In English

Mission, San Juan de Capistrano (California, USA), November 2018 A garden between home and road, a street with the name of a teacher. A high school with a splash of philosophy, a school afterwards with a new language. An apartment on the riverside, a small house on a lucky island. A dark studio in the big city, a big one in a happy town, a smaller one later on, another one. A place shared with family, exile, new place in historical setting. Back to the city with another language, new place, new family, then a second exile. A house on the beach, lonely, seeking, at last, my new home in the mountains. Already sixty years young, sixty years lived, feared, dreamt of. Sixty years to spread my wings, sixty memories which finally stopped being a burden, they are energy.

Puçoñ (València, Spain), October 2023 The shortest night, the longest day in the year: Cleansing water and fire. There I leave behind memories of lived intensity, recollections threatening to burden, to slow me down. At the same time, I accept the challenge of shining bright, of being energy, of flowing through life while still being an anchor.

Altura (Castellón, Spain), June 2024 Relieved Unburdened Free Bright Happy Alive!

València (Spain), June 2024 Light at the end of Spring, surrealistic mosaic of colors dancing, cavorting, rioting, creating unimaginable spaces. Colorful light, color of life, life without a pause, realistic mosaic, endless harmony.

Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), May 2024 Accepting the persistence of an absence awakens in my reason, in my soul, both aware of the finitude of the world, a most selfish unwillingness to let people go who, at some time, shed light into my days. Though gone they are, gone they stay.

Mas La Plana, Santa Maria d'Oló (Barcelona, Spain), May 2024 There are countless greens, equal in their many shades, a different greenness within. But not even one comes close to the sparkling, fragrant green of the forest after the rain in May.

Altura (Castellón, Spain), May 2024 Clouds in May coming and going, tough witnesses of time passing, a symbol of myriads of waterdrops, of tiny little cells working together. I thank the cells of my skin for, at the same time, sheltering me  and letting me feel the world outside. I thank the cells of my brain for letting me understand and connect both visible and invisible worlds. I thank the cells of my bones and muscles for opening the door to moving, to visiting and living new places. I thank every single cell in my body, so similar, though decidedly different, but in such perfect harmony that life works. I am as thankful for the work of the elements, as for the one each of my cells does bringing on the perpetual harmony of a life on the move.