I took the long road to Hendaia, a Basque coastal city in the mountains, to catch a train bringing my sister from Paris.
Aldeanueva, in colour this time.
There’s this peculiar perfume in the air in Aldeanueva de Ebro, a strange mix of earth and smoke of burning vines that altogether makes for a pleasing smell. Whenever I take it in I go a little numb (might also be el vino) and tensions flow away … feels like home.
That one made me think of my friend Daphné …
In case you are wondering – about the title – I’ve been reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad which of course – has me thinking of Apocalypse Now.
Aldeanueva de Ebro, qui ce traduit à Nouveau Village de l’Èbre, lieu de naissance des mes grands-parents ainsi que mon père. Drôlement, le village, pour la majeure partie, n’est pas neuf et l’Èbre coule environ six kilomètres au nord …
Première nuit et premier jour à Madrid, dans la pluie. Après une visite au musée Reina Sofia aujourd’hui, direction el pueblo.
Aldeanueva de Ebro in La Rioja, a northern province of Spain, origins of my family and where my grand parents still live. I took this particular picture last spring. I will travel there once again next week with a very brief layover in Amsterdam and a few days in Madrid. This will be my first time seeing this region in winter time, I’m very much looking forward to it.
For those interested … I will try to post pictures here on a more or less regular basis during my stay and that will be, if I can help it, the extent of my online presence during those few weeks.
A friend told me bikes are a recurring theme in my street photography. I hadn’t really noticed before but she seems to be right. Along with a few other things, I guess I associate Montrealers with bikes. Perhaps even more in December when, despite cold weather and snow, people just keep on biking.
Two that I captured over the last few weeks, on some of the coldest days of the approaching winter …
Another of my favs is this one I captured last year. As I look at these three images, I also realize they were all taken on a Sunday … I guess I like cold Sunday walks as well.
« Le futur n’a plus d’avenir » est la sagesse d’une époque qui en est arrivée, sous ses airs d’extrême normalité, au niveau de conscience des premiers punks.
Extrait du livre; L’insurrection qui vient.