ashlars arches tinted of orange morning painting the floor with shadows
After my travel to Ilo in exchange of a favor I had to verify data in return in the Yanahuara’s City Hall. It’s a district in Arequipa city. I don’t like so much the sun of the morning in the desert, nor to make bureaucratic requests. But I had to go there so I took some pics of the plaza in the morning.
Council of palm trees judging red man
I imagine the high council condemned to the red man to a wooden jail. Yanahuara is a residential district whose history spans to pre-Hispanic times. National tourists like to get some photos in the Gazebo because it looks colonial but actually was made in the seventies XP
energy in wood
tables of light
I saw a nice sculpture, but there is no reference to the sculptor. A search in internet doesn’t reveal nothing neither.
under the crust
seeing the people run
The artist made a great work in my opinion. There was a big tree next to the church so I shot it and also I get some details of the colonial, in this case indeed it’s from 1750, church San Juan Bautista.
a tower white and another green
light touching the white stone
tree praying to a blue temple
A tree growing. It makes me think in Odin, a god sacrificing to himself…
palm army prepared to conquest the world
sequence in vermillion
And that was all. I went to fulfill a promise and everything finished well. Time to fly before the midday sun in the white blinding stone.
arrangement of colors and a closed door
Since kid I love to travel in dark highways to see the distant lights from the cities appear like islands of lights in a black night. Galaxies exploding in several stars. The best feeling was the first time I travelled to Qosqo (Cusco or Cuzco) the old capital of the empire.
In those times the best way to travel from Puno to there was by train, the city appeared late at night and I could see dragons and pumas in the constellation of the city. Figures hiding a message to whom could read them. It was a fortunate event, if I would went by day I would discover that the old capital there exists no more, instead there is another that ignores about the magic in the previous city.
… a whisper
…invisible motion and movement.
… the hand that makes rotate a tired world
… Verba volant, scripta manent, that meant that oral words are divine because they can fly.
… the spirit breaking limits
… the shared desire to soar the skies in dreams; Daedalus, free to create.
… what makes sing to trees
… the memory that bring us the objects we have forgotten.
… the tremble of the petals
… the sound of you alone with you.
… a patient and eternal sculptor
… sometimes a destroyer, sometimes a creator.
… a force that wipes out the world
…. the invisible hand calling you.
… a premonition, something is going to happen.
Wayra (pronounced why-rah) is the aymara word for wind.
I’m Qhapaq, and I’m in home.
I’m Xullaca; I’m home.
(Xullaca would be, perhaps, the original name of my city, but that is story for another night, see how many stars you can see even with the artifitial lights :P)
Let’s go to the night. A secret love, the hidden business under artifitial lights. our world of machines in the city that is other city when the sun shines.
One of my favorite painters is Hooper. The tones, the way he paints the light, the life in the modernity. It’s like see a truth I suspected but don’t noticed till see mirrored in his art.
I always wonder how I could do spaces where effectively the myth of the city as a place to gathering could be real. Perhaps the Greeks were right when said that a city should have a limited size and nothing more, of course we had to change the slaves for robots :D