Do you remember the odor of the sea, my brother? The odor, the touch, the presence… We couldn’t even tell if it came from inside or outside. Heading from the mountains to the coast, when we were still half of the way, we began to put our noses in the air with eyes closed, saying: “Can you feel it? We’re almost there… I can even taste the salted water in my tongue… and the sand is so smooth and warm…” Mother would laugh gently, father would joke: “Sure, you can smell it… eucalyptus, pine trees and firs… and probably the celluloses factory in the nearby… We still have more 100 miles to ride until we get there!”
We never believed him entirely. Even if we had more 100 miles of road to ride, the sea was already inside… or probably the sea was also riding towards us, so there was no distance at all. What we feel is what exists. Blessed we were for believing in what we felt. And even with the eyes wide open, we could see the silver reflections of the water beyond the visible horizon. We had no doubts about what we felt. That was much more than faith or yearning; that was our way of carrying the sea inside. We were the sea… the sea was our second home or perhaps the first.
We never had a house by the sea but our home was there, always waiting for us. Day after day, the sea whispers: “Welcome home, voyager of the stars!”
A home in the rainbow, photograph
At the reach of my hand,
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At the reach of my voice I,
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At the reach of my eyes I,
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At the reach of my eyes II,
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Sea of Stars I, photograph
Finally I, photograph
Presence II, photograph
Enjoying the waves...sa
Searching the future, photograph
Gathering of generation
A Moon in the Sun III, photograph
A Moon in the Sun IV, photograph
A Moon in the Sun V, photograph
Walking on the water, photograph
Little Neptuno, photograph
At the reach of my mind,
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At the reach of the will-bow,
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Hidden mountain I, photograph
Hidden mountain III, photograph
Hidden mountain IV, photograph
At the end of the day I,
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Deep contemplat
At the end of the day II,
photograph
At the beginning of the night I,
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