"Minyons de Terrassa" reach the Sky!!!

Never, no gang of Human Towers Builders had been able to raise the Human Castle called «4 de 10» (Ten flats high, and four persons in every flat).

This morning, the «Minyons de Terrassa», one of the best gangs of Catalonia, have achieved this victory.

Joy has exploded in the «Plaça Vella» of Terrassa. The «Old Square» of Terrassa, where this group of young and old men, and women, and children, and grandfathers, and grandmothers, of Terrassa... have reached their goal.

Day after day, this gang usually assay a series of difficult and elaborate Human Towers, a symbol of the power of a People when it works in a coordinated way.

A place where the stars draw, over the sky, the answer to the questions about the beauty's misteries.

 Parc Güell, Barcelona.

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There is a place on mind where consciousness flies over gleaming colors. These colors take their hands and start the elevated dance of existence. A place where the stars draw, over the sky, the answer to the questions about the beauty's misteries.

There is a place for the thoughts that calls us to fly over the Mediterranean waters and over the patchs of the olive-trees, to see the geckos beside the lights of the old country houses and the tall palm trees that hold the dome of a sky full of twilights.

There is a red earth that  is ours. An earth made of blood, sweat and hope. An earth irrigated by the aches of many mothers, and by some special scents: wine's scent, and scent of ancient cellar, and scent of wet and mown grass. An earth irrigated by the tears of some ancestor that feel happy for the sight of the growing life, in spite the sorrows, the wars and the death.

There is an space that no critical can touch with the tips of the nails. A place beyond the rational reality. The wise critical is silent in front of the art, because the art doesn't walk by plotted routes. The unexpected realities discover never seen oceans; indescribable blue stained oceans.

Suddenly, in the middle of this immense space. The true “I” recognises itself in the outside light. This light explains why we are, and why no matter if the beauty is (or isn't) useful, and why  worth breathing, and why we should fear nothing, and why is all so deep and so beautiful.

The happiness is in the wide and red expanses where the wind sings and the sun reddens the landscape in the sunset

You may want the flashes and the fame, but the life is in the meadows, the happiness is in the wide and red expanses where the wind sings and the sun reddens the landscape in the sunset. The life is settled in the crepitation of the campfire when stars shine on sky. Life hides on the mountains, between the scarlet big rocks, in the middle of the mixture of scents of rosemary, thyle, pines, and holm oak trees...

I don't yearn the distressing race to reach the possession of all the things; the new things, the expensive things, the funny things, signs of class... I want only a song sung by people that don't sing very well but sing with passion. I want to the people I love... people that love woods, and hills, and streams, and the dark paths in the forest, and the warbling of unknown birds, and long rambles towards the wild nature.

Once upon a time a lonely boy, a sad and lonely boy, that was exiled from his homeland. He lived in a world of concrete and bricks. He was dominated by handlers consciences that wanted to lead him towards the golden jail of myths of conveniences and eternal fears. One day, this boy heard the "Waltzing Mathilda". The "Waltzing Mathilda" was sung by two lovely girls of thirteen in the middle on the wild Australia, beside a campfire. The lonely boy was fourteen, and he had never known any girl because handlers consciences had forbidden any meeting. They said that girls were dangerous because they could put the lonely boy out of the holy way. That day, when the boy heard the girls singing "Waltzing Mathilda", he understood that the life was a magical gift, and that the Earth and the existence were the materialization of a misterious love that rules the universe. With the “Waltzing Mathilda” the boy regained freedom, and this is the reason why this boy has this song as a personal hymn of independance and freedom.

Nowadays, this boy is forty five, and in spite he is a Catalan man, he sings the Waltzing Mathilda (an Australian folk song) beside his son and his daughter, as a song of freedom, love and nature... as a song of love to the life's diversity, and as a song of love to the mountains, the woods and the meadows of the Earth.

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(Images from Parc Natural de Sant Llorenç del Munt)
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Sitges and "Artamore". Art and Beauty. Art and love.

Yesterday, we visited an artistic shop of Sitges that is on the one hand an Arts Gallery and by the other hand It is a shop too. Its name is “Artamore”.

In Artamore you will find artistic handmade products, crafts, paintings, pottery, all sort of unique designs. With these products, the artists have explored all the possibilities of creativity.

The customers can often find works made from reused or recycled materials, with a stamp of identity impregnated of beauty and originality that goes further than the products you can find in any other shop.

Several artists periodically exhibit and offer their works in Artamore, so that the shop hasn't ever the same face.

Artamore also offers the possibility of designing and producing personalized works, in the way the customer wants: presents for weddings, aniversaries, trade designs, products for corporations, etc.  

You can visit their facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/artamoresitges?fref=ts

and their web:

http://artamoresitges.com/en/

After our visiting to Artamore, that is in the core Sitges, we enjoyed the beauty of Sitges, the coquetry of the harbour's siren, and the wet and marine afternoon of may.  

This weekend, Terrassa is a Modernist Town again.

Today and tomorrow, Terrassa celebrates its Modernist Fair. The people of the town get dressed in vintages clothes. Wherever you walk, you find expositions, gadgets, shows, performances, traditional trade, crafts... The city gets full of people as if it was the town's festival. 

Terrassa has a lot of Modernist Houses, little palaces built in the style of Antoni Gaudi. One of the pupils of Gaudí was Lluís Muncunill, the Architect of the Masia Freixa, one of the most beautiful designs of the city.

Museu de la Ciència i Tècnica de Catalunya (Terrassa)

                                           Museu de la Ciència i Tècnica de Catalunya (Terrassa)

Mediterranean temple, under the fire, hugging the wind.

A wooden path over the deep blue. The deep blue into my heart. 

Blue and bright, blue and wide... sharp smell of salt

Salt's wind, wet wind of summer, wet wind of sea.

Salt on skin, sun on skin, pure sea's water on cupper skin,

and the brown path meanders above sand.

Sand of sun's fire, summer's fire, fire's light.

Blue light of sea, Mediterranean temple, under the fire, hugging the wind, 

adoring the wet breeze of water.

Naked soul that reflects existence's core. Naked skin that adores life's love. Naked mind that binds to Earth. Naked smile that softly sleeps and dreams.

Dream that comes true. Mind on deep blue. My bare feet walking on hot sand.

Summer's dreams. Eternal dreams. Intense salt's smell on my mind.

Sea's kiss. Water's kiss.

Visual Images and felt words in the optional clothing beach of Roca Grossa

Calella de la Costa (Catalonia)

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To all the posts about Poetry.
To all the posts about Naturism.
To all the posts about Catalonia.
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