through your eyes, trapped in stills

I will let you walk away this time with the most precious of my treasures.

I will hug you goodbye. You'll rush out under the pretext of the bad weather and driving conditions.

I will close the door and not see you leaving. I will feel like hiding for days.

"It's the awkwardness", I'll think. "it's the moon..."

I will sit in silence, still feel the body warm against the cold wall; your presence is not here anymore. I let you leave and take my memories with you; you're the ghost who took my nights of sleep; you got what you needed, you may rest in peace.

it'll be a terrible mistake to not approach me.

I will let you see me the way you look for...

what happened? that's what I ask!!!!

do you also get paranoid every now and then, about getting secret messages hidden between the lines? I do have that feeling all the time. So for every word on the screen, I'm reading two or three sentences. I hate this sort of thing. It's like de-coding things that don't even exist. yeah, I'm weird.

Googling something the other day i found the link to this camera club website. I decided to click on it since my search was for something else totally random (i think i was looking for a map...). For my surprise, the Camera Club is just... 2 minutes walk from my place!!!!! It sounds really interesting too. Not only they have a darkroom, a digital studio and other facilities in there QG, they have regular meetings and debates; different groups of discussion and eventual competitions... I might be wrong, but the whole thing sounds like is meant to be.... so I finally come to write them and ask for membership requirements... They seem very friendly and open to new members, so next thursday I'm going to their meeting to see what's like and hopefully become a member!

It is exciting. I've been thinking a lot about what I'm doing and where I'm going and no matter how many times I change my mind about a thing or two, there isn't a doubt that I should do something, move on. get out there and make myself heard through other ways than "internet" and the postal service.

It is weird though, putting my "face" out there together with my work. I've done it once and it all felt so surreal. having changed my name and exposing myself so much with my work always gets people confused. You end up seeing people expecting certain behaviours, certain attitudes that not necessarily relate to what I do with my writing and my photography. It's always beenlike this with my music, since I was very young. I remember someone saying that this whole contrast between my persona in reality and my writing and photos ends up adding "character" to what I do. It is weird to make an identity out of not having one. But remember posts ago when I mentioned the freedom of expressing myself for not putting my face on my work? well, time to shake things up and embrace what is up for grabbing. I'm up for it. Bring me love, make me come... to you!

Please insert here your name

Yeah, you.

One of the presents I got for xmas was this beautifully handcrafted notebook. The cover's got some lovely green dry leaves on it. It smells like earth. like my childhood. I love it. I decided to make it a journal. a paper journal. My first entry was just so weird.

I actually stopped and thought through the whole thing: what do I really want to write about? it's a journal, so basically not only I can write the daily events but I have that sort of "sense of security" a journal gives. the privacy, the freedom of writing exactly what you think.

It got me thinking about anonymousness and the trap you fall into when you have freedom of expression in your hands. have you ever thought about it? have you ever lived that? Having so much freedom, not knowing what to do with it. not having excuses to be your true self. turning the joy of freedom of expression into fear of what can come out of it. This is not a complaint. not at all. it's just recognizing the price of things. pointing at the irony of the human nature and it's continous lack of directions or sense of certainty. Nothing major, you see.

As for the journal, well... I have my stories to tell. Specially reflecting about the last year, the past 3 years actually, since I moved here. the people I've met. the people I've loved. the people I still care about and are now gone. I came to realise that I will never be able to truly write about them openly to a crowd. I'll keep them anonymous to the world; and keep their importance anonymous to themselves. my most valuable treasure is hidden deep under my skin.

So when I'm always writing in first person, referring to the second person; honestly, you can consider "you" ... yourself. Reading this, already makes you a potencial part of my "art"; whatever that means. everything might sound very generic at times, but I'm hoping you can see a little bit of yourself in one or two words I write at times.

I read you, I see your pictures, I hear you, I heart you.