New Old Tracks

A book that is acollection of fragments.

A collection of real and metaphysical, exploring existence. A painful portrait inside my vision. Black and white becomes blurred, like vision when it tries to focus without completely succeeding. And then looking at a flower becomes one of the most tormented experiences one can have. Memories emerge that I cannot grasp, diluted by time.

Follow me, if you like, on this journey into a timeless and placeless memory. Maybe it's just my spirit writhing.