My earliest memories are from this red house. I remember being there in the hot summer days, lazing around with nothing more to worry about than having fun and drink lemonade. We used to go to the lake to swim when the heat was unbearable. We would spend all day together and yet we wouldn’t get tired of each other. I remember the happiness of the first day in the Red House, sleeping with the sounds of the animals at night, the scent of the nature and the soft babbling of the nearby river. Every time I see this photograph I hear the calm of the house and the noises of the laughs.
Somewhere there’s a land where clouds walk through lonely streets, where the sea is magical and whimsical, where your mind fog is erased.
He loved music so much he didn’t care the disagreement caused in the heart of his family, he just couldn’t live without music, without his trumpet and his jazz. He left his home to follow a dream and even though the path was difficult and scary, he finally made it.
Sculpture of a trumpet player in Kobe, Japan.
Autumn is my favourite season. The light is just magnificent, the smells of the cold breeze at night and the delicious roasted chestnuts, the changing colours of the leaves and the first rains.
For me, autumn means to take out my wool scarf and hat, shorten days but an incredible light. Clouds, some rain, leaves everywhere, photographs of all of it.
But, unfortunately, this year is not going really well. Autumn weather is not still here, the heat is incredible high compared to years back, the rain, the scarf and the hats are missing and it doesn’t seem like they’re going to be coming anytime soon.
It’s a shame what we’re all doing with our nature, our Earth, our future. Still, autumn is my favourite season, even if it doesn’t exist anymore in Madrid.
Ps: this is Aranjuez (a great place to photograph autumn) a few years ago.
A silent gentleman in a boutique shop.