plaza-revolucion-begona-martinez

You were cold I blamed you You were dead I blamed me You looked mute I felt deaf I blamed her Or was I deaf? You were gone No one to blame I was alone With you still there. I went back home And you looked The other way.

I’m an artist first and foremost. But people just want to hear about how I make money. It puzzles me, because don’t make that much. I just save beautiful things. Yet above the frustration of bringing something up and out and not seeing it shine like it did on my mind, I’m thankful. My mind

Yesterday I went to a rock concert on my own for the first time in my life. In another country. In the middle of nowhere.