Empty place, Canasvieiras

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Empty place, Canasvieiras

Again, I like the squareness and spareness of everything. It`s all is so exact,  as if transcribed directly from a drawing board: hard edges,  no mediation.

You could never escape. I wonder if, at prescribed hours, men in orange circulate in that yard smoking cigarettes., forming huddles.

But is there even anyone inside? I feel lonely just looking at it. 

However, I feel the loneliness is good for me. It's  unsentimental and improving like so many uncomfortable things: I  grew up in Scotland, land of unsweetened porridge.

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