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I want to take a 180-degree turn with this section.
Initially, these four lines were meant solely for the progress and evolution of the book I am building.
Now, I want this part to be a
personal stream of consciousness—a reflection on the things happening to me, the things I am living through.
In my case, the personal is tied to how I arrive at certain words or images. My entire body of work is a poetically metaphorical visual diary.
I’ve been influenced by a book by May Sarton that I’m currently reading; it’s a journal, and what I love most is that it feels as if I’m spying on this 20th-century poet... from her most intimate place.
Now, my focus is to reach my maximum authenticity with myself, trying to strip away filters. In the end, that is what this whole project is about.
A natural remover.
This issue is a two-in-one, April/May, because in April they detected a cyst that had to be
removed, with everything that
entails.
My concentration went to hell; now that it’s recovered, I’m going to start again—doing the same things,
but from a different place.
Author's Note
About this Fanzine Series
I want to talk about gravity in this sacred setting.
I want to talk about gravity in this sacred setting.
I want to talk about gravity in this sacred setting.
GRAVITY
I want to talk about gravity in this sacred setting.
I will improvise with you as if I were every musician in a jazz band.
But when it comes to choosing the soloist, I choose the double bass
without hesitation.
Perhaps because my grandfather played it.
Or because my ancestors, a pair of lovers, fled from Italy to Catalonia with one on their backs.
But above all, I choose it because the double bass is the bridge that unites percussion with melody. I simply stuck with the bass so I could have both.
The same happens with my photographs: they exist in that limbo between painting and realism. And, if I stop to analyze it, the same thing happens to me with life itself.
I will never forget when a drunk friend warned me that I would always be rejected for not belonging entirely to any one side.
Perhaps that is why, sometimes, gravity feels different to me.
There are days when I feel that, just by breathing a little deeper, I can lift off and fly.
While on others, I crawl through the underground like a winged worm.
Maybe this is why I will never be fully accepted: because I am the one who oscillates between two worlds.
Seeking the balance,
between not anchoring myself too deeply,
and not escaping the balloon,
like helium.
Until I finally did.
I didn't know, when I took this photo,
that I would turn into a tree.
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