Hello friends.

We could say that today is #beautifulsunday and also #SublimeSunday
But the truth is that the weather is not good, storm after storm forces us to be at home.
I was a bit lazy, so I encouraged myself to start making this first Sunday of the year more interesting.
So I was collecting things to take to the studio (kitchen), camera tripod, glass, rocks, fabric, methacrylate and hair foam
I started to design, in my case the design is live, no drawing or thinking about what will come out, I just mix, put and remove as I see.
I am about to leave the studio in the dark and play with the flashlight, to make shadows and lights in different places.
In these photographs there is also fog or smoke as you like and it is my cigarette while I think.
With the collection that I have made, we could tell a story.
I don't know why but all my stories are a little macabre

White rocks

Hola amigos.

Podríamos decir que hoy es #beautifulsunday y también #SublimeSunday
Pero la verdad es que el tiempo no acompaña, borrasca tras borrasca nos obliga a estar en casa.
Estaba un poco perezosa, así que me anime a mí misma a arrancar hacer que este primer domingo del año fuera más interesante.
Así que fui recopilando cosas para llevar al estudio (cocina), trípode cámara, cristal, rocas, tela, metacrilato y espuma para pelo
Empecé a diseñar, en mi caso el diseño es a lo vivo, nada de dibujar o pensar en que saldrá, solo mezclo pongo y quito según veo.
Me dispongo a dejar el estudio a oscuras y jugar con la linterna, para realizar sombras y luces en diferentes sitios.
En estas fotografías también hay niebla o humo como quieras y es el de mi cigarrillo mientras pienso.
Con la colección que he realizado podríamos contar una historia.
No sé por qué pero todas mis historias son un poco macabras

Rocas blancas

That's what the tribe called these rocks years ago, when their territory was wild and deer grazed on its slopes.

When they reached puberty they had to go to them and live a week on their own, without help, that made them men, which was not easy since white rocks were snowed all year long and the old languages said that some days the The temperature plummeted and everything around him froze.

Today Daniel did not want to know about old stories, he was already much more of a city than of legends, but when they warned him of what happened on white rocks a chill ran through his body. When I arrived, Andrés was already taking photos, always in black and white, a strange and almost bald guy.

You could only see the head of a young girl dressed and with her jewels around her neck, her eyes open and an expression of peace, her whole body was buried in snow.

She pulled back a bit to see the perspective, there was nothing more to be done for her. Among the snow you could see the light of the headlights making everything would be more like a dream, like the old legend that your grandmother told you.

But was she not a child of the tribe? Nor would she break the rules so that White Rocks would punish her and those were other times, even if the fog lifted and enveloped her...

Well he had to go home, it wasn't his case, but that image stuck with him.

When he got to the car he looked at the mountain and thought he saw an Indian in the snow. I'm getting older, he thought.