The monthly is an excercise for me to collect, roumage, and revisit my archive of past images in an attempt to bring them together under a feeling, concept, phrase, word, moment etc that I feel close to at this time.
Often I disregard past images because they dont reflect my current line of work, dont fit in any project or section to include in my portfolio, or becasue I dont feel as proud of them as I once did. Still, those pictures, and me taking them, enveloped the entirety of my existance at one moment, which is enough to give them a space and the respect they deserve, not only as images, but as moments to recall.
Its summer in Madrid and I cant recall spring. Its been weeks spent at home, under the dry air of the AC, and where my dog has long taken the shape of a limp towel on the floor.
I look out the window and see the greenery past the buildings in front of mine, and think of the mountains far beyond them where the temperature is a lot cooler, and where there are still some “neveras” - pools of snow - melting into rivers, which themselves pool in between the smoothened cracks of granite.
These mountains I know like a corner of my own room. Thinking of them these past days resembles thinking of another, distant room in the house where the window stays at shade, and the wind hymns through.
“We finally found a winter for your sweater” - Picture Me Better, Weyes Blood.
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“Dijo entonces que cada cual tenía un camino marcado en la vida y que se podía renegar de ese camino por ambición y sensualidad” - El Camino, Miguel Delibes.
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Holloway(s)
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I forgot how to get home today
which is something that never happens to me
I went up and down the same escalators
And fumbled through metro lines randomly
He says god doesn’t throw dice
But today someone threw some for me
I’m tired now and longing for home
And bed
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