On analogue photography

One of the things I love the most is taking my camera(s) out and take photographs of Madrid, my city, trying to see the city under a different point of view. But unload the film and develop it (even if it’s on my small and not-so-appropriate bathroom) and see the results for myself.

The greatness of doing something with your hands, to touch what felt untouchable, and see the result of wandering and wandering.

Sometimes the photographs aren’t as good as expected, or as many as I’d like it to be, but the feeling is pretty amazing, and as it has turn out, quite difficult to describe.

I don’t develop as many rolls as I’d like to, but do not worry, I’m getting there.

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Chinatown

In the autumn of 2016 I went to Liverpool, it sounded like a nice destination, although I didn’t know anything of it (just a few guys that made quite good music… )

But in the end I loved the city, its industrial feeling with brick buildings, small museums and its port. Even though I almost had a heart attack when I dropped my camera (and it even bounced!!)

Anyway, it was a trip that I took on the spur of the moment, thinking of it with no special meaning … but it was outstanding, a city I recommend without doubt.

Liverpool has a lot to offer, with different faces, like this one of Chinatown, with the iconic brick houses mixed with the Chinese writing.

By the way, revising the photographs I took (here a few), I just remembered how much I miss my Polaroid Impulse Portrait, maybe it’s time to take her out to (and) have fun.

Molly Malone

In Dublin’s fair city,
Where the girls are so pretty,
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
As she wheeled her wheel-barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”
“Alive, alive, oh,
Alive, alive, oh,”
Crying “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh”.
She was a fishmonger,
But sure ’twas no wonder,
For so were her father and mother before,
And they wheeled their barrows,
Through the streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”

(chorus)

She died of a fever,
And no one could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone.
But her ghost wheels her barrow,
Through streets broad and narrow,
Crying, “Cockles and mussels, alive, alive, oh!”