My spring 2012? Listen to reggae. Read some poetry. And for my photos, to study Morandi. And Sudek. And Tichy.

It was a sunday. My mother had just left in her country. The sad smile. Bent. I was worried.

 

In Ibiza, my friend Pablo, the poet, brought me often collages. He saw me becoming the Pope of photographic haiku.

 

I like the yellowed magazines. The abandoned dolls. And take pictures that look outdated. It's my luxury.

 

Tzaroff, the former boyfriend of my mother looks like an old bird. Yesterday, because of the elections, he was in a bad mood.

 

Sweet proposal...I offer a print of my "Red Bunch" to the first who gives me a cd of electroacoustic music. Okay?

She has given me the leaf. Then, after a smile, she went back for a walk. I've never reviewed her.