An Andean gull leave Puno bay… the sky is infinite. He is free to go everywhere.
An Andean gull leave Puno bay… the sky is infinite. He is free to go everywhere.
(Unique in its place)
I wonder if the tree is seeing me, or if it’s seeing the hills. I think in a head because Its resemblance with hair, an afro style. : )
Tell me clock in middle of the nowhere, if there is reason to measure time when you are in middle of the eternity.
Drums play a rhythm from an unknown, hide from eyes, ship. If it’s a pirate one from old times nobody knows; but every boat goes to there across the ending day.
The sun is orange, but the drums would like it red. There is something scary in them.
The waves in the landscape… A hidden road to the red castle and a sky so blue behind the clouds of a storm that did not become to be.
(Choose one)
They can look similar, but each and everyone of them is unique.
Mar’s maritime garden
Silhouettes are those shapes whose forms we can intuit just by their borders… inside them there is a plain mystery with details, colors and stories hide from us.
Perhaps that is the fascination with silhouettes, in our hope that nothing is empty or meaningless they invite us to create stories to explain them.
Errant in a long travel
sparks in orange
Very often silhouettes belong to the kingdoms of duks and dawn, but not always…
Silhouette framed by a wave in turquoise (published before)
Sleepy Sun ~_~
hand waving its fingers
2D Tower (published before)
a desire of outside
Campiña (published before)
Distant borders (published before)
powerful wings (published before)
luces distantes
a knot with the sun
sharp and distant lady
Of course with the technology of current cameras we can illuminate what seems a pure and total shadow; but a world without mystery would lose so many beauty as we fill the shadows with our dreams…
emerging rock
I’d just want a hole in the wall so its art would be the changing sky.
I can dream designs of complex structures and shapes dressed in titanium flakes,
oriental arches with golden vaults and sultry textures of oriental splendor…
But instead I just want a hole to see the sky, and nothing, or nobody, more (-_-‘)
Shadows like a black hug. Deep, inky shadows… traveling the surfaces of the rock in curves and lines… biting it as a lover. Because the shadows are made with the language of mysteries.
And a group of lovers of the Sun sing their love with sailors’ songs.
Persistent sun in this heart, but so far as if we were in Pluto lands.