Skip to main content

The blood of what is free.


We have been too much time hiding
the sketch of what we were, 
of who we are.  
Crescent made in ground, 
with colours of the twilight and the sea. 
Warmth of the sun on the stone; 
stroke of life, 
a thousand years after a thousand years 
as if they were waves coming and going, 
just a moment stretching in the present. 

And now, and here, 
all things show themselves to everybody. 
Now, and here, 
all things disintegrate the poisonous smoke generated by the cold and black vacuum of ambitions. 

We have dreamed too long our return to home. 
All colors embrace us with blue kisses of sea. 
The song of God sails beyond the Mediterranean sea, 
seeking Ithaca. 
Sometimes, this song comes back, 
and the breath of what is beautiful greets us. 
The breath of what is beautiful 
is the blood of what is free. 
This breath lives just beneath our skin.
















.
.
Images has been taken by Jeremias Soler in "La Musclera", naturist beach of Arenys de Mar (Catalonia)

To all the post about Naturism:
Naturism. 

To all the post about Catalonia
Catalonia



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Nudity is not promiscuity. Naturists are not swingers.

Many people confuse nudity with sexuality; but human sexuality is present in all parts of human body, not only in the covered areas.
In my case, I defend the exercise of a responsible sexuality within the family. I believe in freedom, of course, and everyone can do what he wants, but in my personal life, sexuality belongs to family; it is a matter of my wife and me.  On the other hand, I think that a united family is the best place where children can grow up. I think that love should be present in all human relationships. When I say love, I mean really the love, empathy, will of good for people I love. Feeling is neither the cause nor the essence of love. Feeling is an usual result of love. But love is more than feeling . I can say that I love you  when I want all the good for you, in spite that the good for you doesn't mean a pleasure for me, in spite that the good for you means an effort for me. I bathe naked on the beach, and I sunbathe naked, that's true... but I do not prete…

Cañuelo Beach (Tarifa) (Cádiz) Andalucia.

Today I'm not going to write about a Catalan beach, but about Cañuelo beach, in Tarifa (Cadiz) Andalucia. In this beach, we can see a soft continuity between forest and sand. Any paved road is far away. Free nakedness is mixed with swimsuits. Here we have freedom to dress or undress. Sun is reflected on the deep blue sea and on the green pines. When summer dies, winter dress landscape in gala. The Sea grows dark and It bedecks with white handkerchieves.   

Beach is longer than two hundred metres; at ten o'clock, It is immersed in a bright solitude.




At one o'clock, beach is full. Naked people, dressed people... Freedom is chaotic. Uniformity is a consequence of imposition. We must walk along five or six quilometers to escaping from paradise and go back to the civilitation. The path follows a narrow line between the hills of a mountain steeped in beauty.


Sometimes we fear big animals that eat near path. They also fear us.

We see a big sand dune in the distance. The dune emerge fr…

Our society is trapped in the quick-sands of fear

Scott Fitzgerald would writte «the bright tan prayer rug of a beach» to express a feeling that it hardly can be expressed. When we talk about natural beauty we are really talking about our mother, our origin, the source of our being; and not only of our body but our inmost being. The shape of our naked body reveals the paintbrush of a misterious beauty. Here we are a reality beyond the physical interest or the material sensations. Sadly, some people who approach to naturism are trapped on the surface of the matter. We have an iceberg and some times we think that the ice is just the ice mountain outside the sea. What we see dazzles us, but some times it also blinds us. On the other side, we have a society fearing its own being; a society that wears a mask. Where is your voice, society, when you talks as if what you say was the script of a perfect play? Why do you fear your natural voice? Who does tell the truth if everybody says what society wants to hear? I often experience an empt…