In English

  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.