la españa vacía

salamancastreets

only the sunset knows my blind desire for the fleeting
only the moon understands the beauty of love
when held by a hand like the aura of nostalgia

Nostalgia, Emily Barker and The Red Clay Halo


Inspirado en parte por la españa vacía, el libro escrito por sergio del molino

cerrada

mordaz

vacía

retorcido

camino

bloqueado

ironía

mordido

presionado

acerbo

después

abatimiento

refugio

desolado

centinela


*imágenes realizadas con olympus om10, objetivo de 135mm f/3.5, película de blanco y negro de ilford, sin editar*

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lunes de agua

a tale of wine, hornazo and ‘oars’ on lunes de agua on salamancastreets

salamancastreets

I wonder, would it be true and fair to describe Spain as the home of ‘fiestas’?

Each town, each community, often has more than one day set aside each year to celebrate one thing, or another.

Perhaps none has a celebration quite as distinctive as that held in Salamanca each year. Hot on the heels of the solemn processions and religous observance over Easter comes Lunes de Agua.

Literally ‘water Monday’, the (half) day fiesta which begins in the middle of the afternoon, on the Monday which follows Easter Monday, brings everyone in the family (young and old) together to celebrate the day on which, by long-standing tradition (dating back to the reign of Felipe II) the prostitutes of this ancient University city, banished during Semana Santa from its beautiful streets and plazas, were repatriated (with pomp and circumstance) from the far side of the river Tormes by boat. The…

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Montemayor del rio

A post on salamancastreets featuring a close encounter with a frisky bull and a less than adequate fence, (two) group(s) of brightly clad bikers, a couple of donkeys, some bees and some very friendly locals in a bar in Peñacaballera.

salamancastreets


I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
– The Road not taken, Robert Frost


An expedition along the Ruta de la Plata which traces the path of a still visible Roman road known as the Via de la plata.

Along the road which winds its way from Mérida to Astorga, we had a close encounter with a frisky bull and a less than adequate fence, (two) group(s) of brightly clad bikers, a couple of donkeys, some bees and some very friendly locals in a bar in Peñacaballera.

The incident with the bull involved a degree of clear, present and imminent danger and I felt stopping to take a portrait shot would perhaps have been inadvisable. The bull which features below was…

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On Travail

The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.

St. Augustine


The clue to this post is in the title, which is a clumsy attempt to wrap multiple concepts into a single pithy phrase.

Among my resolutions this year were to write and shoot more. Rather dismally I have failed to respond well to my own resolutions. This does of course make choosing next year’s resolutions so much easier, as I plan to have another go.

However, I am happy to report that I have read a lot this year. And I will write about that also. In due course, the fullness of time, and so on.

I have also travelled a great deal. A very great deal. And, that is also something I intend to write about on the same terms as above.

I am not comfortable with my personal carbon footprint this year. So, trees will need to be planted. Probably enough to stock a decent sized hillside.

What prompted this post was my need to share (other than on my FB page) my journey home.

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sindjelićeva

A pedestrian reflection from Belgrade.

For WordPress weekly photo challenge – pedestrian

belgradestreets

“To be a wave understanding the influence of the moon;
To be a tree and read the memory of the leaves;
To be an insignificant pedestrian on the streets”

– Dejan Stojanovic

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Images captured on a late Summer evening with my Olympus OM10 and 100 ASA black and white film.

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A to Z

Ever wondered what it would be like to work as a consultant, travelling the world, meeting new people, experiencing new cultures, stretching yourself intellectually and emotionally, being wined and dined?

Passing straight through the lounge doors at the airport?

A silk carpet, leather seats.

Flying the blue. Not Ryanair yellow. Not Easyjet orange?

Welcome to my world.

Here’s an A to Z of what it actually feels (looks) like.

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