esides wandering the streets of my hometown, I also like to take long walks in the surrounding hills and country roads. And I don't mean “long walks” in terms of distance, I mean more the time I usually spend there contemplating the landscape and the details around at leisure, taking pictures and trying to breathe fresh air...

ello monochromatic #Hive friends!... I'm still here, in the streets of my town, involved in my hobby of wandering around for long time rummaging the corners of my town waiting to find photos and more photos... Today I selected photos of diverse character, made to things different from each other, made in different climates from each other... I like from time to time to build my posts in this way to convey to everyone my perception of how diverse the streets of my town can be... Come for a new walk through my streets through my photos!... ;)

ell, I spent a good part of my morning editing photos, I wanted to select photos with wheels, vehicles and similar subject matter... I also wanted to do the processing in monochrome and experiment with cropping each photo in different ways until I got what I considered most relevant. It was actually a very entertaining and relaxing handful of hours. It also left me with a dozen photos to share with you here on #Hive...

he town as I knew it, slowly fades away in front my undaunted eyes... Time, neglect and loneliness have been responsible for bringing down one after the other the facades of the old houses inside which I played with my schoolmates... Some of them remain precariously standing, like floating carcasses full of memories and silence? The good thing about being a street photographer is that I can afford to be stoic enough to record the reflection of my lost memories in the old doors ready to break, in the broken glass of the windows where nobody looks anymore... Looking at all this gives me such a certain perception of the ephemerality of things, as to be able to perceive that my body is also dying to the rhythm of the mud walls and the roofs of wood and clay tiles... I am not a man of affections, not even of affections towards myself as an existing creature... So I do my job by simply witnessing how the village is dying along with my flesh and bones... In the meantime, I take pictures...

fter sharing the first two chapters of this photographic series in black and white, I wanted to finish it with a selection of color photographs... ou can look at the previous chapters by clicking on CHAPTER I and CHAPTER II

think that half of my friends, half of my family, half of my ex-colleagues and half of the town's population; have left the country... And that is easy to check, just look at my contacts on my cell phone or on my social networks to discover how they are all scattered around the world... I could have imagined anything for the future, but this exodus took me by surprise, I must confess... That's why when someone writes to me and asks me: “Are you still in Venezuela?" I always answer "I'm still here"... Then, behind that answer is a long list of questions that go from knowing if I need “help to exit” to those who simply ask: “Why are you still there?" My answers are usually according to each one, because I don't like to hurt feelings or seem petulant, but the truth is simply: “I'm still here” and it is very possible that this will never change despite the increasing difficulties...