Sharp ends of this wire hurt my skin... who is pulling all the time at the opposite end? who? It's difficult to go on with so many heart-damaging gestures. Somehow I never minded hurting myself. In this struggle, I won't release the wire while I'm pulling, won't let go because I just try to get by, so simple as that!. Standing and waiting, being hurt each time I have to play this stupid game, an undesired tug of war. Not going to cede... in no way. So... pull!.

You're the one who draws my attention through the window and nothing interests me more than you, still dressed in red and bright yellow. I dare say that you love coming and going, falling leaf ... advancing and retreating at times, there's no hypnotizing dance more harmonious than yours, full of caprice as waves of the sea move, or the sun when it hides between the clouds, don't forget fickle love or shy inspiration at its most. Tell me, if you can feel it?, that leaf that comes and goes..., moved by the wind, without a place of its own. That leaf that comes and goes.

Who looks at lost leaves? traveling to the end of their existence, with little sap, nor tree to find a shelter. Dying leaf, a dancing colorful brightness to my eyes, a falling beauty. Do not want to let you go!, but you are not mine, you're a daughter of time, a dancer of air, temporary leaser of life and already part of freedom by your own courage.

It moves in the same air that you breathe ... tell me if you can feel it? I only catch you between the tips of my fingers and I do not want to let you fall, however you'll be free to get wherever you need to go. I can not stop the moment eternally, I can not change the becoming, only a few seconds you'll be next to me. I finally release you...

Falling leaf, fly!... fly so at last you're free! Towards your promised destiny.

Who looks at a falling leaf, but another fallen leaf?.

It shows  itself striking and very attractive, this deep well of ambition; ambition to be the most valued, the most seen, the most requested ... the one that covers "covers" (if you'll excuse the repetition), the one about whom everybody talks. How easy it is to fall headfirst to the bottom of the well! Falling can fall very straightforwardly, but does anyone ever get out of there? Of that sort of prison, I honestly do not know ...
The woman stares at the well, putting herself too much at risk and in danger just only daring to do this, sometimes she's attracted by what is inside, but it's the worst thing she can do. Do not sit or even contemplate it!.

I have seen people fall, blinded by the brightness, forget friendship, human warmth, empathy and appreciation of others, forget everything that enriches our inner life: for what? ... simply to be : "The most clever and petulant", "those who know best", "those who best put the points on the I's", "those who have the last word", "those who move the threads", "those who eat the big cake "and in the end, they are only poor unhappy loners at the bottom of a deep well.

Remedies, there are few: "to be oneself", "to value relationships with others above any interest", "to be willing to give in favor of your friends or people close to our hearts" and to think that a friend is someone by whom we would be willing to annoy ourselves, just to do him/her some good.

The Well of Ambition ... has already engulfed many people; many proud and greedy. And more that is going to swallow ... In reality it has no physical place, but it appears everywhere and every time; I believe that this image has been sufficiently illustrated.

I have always been interested in this artwork: "The Wave" by Bouguereau ... it's been appealing to me because I felt identified with the woman in the painting. She likes the sea, sitting on the sand, hearing the crashing of waves, breathing the breeze ... her whole face emanates happiness and fullness. Why do I identify myself so much with her? For her smile and for being a fairly ordinary woman, with a natural body, a belly due to perhaps having had some children or not, not necessarily, and with a certain natural weight; For nothing related to the slavery of sculpting the body. Being curves so nice and natural too. The artwork itself is stunning because although there's a greater presence of cold colors, it only emanates warmth thanks to the complicity of her face.
I knew that sooner or later, I would try to approach and make my version of THE WAVE ..., a recreation that aids me to always remember this beautiful scene and atmosphere.
My son loves the scene and he says to me: "Mom, I love you as you are, just as you are", what could be a greater happiness? 

I'm still in the middle of my journey. Downwards, only fog on the way, the path can not be distinguished, and barely I can remember anything from the past, even don't know if it's worthy to try. Upwards, the same fog, in an uncertain path. Don't know where to go, where my steps are directed, maybe this uncertainty is a kind of blessing for me. Having nothing clear, anything isn't an absolute "truth". Fog down the path, same fog up the same path.

My bags do not weigh, just my lightweight luggage on the back. Certainties do not attract me, nor horizons clear defined, as only they serve to override our will. If all went well for us, if all we desired was shown so obvious, if we were so perfect ... then we'd begin to slow down, to stop and at that very moment, we'd begin to die just a little.

So, I use to welcome uncertainty and I'm not afraid of being in the middle of nowhere and clearly marching "TO NOWHERE", not discerning where or when, that makes me to be always so alive, then ... looking for "what"?...

While everything blazes in bright crimson,
I sit quietly watching how life goes by.
Red flames burning my heart, burning my hands
burning my mind and the bark will slowly burn as well.
Oh! Sweet bonfire, never turn off.

Oh! Sweet red flames, set my heart on fire.
I'm always on fire, although I would gladly burn as well.
Always it's me who burns without any remedy,
in these beautiful flames, red bonfire of love.

(c) Laura Marco

It's amazing when everything is dominated by realities that haven't got a human nature, and therefore are more homogeneous and pure, neutral and incorruptible: as clouds are. In "Where clouds reign ..." there're no privileges or privileged ones, only silence reigns. While water vapor passes surrounding us, windblown, it offers a very overwhelming feeling, almost one of helplessness. We can not grab these white shapes floating in the air, like big patches of a huge collage, neither stop them ... that white halo slips through the hands, the arms, the hair... too hastily... even it does slip with rage. It runs and runs once uncovering the landscape, then covering it again, in the form of a mad, torn curtain which travels constantly, sight is not so well adapted to follow these constant changes. One can not do anything inside this wet tangle, only with time slipping away, lose up our own body heat and be and feel more desolated as sadly maladjusted in this course of nature. Stun with the white purity of clouds, I'd like to retain the moment and take it with me forever ... but I can not. Picking moss, branches or any physical act is useless. That beauty can not be retained in any container that can be carried home. The basket and the content would not serve me, nor help me. Its beauty remains only in the mind. These instants so timeless are stored in our memory: luminosity, colors, smells ... muffled sounds, everything in the degree our senses are able to experience.

Memories are all that we can stored and kept "almost" forever, though there's no way to preserve their liveliness over time, with the years to come. "Quickly we forget what we long for, and slowly we forget what we do want to."

I do not know how long its vividness will stay in my mind, let's say: its humidity around me, the wet undergrowth and deserted paths, the cold stoned floor under my feet getting me colder at every moment and changing my vigil into lethargy; the peeved raindrops which are thrown by pines trees uncontrollably moved by the wind. I do not know how long I'll be able to remember and retain that temporary deceleration for my feelings and hence as a juice that nourishes my soul. "Where clouds reign"... was already gone, is just a memory, now a feeling for me.

Welcoming the fall !. I have called this image "Autumnal Bed" ... every autumn when leaves are falling and changing their colors, from green to red, or from green to yellow ... depending on their pigments (xanthophylls or carotenes), I feel an uncontrollable desire to swim therein, like a child enjoying in a swimming pool of leaves and I love bathing as if it was a pool of colors :)

I enjoy throwing them in the air and looking at the little colorful pieces falling down on me again, the soft noise they make while supporting the weight of my body and their lightness are quite appealing as well. This image is taken in a little corner in my garden, between an ivy and a Virginia creeper or Quinquefolia.

As you can perceive throughout my artworks, I'm very prone to use shadows, but occasionally also love getting drunk with colors. Hope you'll like it. Kisses.

I truly believe that there is a guardian angel, who is always with us ... what happens is that we do not perceive it. Neither makes us better or worse people: simply accompanies us so that we are never alone. I do not think it's anything physical, but rather something immaterial, spiritual ... that moves us. Physical objects are just subtle manifestations or vaguenesses that help us to recognize; it could be the doll, may be the silence that surrounds everything or perhaps even the shadow, in this case there is something special in her shadow, almost as if alive  :)

The guardian angel is something more powerful than friends or people, because the latter are usually slaves of one another. They're obliged to pleasing each other, in a kind of slavery without being actually felt or realized, but ultimately it is a true servitude.

Instead I never have to please my angel, neither it pleases me. We only do ourselves company, helping each other remember that we are still alive, a reminder of our own existence and a reflection of our own consciousness that prevails at all times and situations. Proof that human beings, are not merely a set of cells, but we expand and project around us. The best way to feel our own self-being is to enter a narrow place and stay relaxed for a time.

For me, this image is a reflection of how life moves around in a way that can not be grasped visually, it has to be felt, perceived through senses: sometimes it'll hurt, sometimes it'll sweeten and it's up to us to know how to stop and look around. Hence, details are extremely important.

A few days ago, it was very hot ... a warmth inside that does not go away with anything, showing that at the end of summer, the season change is needed, one languishes for moist air, which cools body and even our thought.

So I decided to go to a bazaar to just buy "a fan", I chose a simple one ... it was all just to freshen up !, but ... when using the fan, as I opened and closed my hand, it blew fresh air and vitalized my face, I was surprised about how the imagination began to contemplate another fan, otherwise made as I present it here in this last work.
I saw it full of glitter, with a woman in the center that looked as if nothing really matters to her, and follows her way, with her music, her art ... wherever the road leads...
I can say that on the technical side with what I've enjoyed the most, has been the fact of photographing the fan and searching for brightness with the use of lights ...

This is my fan!, it should be unfolded slowly but firmly and rhythmically hitting the chest with it to direct air to the face ... soft, then fast, then soft and so on... with a bright cadence, always! It relaxes me a lot to see women using fans in summer because the air that is produced reveals being really soft, the sound of wooden rods is so sweet that I start feeling sleepy, it numbed me much.

Kisses.

Some time ago, a photographer friend of mine suggested to me how about making a version of the famous poem by Edgar A. Poe, The Raven. Right away, I was marveled at the idea. Due to my formation, I have been very in touch with Literatures written in the English language: American, British, Australian literatures etc... there are so many works and authors over the years, that is difficult to cope everything.
I already knew this poem. For the project, I've recreated a room that does not exist in reality, that is ... the two walls are located kilometers away from each other in reality, the floor is elsewhere far away, the landscape situated in my cottage etc.
For me, it's like a vision of this poem.
Given that I am a rebel spirit, I have not dedicated myself solely to shape the verses, details and elements.
I made a mixture, where won a total lack of "resignation".
While the protagonist accepts his fate and stays in the impossible and foreboding, I've painted all with "hope".
Substituting the "nevermore!" for "forevermore".
I think this is a rendering to enjoy another perspective, with my profound admiration and respect for this great American writer, Poe.
Humbly, I'd like to accompany my artwork with two new stanzas for this scene.
I hope you like them, here we go!

While he was sitting outside, afraid of memories of Lenore,

Unable to change his will and soul, - "Can't resign myself!" said she;

And with rage from the shadows, to destroy this liar crow she struggled, to be here anymore.

To ruin his unhealthy repeated curse over the walls and floor.

"We shall be together, we shall be together"-, she implored!

The man is now a mere shadow over the door.

Listening to the Raven's “Nevermore!.”

***

No feather will stand on this floor, so her hands twisted to grasp their flying forms.

"Go away!"-, said she, "go far from my life and hopes, leave our love still and sealed", -black demon of the night.

And the Raven began to move, afraid of the woman standing on the floor.

The sad bird finished in a deep silent, his recurring words didn't sound anymore.

Now, the room is empty, no bad creature. Only a love, a love, forevermore!

Listening to her prayer “Forevermore!.”

Forevermore! (c)  Laura Marco

In life people change, For no reason at all... Sometimes for no good reason at all, mostly for no good reason at all...
Girl, I love to feel you under my skin. Girl, I love the way you put my head in spin.

I always tend to write a lot about each artistic image, in this case ... I leave it to the free interpretation of those who will contemplate it. To reflect on the message in silence or share their point of views if desired.

What I like the most, may be the asymmetric shape of both hands, each in a different direction. The message can be interpreted in many ways. For me, it is clearly positive, just add that the title comes from the following phrase: "Amen dico tibi hodie mecum eris in paradiso" (Lc 23: 43).

In this case the inscription on the marble plaque that closes the crypt, gives the title to this artwork.
Wine is the symbol of life, as blood that spills and finally falls into the crypt.
As the legend says, " AQVIVIENE APARAR LAVIDA ", ("Here is where Life ends").
In that hole, blood, beauty, life, hopes, dreams ... will end, will stop. Revealing this idea as a good summary that reminds us that nothing is eternal.
I've frequently visited  the Cathedral of Murcia, when I was a student, many times I had to wait due to bus schedules, then I moved around the city, walking ... and I almost always ended there, looking for the tranquility of the place.
This wasn't my destination moved by any religious zeal, or any belief. Maybe the reasons were that the space is quite vast, freshness within those walls, or especially thanks to silence.
The silence.
My most handy throughout sentence daily is: "Silence, please!".
I need silence, to think and rest. In my case, like one drinks water every day, I need to enjoy moments of silence.

In the cathedral  many fine artworks can be found. One can enjoy paintings hanging in private chapels. Glancing at those artworks, it's easy to realize that maybe many answers regarding composition, colors etc. are there in front of our eyes. There're photographers who are troubled with many themes: it seems wrong to change colors, to change lights seems to be wrong as well, but I do not feel that inner struggle, I look in front of me ... and answers show themselves, hanging on the walls :)

The floor is glazed tile, from the XVI century.
Belongs to a private chapel, called "Chapel of Junterones", when I saw the slabs and the legend, I knew that I loved to highlight this so absolute truth.
It's there where we end. Well, not all of us, because this is a chapel for rich and influential people.
I couldn't cover the whole scene behind a fence, I hadn't the necessary focal length, but this fact, did not discourage me at all. "With the objective that I have, I do what I can". Adding the fact that I'm not very high, I suffered to get a clear and clean scene of the floor and the crypt.

Murcia is very beautiful. If you're going to visit the cathedral, when you seek the floor of the chapel of Junterones, you'll remember me, maybe thinking: "Hey!, this is the floor and the idea that Laura liked so much" :)

The wine is a red one from Ricote.
The glass cup is my trousseau.
I myself... lying with the dress that my mother gave to me as a present long ago.

Hope you like it!. Kisses.

This time the point of view is not focused on what she's dreaming ... the emphasis is put on the fact that this is the image of HIS dream.

Does anyone know what's her name?

---- " Do only what you love, and you will be happy. He who does what he loves is blessedly condemned to success, which will arrive when it’s supposed to arrive. Because what must be, will be. And it will arrive naturally."---- Facundo Cabral.

Cantarico means "little jar."

In Spain when there was no running water in houses, people went to get water to wells or standpipes using clay jars. There's a popular saying: "Little Jar that so often goes to the fountain, eventually will break." When means are abused, situations are put to the limits then relationships are broken, as the jar. In the end, the jar has no water and the person is wet.

This image has sparked a debate within me and it's the following one ...
Is it good to take care of ourselves or to specialize only in certain areas? and that we always depend on others. This red tunic have been sewn by myself. Does it make sense to sew a broken sock or throw it away and buy a new one, helping consumerism?, is it worth repairing broken/torn things ?, is it worth spending our time to do more basic tasks? What happens if all this infrastructure missed a day ?, some people do not even know how to cook simple food. Nor they have the time or are employed in other more important tasks, but just think ... does it make sense to enter this artificial created current?, or return to the basic principle in which men invent and learn, what happens if one day .. . there was no daily baked bread ?, and if clothes stopped being sold?, and if no one makes more clothes anymore?. Will learning to develop basic skills, be a backwardness?, What if no one wants to do it anymore?

This image could well be a "Journey to the Center of the Earth" and maybe the beautiful protagonist of this film, Arlene Dahl is just going along on her journey, but ... this is not about a beautiful woman, or about simple aesthetic. It is a journey for sure, certainly, but ... "a journey into oneself", a journey to the inner.
Along the way, it's normal that we doubt many things, we'll live in uncertainties, dealing with fears ... and even we won't know what kind of reactions, we will experience, facing new situations. Taking this into account, it's needed to study ourselves, to make a profound introspection and travel to the depths of our interior, there, we'll know unfamiliar aspects where we may be cold, undergo fear, experience anxiety or insecurity, like a "don't-know-what-to-do" ... we may even weep, not understanding life itself; perhaps we'll be astonished of our reactions or that inner strength that we thought we would never have. We'll rest as well, of course!.

Olé, olé
Te mueves mejor que las olas y tienes la gracia del cielo
La noche en tu pelo. Mujer española.
Olé, olé
Tus ojos son tan pintureros que cuando los miro de cerca
Prendido en su embrujo, soy su prisionero.
Olé, olé
Envidia te tienen las flores, que llevas esencia en tu entraña
Del aire de España.
Olé, olé y olé
Por linda y graciosa te quiero
Y en vez de decirte piropos, te canto un bolero
Olé, olé, olé.

(Jorge Sepulveda)

This work mainly comes to express when I'm feeling caught up in my reverie. This spellbound that I'd experienced throughout my life with my illusions, "my visions", sort of projects ... which have occupied much of my time, I've dedicated myself to them with love and a great illusion ... revealing themselves beautiful and bright as the bird in the image, but ...
In almost all my commitments, it has only been a wishful thinking on my part.
On the other side it was all fake, a puppet moved by strings, no real life.
I never put my interest in the rods that were hanging, nor in the puppeteer... I used to look at with the eyes of a child, fixed on the brightest dream; I've only experienced the attractive and uplifting side of each vision of my life, of each bird.
Although I must admit, that mostly everything surrounding has been false. On the other hand, there has never been a genuine interest towards the person who was projecting or maximizing them, who was becoming engrossed in that reverie.
Hence ... this great sense of futility, of waste, and vacuum.

I know my weakness is to look merely at the bird, only focusing on its beauty and not being aware of the strings or control devices, which clearly would reveal its falsity.
From now on, I'd rather work with myself, to promote all the goodness that I may have inside, surely I'll build my strengths and rather stop projecting myself in anything else. Change experiences to something more constructive and meaningful.

All roads end up feeling alone.

Poor girl, with an unlived life, sleeping now in eternal rest.
Your story only exists in thoughts, no clutch so short ...
I don't know what to do with your pretty sandals, shriveled with time.
Anything material can't be taken beyond with us. No faces, no smiles.
No longer it makes sense. I can only look at them, showing the end of an unlived life.

Beautiful Ephedra Fragilis.

Again everything has been gone with the wind, gone out of my mind ... the idea of slipping through our hands ... and can not be able to do anything.
As it says in my biography: ... "Then the plane goes and goes and it turns away there I remained sitting on the grass looking as it goes into the distance and disappears from view I can no longer see its beauty and it takes all longings. I have seen many times planes go away. Rarely have I had the chance to look at them landing ... and resting besides me to share ".
Kisses.

Hah, hah, hah, hello-hello-hello-hello,
Never had a real good friend - not a boy or a girl
No-one knows what I've been through - let my flag unfurl

(Queen)

At first, I just wanted to discuss an issue with this image, but in the end, a doubt has arisen in me ... and I think I'd also talk about it.
On the one hand, I'm feeling like addressing the issue of religion, because although I'm not a believer, such is the influence exercised by religion in the first part of my life, my childhood, that I can not let go so many memories and above all a search for familiar symbols in every day life.
My Christ has a broken arm, like my beliefs or my faith, they're broken. The problem came when I could not assimilate the idea that... " if I did something good, it was thanks to God and if I did something wrong, it was only my fault". That is, I never have any merit of my own efforts. That idea was simply crazy ... then I gave up my faith. My need for something higher, something powerful over me.

On the other hand, the big question has arisen me when I look at some of my last images. Some of them are located or related to the subject of death. I've done everything unintentionally, so now ... I wonder why I ended up putting myself in such sad places or related to the dead? ... The truth is that... I do not know the reason why I do so.
I began my photography in bikini ... (!) And now I have finished "dead" or hidden, in sum, buried by all. This image is a shot made to a niche.

Since I do what I'm feeling, this situation draws much attention ... there must be an answer, but I do not know. The only thing I'm sure is that people slowly are changing me a lot. Interaction affects me much. That's the big reason that I'm always in the search of solitude or being away from everything. Thus, it's the only way to be myself. Without any influence or change.

When I look at me in this work... I'm sure I can not be bad!
Kisses!, all images used are mine.

The truth is that I worked with this idea as a kind of tripping dream. No one really knows where the image is located, in the sky? on earth? which was spinning constantly in my head was always the same: Who understands the world? Is the world a big puzzle? because it reveals itself difficult to fit all its pieces. The day to day affair does not need us, it is a great mechanism that does not stop turning, rather it'd be people who need each other. There're many people who are hurt, in need of attention ... people are sometimes hurt pigeons without healthy wings to fly, that is where I like to think that we can help each other and do great things. For others... Help others ... to heal themselves and to fly again :)

This is part of my dream, part of this Tripping Dream. Kisses.

Hello, again ... here I am showing you my last image, with great joy.
Generally while I'm working on ideas, I like being a little absent and detached from all, because by this way, it allows me to concentrate on the issues between my hands and have a necessary intimacy. To some extent I feel well in my world fro a while, where I can fully perform.
That day, when I saw the crumbling adobe walls, on top of that hill, I thought it was an ancient corral, because people used to build them in elevated places and separated from populations (due to odors). There was a very sharp turn on the road to access, but I went without hesitation.

The most amazing was the change in my mood when I got inside that place and looked at many niches, quite strange structures. I quickly realized that it was a cemetery. A forgotten cemetery? an abandoned one? How was that possible? ... the entrance was bricked up, but there was a free access, broken through one of the walls.
The ground inside was made of soil and was very uneven and spongy. My feet sank into the undergrowth and part of the soil. The place had been filled to some extent and randomly. I started walking and I was really scared to sneak into a hole in the ground (!).
Suddenly, I started to notice there were bones everywhere, I was puzzled! darn it!, almost this spectacle in front of my eyes gave me anger, some rage, to see that everything has been plundered. They had not respected those who rested there or at least there were many left that no one had claimed, totally abandoned. I saw bodies stuck between the planks that form the coffin, though incomplete. It could be distinguished bones of different ages, even shoes and clothes were mixed with remains of rotting wood. It came a moment that I was so blocked that did not know what to do. I was alone. Or not?

I never touched anything, just gazed intently everywhere for a long time and thought how this "eternal" sleep was outraged that way.
I was impressed with the place. I expected to see troughs for animal, not what I met there. The sky weighed on my head, that leaden gray sky and a very cold air was blowing. I took several shots, walking with care and as I walked back to my car, I knew this place was flashed on my head and I wonder how I would assimilate this experience, it was a big surprise!.

I'm presenting to you... AZAHAR... the matter is that I've been during several weeks smelling orange blossom, so nice smell coming through the windows of the house where the garden has orange, mandarin and lemon trees full of orange blossom. The floor spreads like a carpet of aromatic petals.

I think I've evolved a lot in my photography. There's a delicate barrier that is difficult to pass through and it's simply the integration of the model of the image on the subject. There're photographers who never go beyond emphasizing the model's body, never being able to "integrate" it in the story.
I would not show a woman, but a character stuck in her world, her time, her feelings and her own existence.
The big difference is when the focus of the composition is global, not showing anything in particular, but still it gets recorded in our retina.

I really like the smell of orange blossom... is intoxicating.

Now, I have many shots outdoors ... I want to deal with them as well. Certain topics that tell me a flash of my life, of my concerns. When I see that the day has the lights that I want, I leave everything as it is at home, I get in the car and drive aimlessly back roads, my partner in the driver's seat, is not a model ... daubed in makeup  jajajaja, my partner is a Nikon taken out of the holster, ready to shoot, just both silent. A bottle of mineral water and a small knife, a knife? Well yes ... I have gone to every place that puts the willies... with an illusion that burst the barriers of fear.

I need nothing else ... to be happy. Only road in front of me and places waiting... which won't exist in a near future anymore. I think if I'll end by not knowing where I am because the mind relaxes so much that goes on its own. This way I can spend hours and hours, not remembering even to eat, just get lost in the deepest landscape :) besides I have come to be disoriented on roads.

All images used are mine.
Hope you like it.
Kisses!

Beautiful Mind

A beautiful mind is one that knows everything has a beginning and an end ...
A beautiful mind is one that knows it can not live hating, but live to forget ...
A beautiful mind is one that smiles, though does not feel like smiling ...
A beautiful mind has every day a new dawn and knows how to hear the most beautiful sounds of each melody

A beautiful mind ...

The Absence of Judas

There's a considerable trek to get to that place and several ramps, a very uneven land, but I did not mind too much the effort involved and I walked as if pushed by an inexplicable inertia which led me to an exact place, all in silence. There were many terraces along to each side of the path, bridging those gaps of unevenness.
I was concerned about the moody sky that displayed above my head, at times sunlight, at times darkness, brightness was too great though its warmth in spring is very nice and welcoming, at last I was afraid I couldn't make to some extent the shot that I wanted.

When I arrived to the olive tree, while every thing necessary was put in place, the air became more humid, in front of me there was a beautiful valley with a river in its depths and several waterfalls. I was surrounded by rock walls in front me and at my back. Clouds covering from above the valley ... finally arrived.

Every day, we are used to adjust the opening of the eyelids to the brightness without realizing it and I gradually stopped feeling any stress or pressure in the area of ​​the eyes, I could open my eyes easily, naturally, open wide, like big windows made of somewhat like crystal ... without feeling any discomfort. The new cold air seeped through my nose deeply and increasingly the valley was filled before me in shadows. It was such a nice feeling that I just wanted to be relaxed and even I distracted a bit from work, almost I felt that I neither wanted to do anything only be sat there, but I had to do it ...
The light changed completely ... I do not know how it was possible so quickly, but I knew it was an ideal light for the image. Something was floating around, which made it all possible. Tranquility, silence, don't know what, but an overwhelming feeling nearly tangible.

And now comes the important matter, why I chose the character of Judas, because he had to play a very thankless role. He was going to be considered forever "evil" ... he was allowing another story to become a reality and influenced humanity forever. Without him and his role, otherwise it would not have been possible.
His sacrifice, to top it all, WAS... in vain, even his final award was unpleasant.
Nobody wanted him.

Every day we perceive reality as it is shown in front of our eyes, without thinking that there are many personal tragedies that made it possible.
This occurs at all levels that we can imagine.
For some stories to be possible, others have had to die on the way or no longer or never exist, just to be even sadder.

Each piece in this great puzzle of Life plays a role.
There're some roles for main actors and others can only wait for tragedy. It is so, and there is no kind of compassion or whatever.

This image, to my understanding, reminds us of those who are being sacrificed along the way and never had any main role.

Happy Holidays to all.

FLY !

The message of this image is very clear: we must "try" impossible. Always.
When we throw in the towel or have some failures, it's often due to the fact that we haven't even tried.
That's the message I'm trying to convey, if  birds fly up in the sky ... I CAN also fly ... and even a bird "ready for cooking" ... CAN fly.
FLY! high and far ... with me, I urge you, do not be afraid!.
I had fun making these shots, I had to cool the chicken occasionally with ice :) and when I saw it fly just for some moments in front of my eyes, thanks to my impulse, we both in the air, it's true I could not stop laughing at the situation.
For me, not to try, get us anywhere ... don't say "you can not".

This image reflects my spirit.
Kisses and I hope you'd like it.

Sentimental Strings

... And melody shows us the road to be followed, secure notes, a tempo ... they say that all is not yet over. Is it that the most beautiful thing is still to come ?. Notes sweeten and sound stuns, excite, driving us without stopping to walk towards the light, towards the end of the road ... to our happiness. Wish that never stops sounding ...

Scottish Cap

The cap (as the World?) ... at her feet

BADILA