do not know why I've always found Castilla with a crude idea of \u200b\u200btruth. For me, Castilla is a material witness, tactile ground truth compared to other places, perhaps more gentle in appearance. So that we understand it is as if it were the earth in its basic sense, not the rhetoric of a happy landscape. Castilla as a factory, where the instrument that is built is handled deftly, with no major distractions that faithful and consistent implementation of a trade. Perhaps it was because, for me, is a groove just marking my roots (if a man can have that) and a secret A sleeping earth my hopes.
Speaking with the Spaniards, the people of functional beauty, always surrounded by the silence of centuries. As the field empty at first glance, it does not need more color to look and feel human. And the horizon, marking the end with more dust, almost smoldering in oceans and promise of adventure.
A place of Jews and Moors. A border, perhaps suspended in time, waiting for a reason to revive it. A slow and tiring. Cold and dry heat. This does not smile for no good reason. It is the conclusion of a story that really has starred and reaches the end, and it offers nothing of Me.
In the same architecture, which seems to embrace the earth, rather than imposed, and offers a vision of God has always fit. A god without color, marking by Stoic philosophy, and Teresa and John, where life does not seem different from most mobile Perhaps death by love, which is melancholy about the brown earth.
Speaking with the Spaniards, the people of functional beauty, always surrounded by the silence of centuries. As the field empty at first glance, it does not need more color to look and feel human. And the horizon, marking the end with more dust, almost smoldering in oceans and promise of adventure.
A place of Jews and Moors. A border, perhaps suspended in time, waiting for a reason to revive it. A slow and tiring. Cold and dry heat. This does not smile for no good reason. It is the conclusion of a story that really has starred and reaches the end, and it offers nothing of Me.
In the same architecture, which seems to embrace the earth, rather than imposed, and offers a vision of God has always fit. A god without color, marking by Stoic philosophy, and Teresa and John, where life does not seem different from most mobile Perhaps death by love, which is melancholy about the brown earth.
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