The south of Spain is arid and rocky. The Tabernas Desert has served as a backdrop for many films since the 1960s. The sets of Spaghetti Westerns have been put together to form anachronistic villages that can be visited for a handful of euros.

Sitting in the middle of the main street, I paint the Post Office, squinting at each gust of wind. The dust gradually camouflages me. A cowboy walks by and tips his hat as politeness sign. The heat burns the skin. The watercolor dries in seconds.

When it's hot, the fingers slip. In extreme cold, numb hands are rigid. If the air is humid, the paint does not dry, leaving the colors to mix in an anarchic way. Sometimes the flies drink up the fresh watercolor on the page and punctuate the colored areas with white dots. Dust and sand soil the sheets and make the pallet squeak.

Nature contributes to the result.