground, fire in the sky. Fire in my soul, energy of change. To be a different person without abandoning myself. To be a different person while being just the same. To be change. To be energy. To be fire. To be. © Photo: Phillip Cleaver © Poem: José Antonio Calañas Continente  

  From my window, Puçol (Spain), September 2020 In my heart a void does live left by loves lived and gone, beautiful loves which shone bright until they left just darkness behind. Lost loves which once were, which livened up my days, which nestled themselves in my core. Cherished loves which disappeared, which left behind pain and cold voids, which threatened to darken my days. To no voids my heart is destined, its goal now to be filled again with new loves, with fulfilling ones, and with the fond memories too of what once was and is no more.

  A Face in the Moon, Puçol (València, Spain), August 2020 When love is over, rage caused by pain gives wide berth to resentment: the uneasiness of solitude –both new and old, forced– will sour your eyes, will muddy your days. When resentment is over, reproach is swiftly approaching your space: reproach for what’s been done, reproach for what’s been perceived. And for the sake of the love that was, and that –you know– won’t ever be back, you let your fond memories finally extinguish the embers of rage, of resentment, of reproach. When resentment is over, at its time, never before, a fruitful field opens up for you to sow the seeds of the new love that is just about to arise.

On the way home, AP-7, Spain I know somewhere out there is a special someone waiting for us to meet. I don’t know yet who you are, where you are going. I don’t know yet your name or age or how you look. I don’t know yet where you live, how you live. I do know, though, you are somewhere and our paths will cross. I know, always knew, good things need time: wait, hope, expect nothing. But would you consider hurrying up just a bit and letting us meet? My heart is healing nicely and ready to commit again: Just come and kiss me better.  

El Puig de Santa Maria (València, Spain), August 2020 Changing air, alive, cold colors dancing toning from blue to gray, from gray to deep orange. Changing clouds, alive, a storm in the making, prophecy of a sunset. Calm water, refuge, a storm unchained, wind caressing my face. A journey in good company near the sea, on sweet waters barely failing to reach the vastness of salt. Vital voyage all around, jumping from earth into the river, from the river into the calm sea, from the calm sea into a bright sunset.  

  Helsinki (Finland), May 2009 Mild as the breeze which smooths out the heat. Mild as the music which pampers your ears. Mild as the passing time in this peaceful summer. Mild as the caress which you wish and long for. Mild as the voice which you patiently await. Mild as the life which cares for and moves you. Mild as the tree which friendly shelters you. Mild… Life.

Puçol Beach, València (Spain), July 2020 An air of summer, smells of water. A scent of wet fertile soil, steps on dry lush earth. Once again in the summertime: time again to quieten the mind, to seek unafraid, without a care answers long time evading. Summertime for searching, for learning, for advancing. Summertime for leisure active in the school of life.

Sequoia & King Canyon National Park, California (USA), January 2018 Footprints lonely in the tracks, footprints together in the woods; footprints erasing one another, footprints, though on the ground helping each other to go forth in life. Footprints of endless straight ways, footprints of loves fought and felt; footprints of growing together hand in hand, footprints of differences so beautiful, so intense. Footprints of love turned to pain, footprints awakening in light, in a song, footprints reminding you are on your way; footprints which simply tell you you are alive and still learning.

Puig Ravine, Puçol (València, Spain), July 2020 Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened Anatole France (1844-1924) I do not know whether in this life I happened to simply love an animal from deep within my soul, a soul seemingly unawakened. I do know that I did love –still do– like an animal does: with no filters, no assessment, no judgement about facts such as if love given and love gotten do ever balance each other out. I do not know if I ever loved an animal, I do know though, that I did love like one and was happy when being loved and suffered when not. And I grew up, I loved and keep loving just out of the selfishness to know that it is loving like an animal what makes me truly human.

North Sea, Norway, August 2015 I needed people back in time to heaven my cloudy days, people who sometimes instead went out of their way to hell my time. I learned to live breathing heaven, I learned to survive breathing hell; I learned to bring closer who heavened me, I learned to send away who helled me. It is just like this with experience: now I rather heaven my life myself, so that nobody gets in a position to even try and hell my days. Heaven and hell, light and shadow, always hand in hand; both my own hell and my own heaven always hand in hand with my soul. A claim for balance so strange between heaven and hell, hell and heaven. helling the ones who claim to heaven me while heavening the ones who hell me… well in the know that hell and heaven are but two sides of my own coin.

La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), September 2017 Looking back as a change of year comes to make inventory of debit and credit, of achievements, challenges, paths walked and of every step which I still have to take. To banish regrets without a sorrow, to accept and assume scars and wounds: to heal again, to feel complete once more, to retake abandoned paths, to fulfill dreams. New colors in the Summer air, colors out of a rainbow of maturity which holds what I was, what I am and welcomes, too, everything I will ever be. New age, a new orbit around the Sun: a daily harvest of fulfilled dreams while I unwaveringly enjoy every single thing life puts in my way.

Córdoba (Spain), August 2016 (© José Antonio Calañas Continente) Time in lockdown, enforced solitude, a time so fruitful and intense… extremely different, strangely familiar, though. A pretension of new normalcy, barely apparent, pretty unreal, which leads my eyes back to the very core, the hearth of my essence. This new air so fresh and fragrant of a somehow sudden normalcy brings the calling if roots and blood: it lets me, pure instinct, cross the country to get back to my home and to feel the force of reuniting with my gens. Surrounded by roots in the southern Summer, this familiar air resettles at last the cruel uneasiness of a solitude which is never to come back.

La Toba (Cuenca, Spain), May 2009 Some things remain untold, though not unspoken. Feelings visible as light, hidden as shameful secrets. Shame lays, though, in the eyes of the one who acts and makes, a stubborn feeling you try and never succeed at letting go. To tell night from sunrise, experience from pain… an adventure easily untold, although not always unspoken. What I see and tell from my vantage point finds its cave in me, visible only to myself, visible only to my soul. To feel again complete in my own company, comfortable in my own skin: happy with the cards destiny dealt to me. My heart untold, though never unspoken.

Lake Constance (Germany), August 2009 Endless blues in land and sky, turquoise in water and salt, azure in air and sun. Wet cotton-like clouds, warm air, end of Spring, pleasant announce of Summer. Time to get back to the journey in body through life, the mind never stopped. Time to feel once more the heartbeat of days, life running unstoppable through your veins.

Monasterio de Piedra (Near Zaragoza, Spain), August 2006 In the swift breeze sways the idea, inspiration does freeze and vanishes away. Beautiful, subtle game of letting words disappear in a labile display of paper and pen. Looking for tame words to paint your images into an indigo world brimming with colors. Fertile imagination, deliberate writing, agile creation of a playful mind.

Lake Constance, Germany, September 2015 On a sea of calmness a boat sways in the waves, slides subtly, unstoppable toward a distant goal. A peaceful quiet image of life in motion harmonic, steady toward an eternal goal. The ship is my body, fighting the elements, shielding its passenger on his way around the world. The wind is my mind, trying to skipper with steady hand the ship carrying myself on my way around the world. The sails are my words, the link between mind and body, a filter which makes the dream real of being on my way around the world. Boat and wind and sails, body and mind and words, eternal souls on their way searching eternal in each single now.

Limburg an der Lahn (Germany), October 2016 The river flowing by your side, breathing with your heart, is never twice the same. The days where you flow from past to present to future are never twice the same. The light which welcomes you at dawn and bids you farewell at dusk is never twice the same. They may look and feel similar, but a kiss, a song, a wish, a love will not ever be twice the same. Because even though your name and soul remain the same, you are just not today like the you who yesterday went to sleep.

Puçol (València, Spain), May 2020 This time at home, with its mirage of leisure, is leading an unwilling me to the hidden crates which harbor my memories. Rummaging around them I came to see again good things that were and went, good things that made me grow, just plain good things. Diving to the bottom of them I met again the person who I was and am no more, who I wished to be and could not, who advanced to be who I am today. Strolling through memories I came to see again bad things that were and went, bad things that made me grow, bad things in appearance that faded into good ones. In this pipedream of leisure I found time to sort, clean, release the ballast of memories to be able to go lightly whenever my time comes. But until that very moment I will keep looking, serenely, the past into its absent eyes and just embrace my ghosts with my very best smile.