looking back to 1998 I realize that a small old city where I had been is a fundamental part of my own history. Many scenes I will not forget but two special are part of my best memories. Some of those things we keep forever and rescue time to time as a secure source of inspiration.
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there I was, in a cold day of the ending winter.
following a track to nowhere, discovering the meaning of explore alone for the first time,
each short waved road, the stone made streets, the breeze running rush like the train of 6 o'clock, the still strong presence of revolutionaries souls.
The sounds of a orchestra misguiding me to nowhere.
the humidity of the raining season,
the always imminent slipper under the used shoes.
a mid cup coffee, the same size of my budget
and a smile to the accented speech of a lonely drunker passing through,
10 steps ladder,
and loosing myself in memories and tiers.
...
going up the mounts, I start to leave the place,
full of passion, full of feelings and love and peace
in a blink between tears I see the landscape,
that orchestra comes to my mind
the sun rays winning the clouds of coming night,
winning the dark,
announcing the unforgettable.
memories of Ouro Preto
HH, autumn 2008
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