You may not believe me, but I would probably be dead by now if it wasn’t for traveling.

Said that… This is the most difficult album for me to show. Because there is a lot of places in my life. And a lot of meanings, sensations, situations and feelings. All of them taught me the greatest lessons (and they still do). Plenty of images that -after time- reminiscent and start having a very special space in my heart.

This album would permanently persist “under construction”. I am constantly working on it, and will soon divide it in different categories defining different places and sensations from what I have learnt from the globe so far. I just have too many of these and need to work deeply on the selection, dedicating time to each of the albums.  As these are very personal ones, I want to give them THE attention they DO deserve; so please, treat what you see in this album as a trailer.

There will be more soon, with the personal touch that each of my journeys deserve. And I keep on traveling and feeling. Hope to be expanding this album for ever.

“Invitation to a Journey” , Charles Baudelaire

My sister, my dear
Consider how fair,
Together to live it would be!
Down yonder to fly
To love, till we die,
In the land which resembles thee.
Those suns that rise
‘Neath erratic skies,
—No charm could be like unto theirs—
So strange and divine,
Like those eyes of thine
Which glow in the midst of their tears

There, all is order and loveliness,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness

The tables and chairs,
Polished bright by the years,
Would decorate sweetly our rooms,
And the rarest of flowers
Would twine round our bowers
And mingle their amber perfumes:
The ceilings arrayed,
And the mirrors inlaid,
This Eastern splendour among,
Would furtively steal
O’er our souls, and appeal
With its tranquillous native tongue.

There, all is order and loveliness,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.

In the harbours, peep,
At the vessels asleep
(Their humour is always to roam),
Yet it is but to grant
Thy smallest want
From the ends of the earth that they come,
The sunsets beam
Upon meadow and stream,
And upon the city entire
‘Neath a violet crest,
The world sinks to rest,
Illumed by a golden fire.
There, all is order and loveliness,
Luxury, calm and voluptuousness.