Red lights, [Un acordeón en Palermo], Todo puede pasar, aún. Todo es posible. Todo pasa mas queriendo que sin querer. Estaciones con mendigos y guitarristas. Suena un Waltz en La Paz y el caribe en Rio, cántico de negros, alma blanca e impura. Cierro los ojos y me pierdo en América, a pesar de todo, de ti, de él y de todos nosotros, a pesar de la historia y de los hombres. The spirit from the north, the cherry-red spirit travelling through paradise.
Bogotá off the road 2004/2005
As water drop by drop wears away the stone so the landscape models it's men, custom by custom. A people is, in the last analysis, a repertory of customs. Momentary bursts of genius that serve to make only it's people.
This was Lima, Perú.
posted by Lo @ 6:56 PM
A dreamer behind a camara, with dark brown soul windows, who lives at the country side of a land below the mighty seas... "Our lives don't really belong to us, you see -- they belong to the world, and in spite of our efforts to make sense of it, the world is a place beyond our understanding." -P.A
