Diario Vivo

I can feel the day growing shorter. By eight-thirty there is almost no light left, and the house asks again for the lamp on, the…

These days I have been gathering small things: some dry branches for a vase, two or three loose ideas in a notebook, the summer clothes…

This morning the fog covered everything. I stepped outside and the world had shrunk to a few meters around me. The end of the sidewalk…

My body has been asking for pause these past few days. It isn’t pain, it is something else: a gentle message that arrives the way…

The first chestnuts are starting to fall. I hear them hit the ground as I walk along the promenade, that dry sound announcing that something…

Today, stepping outside, I caught that smell that only comes when the earth has been dry for days and finally gets wet. An old smell,…

September has begun without making noise. One day you wake and the air is no longer the same: it smells of leaves, of a freshly…

There’s a light at the end of August that resembles no other. It’s no longer the full summer light that fills everything; it’s a lower,…

I’ve begun to let go of summer. Not all at once, but the way you release a hand that no longer grips: slowly, without drama,…

There’s a new notebook on my table. It’s blank, and every morning it looks at me from the same spot, as if waiting for something…