Every once in a while the "facebook memories" jumping out to the core of my nostalgia. It seems nothing personal, but reminds you events and actions from the past and it hurts.

But the tragic stories doesn't have a place here, they are just reminders for start fresh. There was a time in my creative life that I wanted to do it all: jewelry, photography, printmaking, poetry, books. Although I studied professionally all that disciplines except poetry, I stopped to working on them. Right know I feel silly writing about this. So much time or maybe not since I cut with everything that I loved so much.

Deep inside, they lived in a proteteced place: my heart.

Little by little they emerge, I start to create again, working creatively with my jewelry designs, in some way I never stopped taking pictures and "collecting images" and words. Printing some linocut cards and carved new ones. And now I will start with books, artist books.

A few post from last weeks, my "random words", are a collection of words to create new visual poetry with all the pictures that I have and still take, around the city, around everything beautiful and ugly. For me. This is for me because I owe it to myself. No more fear. No more "complejos", no more competition, no more hiding.

Now I'm in the process stage, seeing, searching, inviting, conjuring all the mistery  and all the love back to me.