Sit and contemplate the landscape. Travel along the coast with your eyes pretending to reach beyond what the view allows. When drawing the coast with your eyes, the geographical obstacles disappear. It is a long journey that has no loss; It's about going on and on until you come back. One color covers everything. Villages, countries and continents return and surround us. It is a little romantic landscape, nothing sublime. The feet on the ground and a look that never gets lost; The coast accompanies us and sustains us. The light collides and bounces solid; fails to dissolve the whole in an unrecognizable mass that invites the imagination too much. The coast is a first horizon that breaks the continuity of the next.
In front, the sea, and just behind, the mountain. Green is gray and brown is bluish. Underneath the white houses, some coming to less and some coming to more, are outlined as geometric blocks that structure the landscape. There are more trees than one could believe. The wind blows and they move all at the same time in a frenetic but perfect rhythm. Syncopated, with determination to one side and gently returning to the other. You can't hear a murmur. Only the sea and the wind that confuse each other.
Few lights are seen. Lights that act as headlights. Those who mark the road along the coast and those who score it in the darkest interior. The houses are built on the rocks. Walking we find repeated architectural and ornamental elements. It seems that they somehow mark the way forward. As soon as you see one, you see the rest. And so a very defined and insistent vision of the landscape and the path is configured. A slight insistence. An uncertain corner. I see him and stop seeing him; with a sandwich still half lost in the distance. The peach is still there, bitten and in balance.
The sunrise is there. Much further the landscape is defined further. Up close is steep and by far a black cut against the sky or the flat sea. The fields of vines and olive trees are similar from far and near. The shapes of the leaves are forgotten. The stones are remembered. Confusing interior and precise contour.