A King dreams with his Queen. The rain hide his tears.
He’s afraid to wake, not always the dreams are real.
Monastery of Santa Catalina is a mini self-sufficient city inside Arequipa city built since 1579. Owned by a Dominican order of the Catholic Church. Part of this city now is a museum. I hope you find one of your delight ;-)
The buildings have colors so intense that the best time to visit the Monastery is when there is a blue sky. These ones were taken in 2012. As always I just walked to see and feel the game of light and shadows of the volumes. Be aware that in those years I used to saturate, not so much but my goal was to reflect what I saw, and to me with the blue of the sky and the golden light the colors simply go out of scale.
I think this is one of my favorite compositions of the work of an anonymous architect. It’s just admirable the cleanness in the design in an epoch were there was temptations to saturate with ornaments.
I did a selfie inside the kitchens, I always wanted a portrait transformed in a being of light inside a black place (of course I’m far from being a creature of light mwahahaha)
I usually look like Moe Szyslak but there I like that I look more like I see myself, not so much detailed I guess.
I found a pair of Argentinian tourists in Titicaca Lake, they asked me if I could show them the Monastery in Arequipa. Sadly that day was an overcast one and the walls, like the visitors and me, felt a bit uncomfortable because was a visit very touristic, I mean: to go and see and after that just see other place without much soul really. It was in January.
Despite its religious nature I find that this monastery for women has a haunting feminine delicacy, like the sexy kiss of a woman with intense red lips.
Thank you for your patience with the long post, as I was saying, it’s a mini city and this barely is a glimpse.
I took this photograph in January. I’m amazed because I have seen the ship and the port in the same condition since I’ve memory, and now I’m 31… It’s in the harbor of Puno bay at lake Titicaca. From Juliaca, my city, it’s thirty minutes by bus and since kid I always loved to go to the old remains of a sea long ago disappeared.
I always have thought that every being, animated as a human or unanimated as a tool, has to fulfill its reason to be. A human has to love, to walk, to built, the mind has to think and be free; in this case I always felt since kid that the ship in the port (at the right) should be travelling across the waters and not just awaiting… I guess it’s due to reading when kid with a certain apprehension the punishment to Prometheus, lying chained for all the eternity being himself a creature capable to travel to the Sun (although in a funnier side perhaps he was punished for go to the sun instead to the innards of the Earth :D) The ship was built by Englishmen by nineteenth century, taken in parts with mules to the altitude of the lake at 3812 metres (12,507 ft) and today if it’s a museum in the next time I’m going to research it.
Time goes but the ship is still there, I guess someday I’d be happy to don’t see it in that place but unchained.
Post-Data: The title is based in a quote from an English phrase or a poet’s line. Mentioned in a conversation between Borges and Bioy, but I can’t remember the ownership of the original expression.