In English

Sequoia and King Canyon National Park, California (USA), January 2018   Frozen silver on the ground, a home for the Winter, memories warming up. A distant Moon makes everything closer, souls on the go in the cold of the forest. A way with no ends, a chain of lights in a night in Advent. Silver on the ground, silver on your temples, gold and diamonds on a wandering soul.

Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), December 2021 In the bright December light smells of childhood float in the air, memories of calmness flood your senses. The chilly temperatures of the winter forest wake up my feelings, my senses: a scent of warmth at home. Winter days and nights as I walk in the cold feeling shielded, sheltered, loved, happy, content, alive at the hearth of my home.

  Strasbourg (France), November 2021 I once was a boy, explored the world soaking up light, air, life, with no questions, with no doubts. I once was a teen, sought my world, conquered goals, changed to be, with questions, with doubts. I became an adult, achieved some comfort, overcame challenges, changed places, with no questions, with doubts, though. Now I see my world just as it is, as I built it. From this peaceful stage I long for the confusing calm of childhood and youth. I remember distinctly the boy, the teen, the adult. I remember what I did, thank for my achievements and stay on my way. Stages come and go, life goes on and so do I, still learning. Here and now: nothing else matters.

Bunyol (València, Spain), January 2020 I write exhaling in each word the air which used to be my prison. I write being the sound of ink flowing onto paper the wake-up call I need. I write because playing with words just makes me feel alive. I write so that being and feelings can flow with no limits.