You know that feeling when you resonate with a place though you have never set foot in there? To know deep within your atoms that those are the colours, the tastes the vibrations you had been looking for all your life? It’s like boldly pushing back the boundaries of space and time limitations and creating the perfect shelter in your imagination, to visit whenever the ‘right here, right now’ is of inconvenience.  That shelter is Latin America for me.

I am most certain Cortazar, Borges, Marquez and other novelists have had their contribution to my imaging, through their  magic realism but I feel there’s so much more to it. The dynamics, the intensity of feelings that you can read between the lines of the  history, the languages, the architecture or the music of Latin America. They seem to be the essence of the ‘homo ludens’ concept. And i juuuuust love it!

Might be a romanticised view, but I would resume the place as a big loud family, sitting around a table in a garden, having dinner. It would be hot and dry, crickets would be a bit too noisy. They would discuss politics and family matters, children would argue and start fights. Parents would smack them then drink red wine from their vineyards . Grandparents would laugh at them. And some uncle who’d be known as the family’s Don Juan would start singing frivolous choruses that’d catch the children’s attention and interest.

I carry this image with me all the time, and whenever I feel lonely or blue or just unhappy with mundane little things I just go to this projected family, in this projected place and pour another glass of wine.

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