The scribbles of this land.

in photo •  8 days ago 

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When I woke up I understood that I only dream in this world, where everyone goes to sleep. They tell me: Crazy. crazy to see in the flower that beauty that fills (this is for few) yes, full of a different flavor to what some think, as it is not what they want they will put us on their list what can that matter' this song is not for them, it is for you who look inside you a song that calls you, calls you to go to the vibration of the earth where you pass, to feel its heartbeat kissing your eyes.

Come on guys, you are the sun that warms these modern days, wake up!
Go to the meeting with a breeze tune.

A rag covers your face, they are the consequences of dying with every step on the asphalt, there where you sit until you grow old quickly.

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An old man, do you remember? That memory, is more alive on the other side than all of us, from there he lets out a haughty cry that seeks to wake you up from that dream where you rest awake, you hear him say: The Coriander is good, but not so good. While the small, mocking laughter keeps in memory those words that today are a solemn hymn of love.

An old man who lives longer than we do, for he wakes up singing in the fields, his clothes are feathers that let him fly through these lands and your lands and mine and those of all the others who wake up.

Feed the birds and you will see that you wake up, and you see and breathe and love and you will see the truth of being free in like a rock that flies from its resting place where it sleeps.


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The truth is silent, for inexplicable, it can only be seen in these scribbles that are full of love in a flight through the clouds of Hive, that pile of seedlings that feed the voracious hunger of a whale.

Speaking of the whale, when will it give a verse to the platoon? that platoon that shoots the lights that give their first pinnacles in the great net, that is another story, today we only hear the song of the old man, remember the old man? that old man of sweet words.

Sweet is the candy that warms the earth, gives its strength to the little ones, the playful little carajitos of the block, yes, remember? the neighbors those who disliked you as a child, but now his sister is the mother of your children, who cooks the guarapo that warms your belly in the morning at every wake.

Yes, this is why the hell we can not leave that word sown in the garden, so that tomorrow its fruits feed your belly, belly, again I tell you, be a child again and go with faith, faith in that new way that will remove the rag from your face and take away the plague of this pandemic.

I give you that exquisite corpse, new child you're waking up...






I walked for a few hours in search of that flower, it comes out around this time, and the tree where it sprouts, is almost always located by these hills, which are of a high concentration of lime, so there is little vegetation in them, but still I am fascinated, and more when I manage to capture in the drawings of light that beautiful and delicate flower. The branches have no leaves or are very scarce to see in this species, even in winter (rainy season and green hours) but you can not deny the beauty that sprouts from it. We are in times of drought (summer) so the sun is very strong, but when you reach that height sticks a magnificent breeze that makes you close your eyes to the horizon and that's where the scribbles come out of the pencil, yes they are crazy letters, but unique and for special people like you, whether few or many who read this, I'm glad to be free and write what the voice says, without more or less, without fear of what some people think, because as I said before. This is for few "worth the redundancy" I can not write a list of lies and words that seek to please everyone just by sucking socks, as they say over there ( pray to be liked ) these are the real words that dictates the breeze in that place, and in each photo you looked at in this publication, the real thing that comes from the heart.

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That is the main image of the previous publication
I invite you to see it complete by pressing that source.
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Camera: Panasonic lumix DMC-FZ50.

Lent: Leica 1: 2.8-3.7 / 7.4-88.8.

Location: Villa de Cura.















































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hmm... interesting)
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