Orhan Pamuk, My name is red
Photo taken in Águeda last Sunday
After a nervous smartphone breakdown, the cloud has been generous enough to give me back some pieces of what it seems to have been my recent life.
Memory, hither come by William Blake
A bridge of silver wings stretches from the dead ashes of an unforgiving nightmare
to the jeweled vision of a life started anew.
Aberjhani, The Bridge of Silver Wings (2007)
I could have chosen any of the ones in Porto, but Stari Most was the topic of conversation over coffee today. Some bridges keep you together. No matter what.
Mostar, April 2017
S.João in Fontainhas, striving to stay the same
We have not long to love.
Light does not stay
Siena, May 2017
Any Order is a balancing act of extreme precariousness
And they all seem beautiful to me.
Siena, May 25 2017