Imagine the beach of Barcelona in winter. A deserted place, sometimes tough-winded, on the edge of the vibrating city, an open plane to the sea. Waves are coming and going. As are these few citizens, maybe called upon by the waves. Or is it them, who render visible something untimely and eternal in this fluid flux and reflux?
Imagine the beach of Barcelona in winter. A deserted place, sometimes tough-winded, on the edge of the vibrating city, an open plane to the sea. Waves are coming and going. As are these few citizens, maybe called upon by the waves. Or is it them, who render visible something untimely and eternal in this fluid flux and reflux?