freedom, the island

tú qué crees? Que es necesario salir de la isla para ver la isla, que no nos vemos si no nos salimos de nosotros. Si no salimos de nosotros mismos, quieres decir. No, no es igual


That Summer I spent few days in a mediterranean island 3 km long. I’ve always thought tiny islands are my place to be : they ask you to be essential, sober and content. To measure your steps and your use of resources. To confront yourself with the immense wonder you’re part of. You breathe salt and your clothes are as rough as dry grass. Your hair is crumpled like the old press cuttings left in some abandoned yard by people who moved to the mainland. The washing line is dust. It is freedom, and boundary.